Dangerous

Chapter Five

I am sorry to have to say this, my lord, but the disaster in which we find ourselves is entirely your fault," Prudence announced as Sebastian turned the sleek black phaeton into the crowded park.

"You are far too generous, my dear." Sebastian guided the two beautifully matched black horses into the stream of traffic. "I believe we can give you most of the credit for last night's proceedings."

Prudence retreated beneath the brim of her plain chip straw bon­net. She twitched her slate-colored bombazine skirts over her sturdy half boots and sought for a way to defend herself. "I was only trying to help."

"Were you, indeed?"

"If you had allowed me to make the explanations to Lord Thorn-bridge, everything would have been satisfactorily resolved." Prudence gazed straight ahead, acutely aware of the stares she and Sebastian were receiving from passing carriages.

It had been like this since last night when Thornbridge had accom­panied them back to the ballroom and announced the news of the Fallen Angel's engagement.

The Thornbridges' guests had been first stunned and then titillated and finally deeply intrigued. This was far and away the most entertain­ing event of the Season. The notion of the Fallen Angel marrying the amusing Original was obviously more than most members of the ton could bring themselves to believe.

Society's reaction was nothing compared to that of Hester and Trevor. They had been shocked speechless. Sebastian had warned Pru­dence not to attempt to explain the situation to either of them, as it ‘t

would only make things more complicated. Prudence was forced to agree with him on that score.

Surprisingly, it was Hester who had recovered first from the stun­ning announcement. Once she had digested the news, her eyes had turned oddly speculative.

"Not quite what I expected," Hester had mused. "But then, the Fallen Angel rarely does what one expects. And it follows that he would choose someone out of the ordinary for his future countess."

"He's playing another one of his bloody games," Trevor had snarled.

"I'm not so certain of that," Hester had said. "An engagement is an honorable commitment. Whatever else one can say about Angel-stone, he has never been known to break his word. In any event, there's nothing to be done about it now. Prue is engaged to the Fallen Angel and that's a simple fact. We shall have to go on as if everything were quite normal."

The engagement was definitely not a normal event as far as polite society was concerned. All of London was agog. Sebastian had de­creed the drive in the park this afternoon, saying it was better to make a bold show than to try to hide from the unwanted attention. Pru­dence was not entirely certain that his reasoning was correct.

"Pray, do not take offense, Prue," he now said. "The truth is that your explanations to Thornbridge were doing more harm than good."

Prudence glared at him. "I do not see how they could have done any more harm than your ridiculous explanations, my lord. And I do not recall giving you leave to call me by my first name."

Sebastian's mouth curved faintly. "I didn't think you would mind. We are engaged, after all."

"Not by my doing."

"No?" Sebastian's black brow arched mockingly. "What did you think was going to happen when you leaped out of that wardrobe?"

Prudence clutched her large, practical reticule very tightly. "I was attempting to save your life, sir. In case you had not noticed, you were in a somewhat untenable position at the time."

"Yes, I was, wasn't I?" Sebastian looked unconcerned about the matter. "But you jumped to my rescue and I was saved."

"I am glad you appreciate that much, at least." She was stung by his amused sarcasm. "Under the terms of the bargain we made, I was in your debt. I was merely attempting to discharge my obligation to you."

"Ah, yes, our bargain."

"I thought I could repay you by saving you from Lord Thorn-bridge."

"I see."

Prudence subsided back into the guilt-ridden gloom she had been nursing since last night. "I collect you must be very angry, my lord."

Sebastian shrugged. "Not particularly."

Baffled, Prudence slanted him a sidelong glance. "Why ever not?"

"I don't think that our engagement will be a problem."

Prudence brightened. "You have a plan for dealing with our pre­dicament?"

"I suppose one could say that I have."

Prudence gazed at him in growing respect and relief. "My lord, that is excellent news. What, precisely, do you intend to do?"

Sebastian smiled at her, but his gaze was unreadable. "It's a very simple plan, my dear. I intend to enjoy to the fullest the benefits of being an engaged man."

Prudence's mouth fell open. "I beg your pardon?"

"You‘ heard me." Sebastian inclined his head with chilling civility to an elderly lady in a passing carriage who was staring at the black phaeton. The woman looked away quickly.

"You intend to let our engagement stand?" Prudence demanded in disbelief. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"I don't see that we have much choice in the matter, do you? If we announce to the world that our engagement is a hoax, your reputation will be in shreds."

"That would not matter a great deal, my lord. I shall simply retire to the country somewhat ahead of schedule. Society will soon forget about me."

"What about me, Prue?" Sebastian asked gently. "The ton will not forget my role in all this very quickly, I assure you. Thornbridge, for one, will undoubtedly decide that his initial suspicions concerning my presence in his wife's bedchamber were correct. He will very likely come after me again with his pistol."

Prudence caught her lower lip between her teeth and peered at Sebastian. "Do you really believe he would do that?"

"I would say it is highly probable."

"I had not thought about that. What are we going to do, my lord?"

"Finish the Season as an engaged couple," Sebastian said calmly.

"When June arrives, you may return to Dorset and I shall continue on about my affairs. The gossips will gradually lose interest."

"I take your point," Prudence said, thinking it through carefully. "Sometime during the summer I shall quietly announce that I am crying off. By fall everyone will have forgotten about the matter."

"Very likely."

"Yes, it just might work." Prudence frowned in thought. "It means that for the next two and a half months we shall both be obliged to carry out the pretense of being engaged."

"Do you think you can act the part of a happily engaged lady that long, Prue?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I have never tried my hand at amateur theatrics."

"I am certain that with a little practice, you will soon get the hang of it."

"Do you think so?" Prudence tilted her head to one side and gave him a shrewd glance. "What about you, my lord?"

Sebastian's mouth curved faintly. "There is no need to concern yourself, my dear. I assure you that I can handle my role. A talent for playacting is in my blood."

"Yes, that's right, it is, is it not? You are extremely fortunate that your mother was an accomplished actress." Prudence sighed. "I am really very sorry about all this."

"Look on the bright side," Sebastian suggested. "Perhaps now your pest of a brother will stop issuing a challenge every time I dance with you."

"There is that, I suppose." Prudence cleared her throat discreetly. "There is just one small point concerning last night's events that I wish to have clarified before we go forward with this pretense of an engage­ment."

Sebastian smiled. "Allow me to guess what that small point is. You probably want to know precisely what I was doing in Lady Thorn-bridge's bedchamber."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I would like an explanation. I do not believe for one moment that you had an assignation with her. I have observed you closely of late, my lord, and last night was not the first time that I've seen you mysteriously disappear for a while from a ballroom. As far as I could determine, you were not meeting anyone on those occasions."

Sebastian glanced at her with an expression of cool admiration.

"You've been very observant. But I cannot say I'm surprised. You are a most amazing female."

"I am not at all certain that is a compliment. Now, are you going to tell me what was going on last night?"

Sebastian's amber eyes gleamed briefly as he considered the ques­tion. "Did you really believe I had become a cracksman?"

Prudence narrowed her gaze behind the lenses of her spectacles. "It occurred to me, my lord, that in a misguided attempt to alleviate your ennui, you might have resorted to a somewhat unfortunate hobby."

"In other words, you thought I might have turned into a jewel thief. I am crushed to learn that you hold me in such low esteem."

"Well, I wasn't altogether certain that was what you were about," Prudence said quickly. "After all, it is not as if you need the money. Everyone says you are as rich as Croesus. So what were you doing in Lady Thornbridge's bedchamber?"

"You were partially correct in your initial assumption. As I tried to tell you, I was looking for a necklace. A very particular necklace."

"What?" Prudence gazed at him in astonishment. "I do not believe it."

"It's quite true. The necklace did not belong to Lady Thornbridge, however."

Prudence was immediately intrigued. "Whose necklace was it?"

"It belongs to a certain lady of the ton who gave it to Lady Thorn-bridge."

"Why did she give it to her?" Prudence asked.

"She had hoped to purchase Lady Thornbridge's silence," Sebas­tian said softly.

"Her silence?" Prudence leaped to the obvious conclusion. "Lady Thornbridge was blackmailing this woman?"

"Precisely. When Lady Thornbridge demanded another piece of jewelry in exchange for further silence, however, the victim realized there would be no end to the demands. She decided to see if anything could be done to stop Lady Thornbridge."

Prudence frowned. "The victim came to you about this matter?"

"No, she consulted a Bow Street Runner named Whistlecroft. Whistlecroft decided to contact me. He and I have worked out an arrangement, you see. He has instructions to bring some of his more interesting cases to me."

Prudence was enthralled now. "And he came to you with this case?"

"Yes."

"How exciting," Prudence breathed. "Did you find the necklace last night?"

Sebastian's arrogant smile contained more than a trace of smug satisfaction. "Yes, as it happens, I did."

"Where is it? What have you done with it?"

"It was returned to its rightful owner this morning. Whistlecroft handled that end of the business. I prefer to remain anonymous in such matters. No one else except you, Whistlecroft, and a friend of mine named Garrick Sutton knows about my little hobby."

"I see. I can understand why you wish to keep your hobby a secret. But what about Lady Thornbridge? Won't she make good on her blackmail threats once she realizes her victim is no longer cooperat­ing?"

"I doubt it."

"Why not?"

"Because before I was so rudely interrupted by you and Thorn-bridge, I had time to leave a note in Lady Thornbridge's safe, in place of the necklace. She will discover it soon enough."

"A note?" Prudence asked. "What did it say?"

"Merely that an anonymous party was aware that Lady Thorn-bridge's pedigree was not quite what Society and Lord Thornbridge believed it to be. To put it bluntly, Prue, Lady Thornbridge came from the gutters and she would be ruined in Society if that fact were ever revealed."

"The gutters?"

"She is an exceedingly clever, ambitious little creature who has fought her way up in the world. I do not fault her in the least for creating a respectable facade that has fooled the ton and landed her a wealthy husband."

Prudence chuckled. "In other words, she worked hard for what she's got and you respect her for it, but you cannot countenance her falling back into her old ways, is that it?"

"Not when she chooses a victim who has also fought her way out of the stews and into Society. Lady Thornbridge has everything she wants now, so there is no need to resort to blackmailing another lady of the ton who has a background similar to her own."

"Quite right." Prudence nodded briskly in agreement. "You told her that in your note?"

"Yes."

"But how did you learn Lady Thornbridge's secrets?" Prudence asked.

"I have my methods of investigation, just as you have yours."

Prudence recalled his recent disappearances from various ball­rooms. "Your methods must be clever, indeed, my lord. Lady Thorn-bridge has succeeded in fooling the entire ton, yet you found her out. Brilliant, Angelstone. Absolutely brilliant."

"I had a feeling you would appreciate my efforts."

"I most certainly do." Prudence laughed in delight. "You handled the whole thing very well, my lord."

"Thank you."

"But won't Lady Thornbridge guess that it was you who left her the note?"

"I doubt it. Even if Thornbridge tells her that it was her bedcham­ber in which he discovered us, she probably won't connect me to the note she'll eventually find in her safe."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, it may be several days before she discovers the note. She won't have any way of knowing when it was left. For an­other, even if she does think about the fact that I was found in her bedchamber, she'll recall that you were with me," Sebastian said.

Prudence tilted her head to one side and studied him from under the brim of her bonnet. "I don't understand."

"Like everyone else, she'll think that we disappeared upstairs so that I could seduce you in the first available bedchamber I found."

"My lord." Prudence was shocked, in spite of herself. She could feel her cheeks turning violently pink.

"A charming picture, is it not?"

"I suppose that is what everyone is thinking today," Prudence said morosely.

"No doubt."

Prudence was silent for a moment as she contemplated what Se­bastian had just told her. "This information explains everything, of course. You have found yourself a most interesting, if rather danger­ous hobby, my lord."

"I enjoy it from time to time," Sebastian admitted.

"It is not unlike my own little hobby."

"I am aware of that." Sebastian flicked the reins lightly over the horses' rumps. "It gives us something in common, don't you think?"

"Yes. Yes, it does." Prudence turned to him, bubbling over with sudden enthusiasm. "Sir, it occurs to me that we could combine our interests."

Sebastian slanted her a wary glance. "What the devil are you talk­ing about?"

"I do not see why we could not conduct investigations together, my lord. Between the two of us, we would make an excellent team."

"The way we did last night?" Sebastian asked bluntly. "May I re­mind you that I very nearly got shot by a jealous husband because of your helpful assistance?"

"That is very unfair, my lord. What would you have done without me?"

"Hidden in the wardrobe myself and avoided Thornbridge," Se­bastian said succinctly. "He would never have seen me."

"Oh." Prudence sought for a successful counterargument with which to demolish his reasoning but could find none. She decided to try a different tactic. "I urge you to think of how very interesting it would be for us to work together, sir. Only consider the fascinating conversations we shall have."

"I have considered that. Why do you think I told you about Lady Thornbridge's blackmailing scheme? I did not say I was opposed to discussing my cases with you."

Prudence's hopes rose again. "Then you do think we might work together?"

"On a consulting basis only," Sebastian said evenly. "I am willing to discuss my cases with you, but I will not allow you to accompany me on my investigations. I want no more scenes such as the one that transpired last night."

"I don't see why not," Prudence retorted. "The damage has al­ready been done. We are already trapped in this farce of an engage­ment for the remainder of the Season. What else could possibly go wrong?"

Sebastian's mouth tightened in a grim line. "There is always a certain risk involved in my investigations. I do not want you con­fronting any more pistols."

Prudence's eyes widened. "Does that sort of thing happen often in the course of your investigations?"

"Of course not. But I am not going to take any chances. As I said,

I shall discuss my cases with you, but that is as far as it goes." He gave her an indulgent look. "After all, my dear, your expertise is in the field of spectral phenomena, not in the investigation of blackmailers and other such criminals."

"But I feel certain many of my methods would apply equally well to the investigation of criminal activities as they do to the investigation of spectral phenomena," Prudence assured him earnestly.

"Trust me, my dear, there is a world of difference between the two types of investigations."

Prudence glowered at him. "How would you know?"

"It's obvious." Sebastian's gloved hands moved almost impercepti­bly on the reins. The horses quickened their pace to a trot.

"My lord, I must say, you are being extremely stubborn about this. As we are going to be obliged to spend a great deal of time in each other's company for the next two and a half months, I do not see why we should not spend that time assisting each other in our various investigations."

"The answer is no, Prue, and that is final."

There was no mistaking the ring of inflexible steel in Sebastian's words. Prudence lifted her chin. "Very well, my lord. If you choose to be arrogant and thick-skulled about the matter, there is little I can do."

He smiled in approval. "I'm glad you aren't the sort of female who whines when she doesn't get her own way. I find that sort of thing extremely tiresome."

"Whine? Me? Not at all, my lord." Prudence tried to imitate his cool smile. "I would not want to bore you. In any event, I expect I shall be busy enough with my own investigations."

Sebastian inclined his head politely. "I shall look forward to hear­ing about them."

Prudence did not care for the slightly condescending tone she thought she detected in his voice. "Perhaps I will be able to give you a full report on my latest investigation as early as tomorrow morning."

"That soon?" Sebastian glanced at her. "Have you found a client here in Town?"

"A friend of Lady Pembroke's has brought me a most fascinating case." Prudence leaned closer. "Are you acquainted with Mrs. Leacock?"

Sebastian reflected briefly. "I've heard of her. Her husband re­cently died and left her his fortune, as I recall."

"Yes, well, she has recently been having a great deal of trouble with a ghost in the west wing of her home. I had hoped to be able to test out some of my latest theories by using an electricity machine to trap this particular ghost, but I fear that would be a waste of time on this case."

"How are you going to catch your ghost?"

Prudence gave him a superior sort of smile. "Lady Pembroke and I are going to stay the night with her. Tonight I shall sleep in Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber in the west wing."

Sebastian slanted her a curious glance. "You're going to trade places with Mrs. Leacock?"

"Correct. But we are not going to tell anyone about the switch."

He was amused. "Why not? Do you think the ghost will care?"

"As a matter of fact," Prudence said, "I think he just might care a great deal."

Sebastian eyed her sharply. "He?"

"I have concluded my initial inquiries. There are several interest­ing factors about this particular case of spectral phenomena," Pru­dence confided. "The first is that the apparition did not begin appear­ing until very recently."

"How recently?"

"The incidents began occurring shortly after Mr. Leacock's death," Prudence said. "Mrs. Leacock had never before encountered the ghost in the west wing. Nor had anyone else. There were no ru­mors of the house being haunted until now."

"The woman has just suffered the loss of her husband," Sebastian reminded her. "She is probably having nightmares."

"I'm not entirely convinced of that. You see, the second interesting feature of this case is that Mrs. Leacock has no children of her own. But according to Lady Pembroke, she does have three greedy neph­ews. And all three are aware that their aunt has recently been told by her doctor that she has a weak heart."

"Bloody hell." Sebastian stared at her. "Are you telling me you think that the nephews might be deliberately trying to terrify their aunt in hopes of causing her heart to fail?"

"I think it's quite possible. Tonight I intend to find out."

"By confronting the ghost?" Sebastian's jaw set in an implacable line. "I think not."

"You, my lord," Prudence said sweetly, "have nothing to say about it."

"The devil, I don't. I'm your fiance now, Prue."

"In name only."

"Nevertheless," he said between his teeth, "you will listen to me."

"I have been listening to you, my lord." Prudence smiled serenely. "And you have made it very clear that we are to conduct our investiga­tions separately. As I understand it, you do not wish us to work to­gether as a team. Or did I mistake your meaning?"

"Don't throw my words back in my face, you little baggage. You know damn well what I meant."

Prudence gave him a lofty smile. "I heard you very clearly, my lord. We are allowed to discuss our cases with each other, but we are not to assist each other in the actual investigations. Don't worry, I shall tell you all about my discoveries tomorrow."

Sebastian's eyes glittered. "Prue, you have a great deal to learn about being an engaged woman."

"Do you think so, my lord? How odd. And here I thought I was adapting rather nicely to my new role."

"Prue, I will not allow you—"

"Prudence. By God, it is you. I didn't believe it."

Prudence flinched at the sound of the familiar masculine voice. She had not heard it in nearly three years, but she was hardly likely to forget it. She turned her head and looked straight into the soft gray eyes of the man who had taught her that her intuition was not infalli­ble.

"Good afternoon, Lord Underbrink," she said quietly as the new­comer guided his handsome gray stallion closer to the phaeton.

Prudence took a deep breath and forced herself to examine Ed­ward, Lord Underbrink, with polite detachment. To her surprise and overwhelming relief she felt nothing except a sense of deep chagrin at the memory of her own gullibility. What a little fool she had been three years ago to think that Underbrink was serious when he made his proposal of marriage.

There had never been any question of the heir to the Underbrink title marrying the daughter of a country squire. Edward had merely been amusing himself that summer.

He had not changed much in three years, Prudence reflected. His hair was still as fair as she remembered, his eyes still as open and guileless. His pleasant features were still quite appealing, although she thought she detected some signs of plumpness developing around his jawline. He was dressed in a well-cut coat that was the exact same shade of pearl gray as his expensive mount.

"This is astonishing," Underbrink said. "I just got back into Town yesterday. I learned that you were here for the Season last night, but I could hardly credit it." He glanced uneasily at Sebastian. "There were rumors of an engagement."

Sebastian flicked a brief, dismissing glance over Underbrink. "The rumors are true."

Edward's gaze jerked quickly back to Prudence. "I don't under­stand."

"In that case, Underbrink," Sebastian said softly, "I suggest you try reading the notices that will appear in tomorrow's morning papers. Perhaps that will make it clear to you."

Edward frowned. "Now, see here, Angelstone, Prudence and I are old friends. I have every right to be interested in her engagement. You cannot blame me for being surprised by this announcement."

Prudence saw the cold fire pooling in Sebastian's eyes. She did not know why he was acting as if he were annoyed by Edward, but she decided it would be best to head off a confrontation.

"How is Lady Underbrink these days?" Prudence asked brightly. She had never met the woman Edward had married, but it seemed safe enough to inquire after her.

A deep, angry flush stained Edward's cheeks. "She's well enough," he said brusquely. "Listen, Prue, I shall be at the Handleys' soiree this evening. Will you be there?"

"She will not be attending the Handleys' soiree," Sebastian said. "And in future, Underbrink, you will address my fiancee as Miss Mer-ryweather. Is that very clear?"

Edward straightened quickly in his saddle. His flush deepened. "Of course."

"I'm glad to see you are capable of comprehending a few simple things. You will be the healthier for it." Sebastian urged his horses to a faster pace. "Now you must excuse us, Underbrink."

The black phaeton sped down the wide path, leaving Edward be­hind.

Prudence took a deep breath. She knew she ought to reproach Sebastian for his rudeness, but she could not bring herself to do so. She suddenly realized how tense she had been during the encounter.

She did not know what she had expected to feel upon seeing Lord Underbrink again, but the only emotion she was truly aware of was a sense of relief. Relief that he had not married her after all. It was diffi­cult to recall that she had once thought herself in love with him.

Sebastian said nothing for a few minutes. He appeared to be con­centrating entirely on his driving. Eventually he eased the horses back to a walk.

"How do you come to be acquainted with Underbrink?" he asked without any inflection in his voice.

Prudence adjusted her spectacles. "Three years ago he spent a great deal of the summer in Dorset. He was staying with friends who were neighbors of ours. We met on several occasions. Assemblies, card parties, that sort of thing."

"What happened?"

Prudence flashed him a quick glance and then returned her atten­tion to the ears of his horses. "Not a great deal. At the end of the summer he returned to London to become engaged to the woman his family wished him to marry."

"Lucinda Montclair."

"Yes, I believe that was her name," Prudence said quietly. "Her father is said to be very rich."

"He is. Lucinda is also a very wealthy young woman in her own right."

"So I was given to understand," Prudence murmured.

"And an extremely jealous woman," Sebastian added. "Word is that Underbrink is henpecked. Apparently his wife keeps him on a very short leash. Did he seduce you during that summer in Dorset?"

Prudence nearly dropped her reticule. "Good heavens, my lord. What a thing to ask."

"It seems a reasonable enough question to me."

"It is a very unreasonable question," Prudence retorted. "But for your information, Lord Underbrink was a perfect gentleman at all times."

There was no need to explain that Edward had kissed her on sev­eral occasions. A lady was entitled to some privacy, after all. In any event, Edward's kisses now appeared distinctly uninspired compared to the searing kiss Sebastian had given her the night she had gone to his town house.

"So you and Underbrink were no more than friends three years ago?"

"Precisely," Prudence said tightly. "There was never anything of a serious nature between us. Lord Underbrink was merely amusing him­self in the country that summer."

She must keep in mind that Underbrink was not the only one who sought to amuse himself in ways that could prove painful for others.

Shortly after midnight that night, Prudence put on a white mus­lin cap and climbed into the massive canopied bed that dominated Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber. She was wearing a serviceable woolen gown rather than a night rail and she had on her spectacles. She did not intend to sleep tonight.

She had to admit she was having a few second thoughts about her investigation. The west wing of the Leacock mansion seemed eerily quiet. There was no denying that it was a fine setting for a real ghost. Prudence could not even hear the normal street sounds of carriage wheels, nightmen, and drunken revelers because the bedchamber faced the vast, silent Leacock gardens.

The notion of spending the night in Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber had seemed an excellent one when Prudence first thought of it. If one or more of Mrs. Leacock's greedy nephews was up to some nefarious trick, this was the only way to catch him. Poor Mrs. Leacock had suffered enough.

Prudence leaned across the bed to open the drawer in the night-stand. She reached inside and touched the cold metal of the small pistol she had put there earlier.

Somewhat reassured, she leaned back against the pillows and gazed up at the heavy canopy overhead. It was going to be a very long night.

Not that she didn't have plenty to think about, she told herself. Her life had certainly taken an interesting turn of late. She still could not quite believe that she was engaged to Sebastian. The fact that the engagement was not going to last very long did nothing to diminish her excitement.

She must remember that her relationship with Sebastian was doomed to remain a friendship. He was, after all, an earl and he could certainly look much higher than herself when he finally got around to choosing a wife. He would do his duty by his title and family name, just as Edward had done three years ago.

But she also knew in her heart she was wildly attracted to the Fallen Angel. The sense of deep recognition that she experienced when she was with him was startling in its intensity. It was also infi-nitely more seductive than the far more shallow feelings she had expe­rienced toward Edward.

It would take very little for her to fall in love with Sebastian, Prudence thought. In truth, she suspected she was already in love with him.

Prudence scowled and adjusted the heavy quilt. She must not in­dulge herself in foolish, hopeless, romantic dreams about Sebastian.

Instead she would content herself with savoring the pleasures of an intellectual connection to the only man she had ever met who under­stood and shared her interests.

If she were very fortunate, she thought, suddenly optimistic, such an intellectual connection might continue to exist even after she was obliged to return to Dorset. Perhaps she could correspond with him. He could keep her informed of his investigations. He might be inter­ested in asking her advice on certain topics. She would tell him about her research into spectral phenomena.

Yes, a correspondence might very well be possible. At least until he acquired a wife. Prudence was instantly downcast. Sebastian was very likely to find himself a wife quite soon. He had a certain responsibility, after all.

A small muffled thud snapped Prudence out of her reverie. The soft noise sent a jolt of alarm through her. She sat up against the pillows, straining to listen.

The notion of confronting the ghost alone suddenly seemed some­what more daunting than it had earlier. If she was correct in her suspicions concerning Mrs. Leacock's nephews, she might be in some danger. Prudence wished Sebastian were with her. He would be a very competent assistant in this phase of the investigation.

She peered into the darkness, watching for candlelight beneath the door that connected Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber to the next room. Mrs. Leacock had said that the ghost carried a candle.

Another muted thud made Prudence's pulse race more swiftly. She started to reach for the pistol in the drawer.

She froze when she caught sight of the dark shadow of a man standing on the ledge outside the window. Panic assailed her. Nothing had been said about the ghost entering from that direction.

The window opened abruptly. Cold air swept into the room.

Prudence found her voice. "Who goes there?" She wrenched open the drawer and grabbed the pistol.

The cloaked figure that had been looming outside on the ledge stepped into the room.

"Stop, whoever you are." Prudence pushed aside the covers and scrambled out of bed. She clutched the pistol with both hands.

"I pray you won't use that pistol, my dear," Sebastian said calmly. "Only think of the gossip that would ensue were you to shoot your fiance a day after announcing your engagement."

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