Blythe gazed into his eyes. It seemed as if she were looking into his very soul. Could she read genuine repentance there . . . or just regret that he had brought shame to himself, disgraced his family? Suddenly, she knew. This was the real Malcolm -- before the War, before Rose died, before his life became a wasteland. She saw the Malcolm who remained uncorrupted -- gentle, intelligent, gallant before tragedy and loss took their bitter toll. Could...