The lake held special memories of her times with Jeff. Here they had spent hours talking, feeding the swans, and skipping pebbles across the smooth surface, creating circles within circles. One afternoon in particular Faith remembered. Jeff had kissed her. It was their first real kiss. In it were all Faith's dreams, her longings, her hopes, her loyalty and love. "Don't ever stop believing in me," Jeff begged. "I promise, I never will," she had whispered. Did Jeff remember that day? For Faith, that day, that kiss, that promise were a treasured memory, cherished as a special bond between them of mutual trust and love. Could he have forgotten? It was to be a very special summer, the summer of Queen Victoria's Jubilee, the sixtieth year of the English monarch's reign. It was the summer Faith Devlin had looked forward to with great anticipation—the pressures of her debutante year were over, Jeff Montrose was back in London, and her American cousins were coming for a family reunion at the beautiful country estate of Birchfields. It was the summer of unexpected encounters and romantic enterprises — but it was not to be the summer of Faith Devlin's dreams. . .
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