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improvements we’ve made, they can be overlooked.”
    “No one’s faulting your enthusiasm.” He waved it aside. “However, this must be dealt with. And with the negative publicity from your misstep in Florence added to it, it leaves us in a difficult position.”
    “My misstep,” she murmured. How like him to use some limp euphemism for a crisis. “I did everything I was required to do in Florence. Everything.” When she felt the emotion spurting up, she swallowed it and met him on the dispassionate level he expected. “If I could see the results of the retesting, I could analyze my own results and determine where the mistakes were made.”
    “That’s something you have to take up with your mother. Though I can tell you, she’s very displeased. If the press hadn’t been notified—”
    “I never talked to the press.” She rose now, unable to sit, unable to pretend she was calm. “I never discussed The Dark Lady with anyone outside of the lab. Damn it, why would I?”
    He paused a moment, set his teacup aside. He hated confrontations, disliked messy emotions that interfered with smooth production. He was well aware that there were floods of those messy emotions simmering inside his daughter. He’d never been able to understand where they came from.
    “I believe you.”
    “And to be accused— What?”
    “I believe you. While you may be headstrong and often wrong-minded in my opinion, I’ve never known you to be dishonest. If you tell me you didn’t speak to the press about this matter, then I believe you.”
    “I—” The back of her throat burned. “Thank you.”
    “It hardly changes the situation, however. The publicity must be downplayed. Through circumstances, you’re at the center of the storm, so to speak. Your mother and I believe it would be best if you took an extended leave.”
    The tears that had swum into her eyes dried up. “I’ve already discussed that with her. And I’ve told her I won’t hide from this. I’ve done nothing.”
    “What you’ve done or haven’t done isn’t the issue. Until both of these matters are resolved, your presence at the Institute is detrimental.”
    He brushed off the knees of his slacks, then stood. “Starting today, you’re to take a month personal leave. If necessary, you may go in, clear up any pending business, but it would be best if you do that from here, within the next forty-eight hours.”
    “You might as well paint a G for guilty on my forehead.”
    “You’re overreacting, as usual.”
    “And you’re walking away, as usual. Well, I know where I stand. Alone.” Though it was humiliating, she tried one last time. “Once, just once, couldn’t you take my side?”
    “This isn’t a matter of sides, Miranda. And it’s not a personal attack. This is what’s best for everyone involved, and for both the Institute and Standjo.”
    “It hurts me.”
    He cleared his throat, and avoided her eyes. “I’m sure once you have time to think it through, you’ll agree this is the most logical course to take. I’ll be at the Regency until tomorrow if you need to reach me.”
    “I’ve never been able to reach you,” she said quietly. “I’ll get your coat.”
    Because he felt some regret, he followed her into the foyer. “You should take this time, do a little traveling. Get some sun. Perhaps your, ah, young man would join you.”
    “My what?” She took his coat out of the closet, then glanced up the stairs. And began to laugh. “Oh sure.” She had to wipe at her eyes, even as she recognized the jittery onset of hysteria. “I bet old Rodney would just love to go traveling with me.”
    She waved her father out of the house, then sat on the bottom step and laughed like a loon—until she started to weep.

thirteen
    A man who had three sisters knew all about women’s tears. There were the slow, rather lovely ones that could slide down a female cheek like small, liquid diamonds and reduce a man to begging. There were hot, angry ones that spurted out of a woman’s eyes like clear fire and induced a wise man to run for cover.
    And there were those that were hidden so deep in the heart that when they broke loose and stormed free they were a deluge of pain beyond any man’s comfort.
    So he let her be, let her curl into herself on the bottom step while those heart-born tears raged. He knew that the hurt that spawned such a flood closed her off. All he could do was give her privacy, and wait.
    When those harsh, ripping sobs