Dangerous

Chapter Eight

Sebastian put down his cue and glanced at the handful of other players gathered around Lord Curling's billiard table. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I believe I have had enough of this game for today."

"Come, now," one of the other guests protested, "you must give us a chance to win back a bit of the blunt you have lifted from us this afternoon, Angelstone."

"You don't seem to comprehend, Dodwell," Sebastian said. "I am bored with the play."

"Let him go," another man advised from the other side of the green baize table. "I expect Angelstone has more interesting enter­tainment in mind."

The men gathered around the table chuckled and exchanged knowing glances.

"Don't we all," one grumbled good-naturedly. "Unfortunately, it is a bit early in the day yet."

One of the players looked at Sebastian. "If you are anxious to see what your fiancee is up to at the moment, check the east gardens. I believe you will find her in the process of winning the ladies' archery contest."

"No doubt." Sebastian started toward the door of Curling's vast library. "She has already taken the honors in all the rest of the games that were arranged for the ladies today."

While Sebastian had spent the day with the other gentlemen who had been invited to Curling Castle, Prudence had been busily sam­pling the pleasures of a country house party with the ladies. In typical

Prudence fashion, she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the en­tertainments.

At noon, just as he was returning from a fishing expedition with the men, word reached Sebastian that Prudence had been first through the elaborate maze. At two o'clock, while he was touring his host's stables, he heard that the ladies had returned from their walk to the old Norman ruins. Prudence had apparently led the group in both directions and had done a detailed sketch of the view.

This afternoon she had won all the contests held on the wide sweep of lawn that fronted the castle and had signed up to participate in the amateur theatrics after dinner that evening.

Sebastian looked forward to watching her performance as an ac­tress. He smiled, thinking of his mother.

He had a hunch that Prudence and his mother would have taken to each other on sight. They were both women of intelligence, passion, and integrity. His father had once told him that such women were rare and if a man was fortunate enough to find and keep one, no price was too high to pay.

Sebastian examined his surroundings as he made his way through the long hall to the terrace. Curling Castle was a cavernous pile of old stone that rose three stories above the land around it. It had been built during the previous century by a wealthy but rather eccentric merchant who had been determined to elevate himself to the level of a gentleman. In the attempt to achieve that goal, he had poured a fortune into his estate.

The result had been a monstrosity of a house. The hallways ap­peared endless. Curling had admitted at breakfast that he wasn't cer­tain how many rooms the house contained. He had added that the top floor and the tower rooms were never used at all, even when the house was full, as it was that weekend.

That bit of information had intrigued Sebastian. According to all accounts, Ringcross had fallen from a tower room. Sebastian won­dered what he had been doing in an unused portion of the house.

Tonight he and Prudence would do some investigating, he thought as he strolled out onto the terrace. Prudence would enjoy that enor­mously.

He saw the ladies lined up in front of the archery targets that had been placed in the east gardens. Each held a dainty bow and a tiny arrow that probably would not have felled a mouse at point-blank range.

There was a great deal of laughter from the contestants and good-natured cheering from the audience. Sebastian studied the crowd closely. He frowned when he saw that Underbrink was in the group.

Underbrink was evidently a new arrival. He certainly had not been around last night or this morning. Sebastian noted that there was no sign of Underbrink's ever-vigilant wife.

As Sebastian watched, Underbrink sauntered over to Prudence and apparently offered to help her with her bow. Prudence shook her head quite firmly. Underbrink shrugged and walked back to join the crowd.

Lady Pembroke also stood amid the onlookers. She glanced up, saw Sebastian on the terrace, and waved a violet hankie that matched her gown. Then she turned back to watch Prudence take her shot.

Prudence was last in line. She was the only contestant who was not giggling or coyly asking one of the gentlemen to show her how to cock the arrow. Her spectacles sparkled in the sunlight as she concentrated intently on the target. The seriousness of her expression made Sebas­tian smile.

The day was cloudy. A crisp breeze caused the skirts of Prudence's dull bronze afternoon dress to ripple enticingly about her legs. Sebas­tian admired her trim little ankles for a full minute before he became aware of the fact that he was not the only male doing so. He glanced to the side and saw that his host had come out of the house to join him.

"I must congratulate you, Angelstone. She's an oddly attractive little thing. Not at all in the usual style." Lord Curling's pale blue eyes were fixed on Prudence. "I'd heard your fiancee was an Original. But then, from all accounts that is the only sort of woman who would be likely to appeal to you. Is it true she investigates ghosts?"

Sebastian slanted Curling an assessing glance. In truth, the baron was probably no better or worse than most of the other gentlemen of the ton.

Sebastian knew there were many who would say his own reputa­tion left more to be desired than did Curling's. The legitimacy of Curling's birth, for example, had never been questioned.

Sebastian had made a few inquiries before leaving London but had turned up little more than he already knew about Curling. In spite of his tendency toward lavish entertaining here at Curling Castle, there were no particularly unpleasant rumors about the man. No one had ever accused him of cheating at cards, for example. He had not foueht any duels. There was no indication that he favored the same sort of brothels that Ringcross had.

But Sebastian could not bring himself to actually like the man. Studying him now, he thought he knew why. There was cold, sexual interest in Curling's eyes as he watched Prudence. Sebastian knew that if it weren't for the fact that he was committed to spending the week­end investigating Ringcross's death, he would have been tempted to take Prudence back to Town immediately.

But Sebastian also knew that if he even so much as suggested they leave, Prudence would be outraged. She was looking forward to to­night's investigations with such enthusiasm that he could not bring himself to disappoint her.

"My fiancee is extremely interested in spectral phenomena," Se­bastian said without inflection.

"Fascinating." Curling turned his head to look at him. "And has she ever discovered a genuine ghost?"

"No."

"Pity." Curling's heavy features assumed a thoughtful expression. "I have occasionally wondered if ghosts actually exist."

"Have you?" Sebastian gripped the stone wall that surrounded the terrace and watched as Prudence shot her arrow. "What is it about the subject of ghosts that alarms you, Curling? Are you afraid of encoun­tering one, or is it the possibility of returning as one yourself that makes you anxious?"

"You mistake me, Angelstone. The notion of ghosts does not alarm me in the least. It merely intrigues me. I frequently find myself consumed with ennui. Encountering a ghost would be a most amusing experience, would it not? Almost as amusing as some other experi­ences I can imagine."

Sebastian's hands tightened on the stone wall. "I would advise you to be extremely cautious about how you decide to relieve your bore­dom."

"Rest assured I am a very prudent man, Angelstone." Curling smiled with satisfaction as Prudence's arrow buried itself close to the heart of the target. "Excellent shot. I do believe your lady has won, sir."

"She usually does," Sebastian said. He noticed that Underbrink was applauding with a great deal of enthusiasm.

"I am delighted that you finally elected to accept one of my invita­tions," Curling said. His eyes were still on Prudence. "I wondered at first what had convinced you to come out into the country at last. But when I received your request for an invitation for your fiancee and her friend, Lady Pembroke, I understood your reasons."

"Did you?"

"But of course." Curling gave a knowing chuckle. "City life can be quite restrictive in some ways for an engaged couple. Out here in the country things are far more casual. Enjoy yourself this weekend, Angelstone."

"I fully intend to do so."

Hark, my dearest Gerald, someone comes. Mayhap it is Lord Braxton. Flee. Flee at once. You must not be discovered here with me.

Seated on a chintz sofa in a small room that overlooked one of the castle terraces, Prudence frowned intently over the lines she was at­tempting to memorize.

She had secluded herself in the quiet room half an hour earlier and had worked very hard on her part. But she was coming to the conclusion that acting was rather more difficult than she had antici­pated.

The short play was to be staged later in the evening. She was to act the role of Elisa, a young woman whose parents were about to an­nounce her engagement to the mysterious Lord Braxton. Terrified of the match, Elisa was poised to run off with charming, handsome Ger­ald. Prudence personally thought Elisa had chosen the wrong man.

She tried the lines aloud. "Flee. Flee at once. You must not be discovered here with me."

"Have no fear, my darling," Edward, Lord Underbrink, said from the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder and then stepped quickly into the room. "It is quite safe."

"Edward." Prudence looked up in astonishment.

"Yes, it is I, my dearest." He closed the door behind him and gave her a conspiratorial smile. "The ladies are all upstairs resting before dinner and the gentlemen are with Curling in his library."

"What are you doing here? Do you have a role in the play?"

"No, my dearest Prudence, I am here because I must speak with you." Edward crossed the room swiftly and went down on his knee in front of her. He grasped one of her hands in both of his. "My darling, I have longed to see you alone."

Prudence tried unobtrusively to free her hand and failed. "Why?"

"Because there is so much to explain." Edward kissed the hand he had seized. "You must believe me when I say that I have never forgot­ten that magical summer in Dorset."

"Which summer? We have had several, you know. We get one every year, in fact."

"Such a charming wit, my dear. But there is only one summer that lives on in my heart, my dearest Prudence." Edward's eyes filled with emotion. "And that is the summer I met you. I cannot believe you have forgotten what we meant to each other."

"Edward, if you don't mind, I really must concentrate on learning my lines." Prudence tried to tug her hand out of his grasp once more.

Edward held on to his prize. "You cannot know how I felt when I saw you again in the park the other day. The sight of you brought back all of the memories. My life has been so empty without you, my dearest."

"Edward, you are married. You can hardly say that your life is empty."

"But it is. I am so lonely, my darling. You must know that my marriage is a loveless match. I was forced into it for the sake of my family and the title. But my wife does not understand my needs."

Prudence began to grow irritated. "Apparently I did not under­stand them, either, my lord. Had I done so, I would have realized sooner that you were merely amusing yourself with me that summer in Dorset."

"My dearest, nothing could be further from the truth. Only the most stringent sense of family duty forced me to leave you. I had no choice, my love."

"You could have told me at the start of the summer that you were not free to love where you chose," Prudence said bluntly. "I did not appreciate being the last to know."

"Forgive me, I could not bear to tell you." Edward rained kisses on her palm. "I confess that the time I had with you was stolen time, my dearest. It was all I could give you. All I could give myself. And it was not enough for either of us, was it?"

"Actually, I believe it was quite enough for me," Prudence said.

Edward smiled sadly. "You cannot hide your true feelings from me, Prudence. I know that your love for me was too fine and too pure to ever be extinguished."

"I fear it was not quite that fine or that pure because it seems to have gone out like a candle."

"Then I shall devote myself to reigniting the embers which I know must be glowing somewhere inside you," Edward vowed.

Prudence wondered fleetingly how she could ever have taken Ed­ward seriously that summer in Dorset. Of course, she reminded her­self, she had been three years younger then. And she had not yet met Sebastian.

"I do not think that Angelstone will appreciate your efforts," Pru­dence said dryly.

"Angelstone. That devil." Edward tightened his grip on her hand. "I cannot believe you are to marry the Fallen Angel himself. You are a woman of warmth and sunshine. It pains me to think of you trapped in the arms of such a cold man."

Prudence frowned. "Angelstone is not in the least cold."

"They say he has ice in his veins."

"Nonsense," Prudence said briskly. "He has acted as if he did for so long that I daresay he believes it himself. He has acting talent in his blood, you know. But he most assuredly does not have ice in his veins."

Edward gave her a pitying glance. "My dear, you are too kind-hearted. You do not understand how dangerous Angelstone really is. For the sake of what we once shared, you must listen to me. You must not allow yourself to be carried off by the Lord of the Underworld."

"I am afraid that I have every intention of carrying her off, Under-brink," Sebastian said from the doorway. His voice was dangerously soft and very, very cold. "So I would advise you to release my fiancee's hand at once."

Edward dropped Prudence's hand as though it had singed him. He jumped to his feet. "Angelstone."

Prudence smiled at Sebastian. "Hello, Angelstone. I did not hear you come in."

"Obviously." Sebastian lounged in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He kept his attention on Edward. "What is going on here?"

"Playacting, my lord," Prudence said gently. "Nothing more. Is that not right, Lord Underbrink?"

Edward flushed. "Yes," he stammered. "Playacting. I was helping Prudence—I mean, Miss Merryweather—practice her lines."

"Flee," Prudence murmured in her best dramatic accents. "Flee at once. I do not require your assistance, sir. Angelstone can help me memorize my lines."

"Yes, of course." Edward ran a finger underneath the edge of his snugly knotted cravat. "If you will excuse me, Miss Merryweather."

"Good-bye, Lord Underbrink."

Edward went toward the door with an uneasy expression. It was clear that he was not entirely certain Sebastian would move. At the last moment Sebastian stepped lazily aside. Edward sidled quickly past him and fled.

Sebastian arched a brow at Prudence. "Playacting?"

"Yes, and do you know, Angelstone, I have discovered that acting is very hard work."

"That's what my mother always said."

"I do not understand how those of us in the cast will ever manage to learn our lines by this evening."

"Most of the cast won't bother." Sebastian came toward her. "They will simply read them on stage."

"Oh, dear. Am I wasting my time, do you think?" Prudence smiled ruefully. "It is really a.very silly play."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is all about a lady who is engaged to a very interesting man named Lord Braxton. But she foolishly believes herself in love with an extremely weak-brained creature named Gerald. If I were her, I would say farewell to Gerald and then I would allow myself to be carried off by the mysterious Lord Braxton."

"Would you, indeed?" Sebastian drew her to her feet and framed her face in his hands.

"Definitely." She held her breath, wondering if he was going to kiss her. "That is exactly what I would do."

"I am delighted to hear it." He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. "Now, then, would you like some help learning your lines?"

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all. Acting is in my blood, you know."

Later that night Prudence dismissed the harried maid who had been assigned to her as well as several other ladies and began to pace the floor of her bedchamber. Silence had fallen over Curling Castle. The guests had all retired to their bedrooms after an evening of ama­teur theatrics, cards, and drinking.

Prudence had been rather proud of her first attempt at treading the boards. She was the only one who had memorized her lines and she was ridiculously pleased when Sebastian clapped loudly in re­sponse to her performance.

But now she was ready for the real adventure of the evening.

Prudence had removed her night rail as soon as the door closed behind the maid. She had quickly redressed in a sturdy woolen gown she had brought with her for the occasion and now she was impa­tiently waiting for Sebastian to fetch her so that they could begin their investigations.

It seemed forever before her door opened without any warning and Sebastian stepped quietly into the room. He glanced back over his shoulder as he beckoned her. "Are you ready?"

"Of course." Prudence picked up an unlit candle and hurried to­ward the door. "What kept you?"

"I was waiting for the traffic in the hall to fade somewhat." He smiled. "Did you know that young Dodwell is conducting a liaison with Lady Keegan?"

"Lady Keegan?" Prudence was startled. "But she must be twice his age. Furthermore, she is married."

"But her husband stayed behind in Town, if you will recall." Sebas­tian touched her lips with his finger. "Not a word, now, until we reach the stairs."

He took her hand and led her quickly along the silent hall. There was no need yet for the candle, Prudence realized. The light from a wall sconce provided just enough illumination to make out the door­ways and stairs. Apparently Lord Curling was well aware of the late-night habits of his guests.

The staircase that led to the third floor was a different matter entirely. It was pitch-black and a cold draft made itself felt through the skirts of Prudence's warm gown.

Sebastian did not allow Prudence to light her candle until they reached the top of the stairs and were safely out of sight in the deep shadows of the upper hallway. When the taper flared to life, he took it from her and held it aloft.

"How will we know which room Ringcross was in when he died?"

"I had my valet make a few discreet inquiries among the servants earlier," Sebastian explained. "One of them told him it was the room in the south tower."

"It's quite chilly up here." Prudence rubbed her arms briskly as they walked toward the south wine of the sprawlitie castle.

"Curling said this floor was never used. No point wasting heat on it."

"If this floor is never occupied, what was Ringcross doing up here the night he died?" Prudence asked.

"A very good question, my dear." Sebastian paused in front of a closed door at the end of the hall. "This must be the chamber."

Prudence tried the doorknob. "It's locked."

"I'll take care of it. Here, hold the candle."

Prudence took the candle from him. She watched in admiration as Sebastian removed a short length of metal from his sleeve. He in­serted it cautiously into the lock.

"Open for me, sweet," Sebastian whispered to the lock. "That's it, darling, let me inside. Give me what I want. Ah, yes. That's right. That's what I need. Beautiful."

There was a tiny click. Sebastian turned the doorknob and opened the door. The hinges squeaked eerily.

Prudence was impressed. "Very clever, my lord."

He smiled faintly as he moved into the room. "Thank you, my dear. It is always pleasant to have one's small accomplishments appre­ciated."

"You must teach me how to do that," Prudence said.

"I'm not certain that is a sound notion. If I teach you all my tricks, you might decide you no longer need me."

"Nonsense." Prudence started to follow him into the dark cham­ber. "We are a team, my lord. We must share our expertise with each— Good heavens." She gasped as a wave of deep, unrelenting cold swept through her.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian asked from the shadows.

"I don't knpw." Prudence glanced at the candle in her hand, fully expecting to see that it had gone out. But the flame still burned. "It's freezing cold in here."

"No colder than it is out in the hall."

"It feels much colder- to me." She raised the candle and gazed around the chamber.

The furnishings were limited to a strange-looking bed with iron posts, a massive wardrobe, a table, and heavy drapes covering the windows.

"Everything is in black," Prudence whispered in awe. "The drapes, the bedclothes, the carpet. Everything." She raised the candle higher and peered at two lengths of chain that dangled from the wall. "What on earth are those things?"

Sebastian walked across the room and examined the chains. "Man­acles."

"Good heavens. How very odd. Do you suppose this was once a dungeon?"

"No. Dungeons are usually built at the bottom of the house, not the top."

"A most unusual decor."

"Yes." Sebastian took the candle from Prudence and began to move slowly around the room.

Prudence shivered as she watched him. It was definitely colder in here than out in the hall, she thought. She wondered why Sebastian didn't feel the difference. It was not just the chill in the chamber that bothered her. There was an unpleasant sensation of darkness and shadow that had nothing to do with the ordinary gloom of night.

"Sebastian, there is something very wrong about this chamber," she said urgently.

He glanced at her in concern. "Damnation. You're frightened. I should never have brought you up here. Come, I will take you back to your bedchamber."

"No." She managed a hasty smile of reassurance. "No, I am quite all right. Just a bit cold."

"Are you certain you don't want to go back to your room?"

"And miss the opportunity to observe your investigation tech­niques? Absolutely not," she said staunchly. "Carry on, my lord."

He gave her a last, speculative look. "Very well. But if you become any more alarmed, you must tell me at once. I won't have you terrified out of your wits by this business."

"I assure you I am not in the least bit terrified." Prudence sought for a way to change the subject. "Do you know, I cannot imagine using this as a guest room. It is far too bizarre."

"I agree." Sebastian stopped in front of the wardrobe and opened it. "There are not many houseguests who would be comfortable in such a chamber."

"Is there anything inside that wardrobe?" Prudence stepped closer, momentarily distracted by the expression of intense concentra­tion she saw on Sebastian's face.

"No, it appears to be empty." Sebastian leaned into the shadowed wardrobe. "But there are a number of small drawers built into it."

"Let me see." Prudence glanced inside. Several rows of clrawers occupied most of the space. "I wonder what one would keep in here?"

"I have no idea." Sebastian began systematically opening the little drawers.

They were all empty except for the very last one in the lower right-hand corner. Sebastian was about to close it as he had the others when he paused, frowning.

"What is it?" Prudence stood on tiptoe, trying to peer over his shoulder. She saw the gleam of gold in the corner of the small drawer. "A coin."

"No, a button." Sebastian plucked the little gold object out of the drawer and held it in front of the candle. "It's engraved." He studied it more closely. "The Princes of Virtue."

Prudence frowned. "Virtue? Do you suppose that button belongs to an Evangelical?"

"I doubt it." Sebastian looked thoughtful. "Members of sonie gen­tlemen's clubs often have their buttons engraved with the n^me of their particular clubs."

"Have you ever heard of a club called The Princes of Virtual"

"No," Sebastian admitted. "I have not. But I might be ^ble to learn something about it when we return to Town." He dropped the button into his pocket and closed the drawer.

"I suppose it's highly unlikely that button will provide any clues about the nature of Ringcross's death," Prudence said, disappointed. "I doubt if there is any connection. I suspect the button has bee_n lying in that drawer for years."

"One never knows," Sebastian said cryptically. He made to close the wardrobe doors and paused. He leaned forward once again.

"What is it?"

"There is an unusual joining in the wood," Sebastian said.

Prudence looked closer. "It reminds me of the sort of joining I found in the section of the floor that concealed the Pembroke jewels."

"I believe there is a false back in this wardrobe." Sebastian pushed experimentally against the back of the wardrobe. Nothing happened. "There is probably a hidden spring around here somewhere."

Prudence went around the side of the wardrobe to take a look from the outside. "The wardrobe is directly against the wall, Sebas­tian. Even if you manage to open the back, you would find only stone behind it."

"Nevertheless, I would like to solve this small puzzle." Sebastian continued to examine the inside of the wardrobe.

Prudence understood the impulse that drove him. She, too, was curious to see if there was a hidden mechanism designed to open the back of the wardrobe.

She got down on her knees to see if there was any sign of a lever or spring beneath the cabinet. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a small object beneath the bed.

"Sebastian, there is something over there."

"What is it?"

"It is under the bed. A little box, I believe." Prudence crawled toward the bed on her hands and knees. "Hold the candle lower."

"Let me get it." Sebastian reached down and hauled her upright. "We do not know what else may be under that damn bed."

She wrinkled her nose at his broad back as he went down on one knee. "Very well, my lord, but I want you to remember that it is I who spotted this particular bit of evidence, whatever it is."

"I would have gotten around to exploring beneath the bed in due course." Sebastian reached under the bed and picked up the little object.

"Well?" Prudence demanded eagerly. "What have you got?"

"A snuffbox."

"Is there anything else under there?" Prudence asked.

"Just a chamber pot." Sebastian got to his feet and turned the little snuffbox over in his hand. He opened it. "There is still some snuff inside." He held the box close to his nose and inhaled cautiously. "A very distinctive aroma."

"I am glad you do not use snuff," Prudence remarked. "It is a very nasty habit."

"But also a very common one. As is this snuffbox. It looks like dozens of others carried by gentlemen of the ton." Sebastian got to his feet. "Nevertheless, this blend is quite unusual. It might be possible to discover which tobacconist created it and for whom it was created."

"Perhaps it belonged to Ringcross, which will tell us little."

"I'm not so certain about that." Sebastian swept the shadowed chamber with another intent glance. "One would have thought that if it had belonged to Ringcross, it would have gone out the window at the same time he did. Unless there was a struggle in this room before he died and the box somehow fell out of his Docket."

Prudence stared at him. "You think this might really be a case of murder?"

"It is too soon to say. But the investigation grows more interesting by the moment." He walked over to the window and swept the heavy black drapes aside.

Prudence studied the large window. "It would be awkward to fall from there unless one were standing on the ledge."

"Yes. But one could certainly push a man over the edge," Sebas­tian said.

Prudence shivered again as another wave of deep, endless cold assailed her. "Or one could jump."

She was abruptly swamped with emotions that seemed to emanate from some source other than herself. Rage and terror mingled within her for an instant, sending another shudder through her. Prudence staggered beneath the onslaught, yet she understood that she was not the one who had actually felt these horrifying sensations.

Someone else had experienced these dreadful feelings here in this chamber. Another woman. Prudence was certain of it.

"Prudence?" Sebastian held the candle high and gazed down into her face. "What's wrong?"

She looked up at him, willing him to understand. "I think I am encountering my first real ghost."

"Enough." He took her arm and started purposefully toward the door. "This has been too much for you. I am going to get you out of here at once."

"Sebastian, this is not my imagination. I vow, something terrible happened in here. I'm not at all certain it has to do with Ringcross. I can feel a woman's presence."

"Calm yourself, my sweet."

"But, Sebastian—"

He had her through the door. He paused long enough to lock the chamber and then he urged her quickly down the black hallway to­ward the stairs.

Prudence was dismayed. "You think I am allowing my imagination to take control of my senses, don't you?"

"You are a very creative and intelligent woman, my dear. Such talents sometimes have their drawbacks."

"Fustian. Terrible events have occurred in that room, Sebastian. Perhaps they relate to Ringcross's death, perhaps not. But I swear to

"I am not disputing you, Prue." Sebastian whisked her along the long hall toward the stairs.

"You don't believe me," she said.

"I admit I do not believe in ghosts. I also admit that I have a strong preference for solid evidence before I reach my conclusions."

"In other words, you think I am the victim of an overactive imagi­nation."

"My dear, the fact that you have chosen to investigate spectral phenomena as a hobby would indicate that your imagination is very active, indeed. No offense, but you must understand that my own hobby requires a more stringent investigative approach."

"Hah. You think your approach is superior to mine?"

"Perhaps not in cases of spectral phenomena, but when it comes to investigating a crime, most definitely."

"That is an insufferably arrogant, high-handed thing to say," Pru­dence announced. "My methods are just as scientific as yours."

Without any warning the door they were passing on the right sud­denly swung inward. There was a scratching noise and then a candle flared. An old man with a scraggly beard peered at them.

"What in bloody hell?" Sebastian jerked Prudence behind him and whirled to face the wizened figure in the doorway. "Who are you?"

The old man ignored him and gazed at Prudence with rheumy eyes. "You ain't her." His deeply lined face collapsed in obvious disap­pointment.

"I beg your pardon?" Prudence stood on tiptoe to look at him from her position directly behind Sebastian's right shoulder.

"I said, you ain't her." The old man squinted. "I been hiding up here ever since she done in the other one. I been watchin‘ for her to come. Figured she'd be back to get the others. I wanted to see her for meself."

"Who was it you were expecting to see?" Sebastian asked.

"The poor gel what jumped to her death from that cursed cham­ber." The man gave Sebastian a shrewd look. "I'm the one what found her, y'know."

"No, I didn't know," Sebastian said.

"Found her in the stream. They said she'd fallen in and drowned, but I seen her jump. They carried her body to the stream and dumped her in so folks would think she fell in and drowned. But I know bet-

The man was half mad, Prudence realized, but he believed every word he was saying. "Who are you?"

"Higgins. Halfwit Higgins, they call me." Higgins laughed sound­lessly, revealing a mouth that was virtually empty of teeth.

"When did the girl jump, Higgins?" Sebastian asked.

"A long time ago." Higgins spoke in a singsong voice now. His eyes seemed to be focused on something far away. "But I ain't for­got."

"Was Ringcross responsible for causing her to jump?" Sebastian demanded.

"They was all responsible." Higgins nodded wisely. "And they'll all pay. You'll see. They'll all pay. She cursed ‘em afore she jumped, you see. Told 'em she'd be avenged. Now it's started."

"She came back for Ringcross?" Prudence gripped Sebastian's arm. "Is that what you mean, Mr. Higgins?"

"She'll come for the others, too." Higgins moved out of the door­way. He started down the hall.

"Wait. Who are the others?" Sebastian asked quickly. "When did the girl jump?"

But Higgins paid no attention. He hummed tunelessly and kept walking away down the hall. Sebastian made to go after him.

"Let him be," Prudence said. "The poor man is mad. If you try to question him further, you will only agitate him. There's no telling what he will do. He might cause a stir and alarm the household. It would ruin any chance we have of completing our investigation."

"Hell and damnation, he knows something about this affair." Se­bastian watched in frustration as Higgins turned a corner in the dark hall and disappeared from sight.

"Perhaps less than you think," Prudence said thoughtfully. "He seemed to be suffering from some sort of delirium. The girl's death might be merely an old legend that he has somehow gotten confused with Ringcross's death."

"Who do you suppose he is?"

"I don't have any idea. An old family retainer long since pensioned off, perhaps." Prudence smiled. "Or mayhap he was a ghost."

Sebastian scowled at her as he took her arm and guided her to­ward the stairs. "That was no ghost."

"How do you know? You've never met one."

"I'll know one when I see one." Sebastian reached the stairs and the floor below. "You, on the other hand, have seen one too many tonight."

"Nonsense. I won't allow you to make it sound as if I am in the habit of seeing apparitions. I assure you, I am not. Just because I felt something odd in that chamber does not mean I am weak-minded."

"Hush." Sebastian came to a halt midway down the staircase.

He flattened himself against the wall and pulled Prudence into his arms. He turned her so that her face was hidden against his chest.

"What are you doing?" Prudence mumbled into his shirt.

"Quiet," he whispered into her ear. "The traffic in the hall seems to have become somewhat brisk again."

"Oh."

Somewhere in the corridor a door closed. Sebastian waited a mo­ment longer before releasing Prudence. "I think we are safe. It was Larkin. He tiptoed past the bottom of the stairs and never glanced up. Come, let's get you back to your bedchamber. We may not be so lucky the next time."

"This is really very exciting, isn't it, Sebastian?" Prudence allowed herself to be hauled swiftly to the bottom of the stairs. "I do believe I am going to enjoy our partnership immensely."

"I trust you will, my sweet," he muttered. "I, unfortunately, fear my nerves are going to suffer somewhat from the experience."

They reached the door of Prudence's bedchamber without further incident. Prudence could feel Sebastian's sigh of relief. He opened her door.

Prudence heard the squeak of another door down the hall. She hurried into her room and whirled about to make certain Sebastian was not seen by whoever was now traipsing down the busy corridor.

Sebastian was right behind her. He closed the door so softly that it did not make a sound.

"Damnation." He released the doorknob. "That was close."

"Yes, but we are quite safe now." Prudence lit a candle. The flar­ing flame revealed the determined expression on Sebastian's face. She looked at him in surprise. "Is something wrong? I am certain you will be able to return to your own room in a moment or two."

"As it happens," Sebastian said, "there is something I wish to discuss with you." His gaze moved over her with unmistakable posses-siveness. "Now seems as good a time as any." analyze the results of our investigation tonight. We should make notes. Give me a moment and I'll fetch my journal."

"Later." Sebastian's eyes gleamed gold in the candlelight. "What I wish to discuss now is something of a much more personal nature."

"Personal?"

"Yes."

He took two steps toward her and pulled her into his arms. "Very personal."

The soft knock on the door came just as Sebastian covered Pru­dence's mouth with his own.

Qfline

orfWAC>‘bloody hell." Sebastian broke off the kiss and turned his head toward the door. He had never looked more dangerous. "Who, in the name of the devil, thinks he can knock on your bed­chamber door at this hour of the night?"

"I have no notion." She frowned in concern as she saw the cold rage that had flared to life in Sebastian's glittering gaze. "For heaven's sake, calm yourself. It's undoubtedly Lady Pembroke. Perhaps she is in need of assistance."

"Not likely." Sebastian swung around on his heel and started to­ward the door.

Alarmed by his menacing mood, Prudence grabbed for his arm and missed. "Sebastian, wait. You mustn't answer my door."

"You most certainly are not going to respond to that knock."

"Think about what you are doing, my lord." Prudence scurried after him. "This is not a logical, rational approach to the matter."

"You're wrong, Prue. It is a very logical tactic. My approach will be extremely effective in putting an end to future such late-night visits from whoever is out in the hall."

"May I remind you, sir, that it will be exceedingly difficult to break off our engagement if people believe we have been in the habit of sharing a bedchamber. The entire affair is going to be awkward enough as it is."

There was another soft, inquiring knock on the door.

Sebastian slanted Prudence a derisive glance. "My dear, you do not know the meaning of awkward."

Prudence had had enough. "This is nonsense. You are not thinking

"Is that so?" Sebastian had his hand on the doorknob. "And pre­cisely what would you have me do under these circumstances, Miss Merryweather?"

"The practical thing. Get into the wardrobe and stay there while I deal with this."

He gave her a look of total disbelief. Then he jerked open the door.

Prudence was so annoyed with his high-handed behavior that the identity of her late-night visitor did not register for a few seconds. She gasped when she recognized Edward.

Lord Underbrink stood in the hall garbed in slippers and a dark blue dressing gown embroidered with his family crest. He did not immediately notice Sebastian because he was too busy checking the hall to the left to make certain it was still empty.

"Good evening, Underbrink," Sebastian said in a voice that could have frozen hellfire. "For the sake of efficiency, we may as well skip the formalities. Let us go straight to the point. I shall have my seconds call on yours as soon as we return to London."

"What?" Edward jumped a good three inches. His head snapped around and he stared at Sebastian with mounting horror. "Damna­tion. Angelstone, my apologies. I appear to have knocked on the wrong door."

"A brilliant observation. Definitely the wrong door."

"It was all a mistake, I assure you," Edward stuttered.

"A mistake for which you will pay dearly."

"Now, see here," Edward blustered, "you surely don't intend to call me out simply because I knocked on your door."

"This is not my door," Sebastian said.

Edward affected blank confusion. "It's not? But you are standing right there in the doorway. I fear I do not comprehend."

"This is my fiancee's door, Underbrink, and you damn well know it. I do not intend to discuss the matter now, however. I prefer to do so over pistols."

Edward was stricken. "It was an honest mistake, I assure you. I was under the impression this was another lady's door. An older woman. Married for years. Under the circumstances, I'm sure you'll under­stand that I can hardly reveal her name, but it was definitely not Miss Merryweather."

Edward was clearly desperate. "Sir, you cannot mean to challenge me over this."

"That is precisely what I mean to do." Sebastian started to close the door.

Prudence put a restraining hand on Sebastian's arm. "My lord, do stop causing all this commotion." She smiled reassuringly at Edward. "I am certain Lord Underbrink intended no insult."

"None at all." Edward gave Prudence a grateful look. "Wrong door. That's the problem. They all look confoundedly alike in this damn hall."

"Yes, of course." Prudence wondered fleetingly why she had not noticed until now how soft and ineffectual Edward was. "I can see how it would happen. There is certainly a great deal of activity in the hallway this evening, is there not? One wonders how any of the guests will get to sleep."

Sebastian slanted her a warning glance. "Stay out of this, Prue."

"No, I will not," she said calmly. "Do stop trying to frighten Lord Underbrink. He made a mistake and he is very sorry."

"He will be even more sorry by the time I am through with him," Sebastian vowed.

Edward flinched. "My lord, I beg your pardon. I assure you this is all a grave misunderstanding."

"There, you see, Angelstone? Underbrink has apologized." Pru­dence smiled benignly at both men but fixed Sebastian with a deter­mined look. "And you will kindly accept his apology before we attract undue attention."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Edward. "I shall deal with you later, Underbrink."

"Angelstone, you're being extremely unreasonable," Underbrink said frantically.

"Yes, you are, Angelstone." Prudence tugged futilely at his arm. "Now, do stop this nonsense at once." She turned to Edward. "Good night, my lord. You may rest assured that this matter is finished. Angelstone is not going to call you out."

Edward looked uncertain but hopeful. He stepped back and in­clined his head with stiff formality. "Good night, Miss Merryweather. Again, I am very sorry to have disturbed you at this hour."

"Think nothing of it. I seem to be up and about at odd hours with amazing frequency of late." Prudence reached around Sebastian and

-l_. _t____J 4.1__J_____

Sebastian turned on her. He was still seething. "Do not ever dare to interfere like that again. I will not tolerate it."

She eyed him warily, but she did not back down. "You were being unreasonable, my lord. And entirely illogical. Underbrink made a sim­ple mistake."

"The hell he did. He showed up at this particular door at this ungodly hour to see you."

Prudence brushed that aside. "Why on earth would he want to do that?"

"Because he wants you, you naive little ninny. He didn't take you three years ago and now he's wondering what he missed."

Prudence blushed. "Do not be an ass, my lord."

He loomed over her. "I am looking at the facts."

"You know nothing about the situation."

"Your brother told me the entire tale," Sebastian said.

"Did he?" That stopped Prudence for an instant. "Well, I assure you that whatever feeling Lord Underbrink may have had for me three years ago has long since vanished. He married another and that was the end of the matter."

"It would appear not." The glow of the candle cast the planes of Sebastian's face in demonic lines. "At least not on his part. What about you, Prue? How do you feel about him after all this time?"

"I am certainly not in love with him, if that is what concerns you, my lord." Prudence lifted her chin. "Although what business it is of yours, I cannot imagine."

"It is most definitely my business." Sebastian stalked across the room. "Furthermore, you needn't act as if my interest in the matter is unusual or odd. We're engaged, if you will recall."

His cavalier attitude toward their relationship outraged Prudence. "You seem to be the one suffering from memory lapses lately. Or have you forgotten that our engagement is a sham?"

He wrapped one hand around the bedpost and looked at her with hooded, unreadable eyes. "I wish to speak to you about this engage­ment of ours. I have had enough of this foolishness."

Dismay swept through her. "You wish to end it so soon, sir?" She floundered for a logical, rational reason that would forestall the inevi­table. "What about our investigation?"

"Forget the damned investigation. I am beginning to think that if the matter were put to the test, I would finish a poor second to your

intprpct in rnnHür'tino mvf»ctioflrir»ri!C "

"I did not mean to imply that you are not also quite interesting, my lord," she said desperately. "Indeed, I have never met a more decid­edly interesting man. I am quite persuaded your intellect is of the highest order. I have been deeply impressed by your inquiring nature. And by your cleverness with locks."

"Enough." He released the bedpost and came toward her with an air of grim intent.

"Sebastian? What are you about?"

"Why don't you apply your intellect to that question, Miss Mer-ryweather? I'm certain you will very quickly arrive at the answer."

He caught hold of her and swung her up into his arms before she realized what he intended.

"Sebastian."

He tossed her lightly down onto the bed and sprawled on top of her, trapping her beneath his hard body. Prudence took a deep breath. The weight of him was indescribably exciting. She could feel the heat of him right through their combined layers of clothing.

She trembled a little as he carefully removed her spectacles and set them on the night table.

"Just once, Prue," Sebastian said against her throat, "do you think you might concentrate on me instead of on the bloody investigation?"

"I have been concentrating on little else except you for the past several minutes." She clutched at his shoulders and tried to focus on his implacable face. The jeweled fire in his eyes seared her. "What are you doing?"

"I am going to make love to you." He reached down and stripped her slippers off her feet.

"Now? Tonight?"

"Yes. Now. Tonight." He went to work on the buttons of her woolen gown.

A moment later she felt his fingers on the bare skin of her back. A tremor went through her as she realized how quickly he was working to undress her. In another minute or two he would have her bodice down to her waist. A deep, throbbing excitement awoke within her.

"Sebastian?"

"Hush, Prue." He stopped her faint, questioning words with a fierce kiss that effectively robbed her of breath. She moaned and in­stinctively tightened her grasp on his broad shoulders. Sebastian lifted his head to look down at her. "We will talk later." his thigh. The startling intimacy of the action sent a wave of hot and cold chills through Prudence. Memories of the night in Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber crashed through her once more.

With quick, urgent motions, Sebastian finished unfastening her bodice and tugged it downward.

"My sweet, Prue." Sebastian's voice was little more than a ragged whisper. He looked down at her breasts for a moment and then he reverently lowered his head and took one nipple between his teeth.

Prudence swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut against the exqui­site sensations that washed over her. She felt as if she were floating in a warm river, gliding along in a current that was quickly gathering force and speed. Because of what she had learned that night in Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber, Prudence knew that a magnificent waterfall lay ahead of her. She was suddenly impatient to reach it.

She arched herself against Sebastian's stroking hand. He groaned thickly in response.

"This time I am going to be deep inside you when you find your release." Sebastian looked down at her with blazing eyes. "I do not care if all the specters of hell put in an appearance around this bed."

He levered himself slightly away from her and yanked off his shirt, breeches, and boots. When he turned to face her, he was naked.

Prudence gazed at him in startled wonder. She had never seen a man in such a state in her life. The candlelight gleamed on his broad shoulders and highlighted the powerful contours of his hard, lean body.

Even without her spectacles she could see that he was heavily aroused. The size of his jutting staff was disconcerting. She was inex­perienced, but logic told her that a man was little different than the males of other species. She had lived in the country all her life and was well aware of how animals mated.

She knew Sebastian intended to thrust his manhood into her. The notion was strangely exciting, but common sense and logic made her hesitate. He appeared yery large to her inexperienced eyes.

Prudence looked up at him. "I had not realized there would be such a disparity in terms of size between us, my lord."

Sebastian uttered a hoarse sound that was half laugh and half groan. "My sweet, logical Prudence. I have warned you that at times your intellect is something of a problem."

"There is no call to laugh at me," she said, hurt.

delicate skin behind her ear. "I am not laughing at you, Prue. And I assure you that in spite of appearances, we shall fit together with absolute perfection. Leave the logic of the situation in my hands."

She smiled tremulously, more than willing to trust him in that moment. "Very well, Sebastian. If you are certain that you know what you are doing, let us get on with it. I vow I cannot wait much longer to feel what I felt the last time you took me in your arms."

"You are the most incredible woman I have ever known," he whis­pered.

He drew her gown and chemise off entirely and tossed both over the side of the bed. The garments landed in a small heap on the carpet. Sebastian ignored them as he studied Prudence's nude body with an expression rendered stark by desire.

Prudence realized she was still wearing her stockings. For some reason the knowledge made her feel deliriously wicked. She felt her skin grow warm. "My stockings," she mumbled.

"I think we will leave your stockings in place," Sebastian said. "I find I rather like you in them."

"Sebastian, really."

"Yes, really." He slid his hand slowly down the length of her in an act of possession that made her shiver. "You are lovely, Prudence. With or without the stockings."

When his hand reached the triangle of soft hair between her thighs, Prudence cried out softly and turned her face into his chest. Shyness did battle with a growing sensual hunger deep within her. The hunger won. She curled closer against Sebastian, seeking more of his intimate touch.

"Silk and fire," Sebastian muttered against her breast. "That's what you are made of, my sweet. Silk and fire. And I cannot wait any longer to feel the flames."

Sebastian settled himself on top of her. He reached down and parted her thighs. His fingers dipped into her, gently testing. The touch made Prudence dig her nails into his back and lift herself against his hand.

"You like that, don't you?" Sebastian asked.

"You must know that I do." Prudence threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers. She was enthralled, she thought, caught up in a shimmering spell of love and passion that had swept over her like a summer storm.

ing certainty. He must love her just as much as she loved him. He could not make love to her like this unless his feelings for her matched her own for him.

Sebastian accepted the invitation of her mouth with an eagerness that spoke for itself. His tongue surged between her lips, claiming her with an intimacy that foreshadowed what was to follow.

He pressed her thighs more widely apart, making a place for him­self near her heat. Then he reached down between their bodies and fitted himself to the opening of her feminine passage.

The feel of his broad shaft poised to enter her brought Prudence briefly back to a vague sense of reality. "Sebastian?"

"Tell me that you want me, Prue."

She smiled dreamily. "I want you."

"Then all will be well," he whispered.

He thrust forward slowly.

Prudence gasped against his mouth. Her whole body stiffened in reaction to the invasion.

"Open for me," Sebastian urged. He withdrew slightly and then pushed forward again. "Let me inside, my sweet."

Prudence's fingers clenched in his hair as she bravely braced her­self. But Sebastian did not force the entrance. Instead he again with­drew a short distance.

"You are like a lock that must be carefully opened," he said. There was perspiration on his forehead. His shoulders glistened in the can­dlelight.

"I told you this would not work."

"And I told you to trust me. I am very good with locks, if you will recall."

He moved his hand downward, dampened one finger in her mois­ture, and then found the firm little bud that seemed to be the center of her passions.

Prudence began to relax again as he caressed her with his wet finger. The delicious tension coiled within her. Her head tipped back over his arm as she arched herself upward.

"That's it." Sebastian's voice held satisfaction. "Now you will open for me, won't you, my clever little lock? Now you are ready to let me inside."

All Prudence could think about was the excitement his fingers were creating. Soon, she thought, soon she would feel that wonderful

And then the thrilling release was upon her.

"Yes," Sebastian whispered. "The lock is open."

Prudence went wild beneath the onslaught. Her whole body convulsed with pleasure.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Sebastian. Dear God, yes."

He guided himself into her once again and this time he did not hesitate or withdraw. He thrust deeply, relentlessly, into her snug channel.

"Beautiful" he said, his voice a dark, husky groan.

Prudence heard her own soft shriek of surprise muffled against his shoulder. Pain blended with the pleasure that was still rippling through her in tiny waves. She could not distinguish between the two sensations. She lightly bit Sebastian's shoulder.

"My clever, beautiful lock has teeth," Sebastian muttered.

But the small, passionate assault on his shoulder seemed to send him over some invisible edge. He gave a strangled shout and buried himself to the hilt. The muscles in his back were rigid beneath Pru­dence's fingers.

Prudence held him tightly as he shuddered heavily and poured himself into her.

The candle had burned very low before Sebastian finally stirred on top of Prudence. He raised his head and looked down at her. His mouth curved faintly with lazy satisfaction. He leaned down to brush his lips across hers. Then he eased himself out of her and rolled to one side.

"Bloody hell. I've never felt anything that good before in my life." He fell back against the pillows and pulled her down on top of him. "I told you I could open that particular lock."

Prudence blushed. "So you did."

He grinned and touched his finger to the tip of her nose. "It'll get better with practice."

"Are we going to practice a lot, my lord?"

"You may depend upon it." He buried his fingers in her tousled hair and brought her mouth down to his for a quick, hard kiss. "We shall practice at every opportunity. Which brings me to the topic I was attempting to discuss earlier."

"Our false engagement?" A sudden sense of wariness drove out some of Prudence's contentment.

Prudence was vastly more shaken than she would have believed possible. Surely he had some feeling for her, she thought. After expe­riencing the intensity of his lovemaking, she could not believe he felt nothing. He loved her. He had to love her. She tried to keep her voice calm. "I see."

"No, I don't believe you do." Sebastian smiled slightly, but his eyes were watchful. "I want us to be married immediately."

"Married." Prudence was speechless.

Sebastian frowned. He appeared annoyed at her failure to grasp a concept that was apparently quite clear to him.

"Come, now, my dear," he said persuasively. "How else are we to practice our lovemaking? I assure you, it would be extremely difficult to conduct an affair in Town. The other option is to accept every country house party invitation that comes along, and that would be a decided nuisance. We shall be forever on the road."

"Yes, but marriage?" She had not expected this. She stared at him in shock, trying frantically to focus without the aid of her spectacles. "Sebastian, are you serious?"

"I assure you, I have never been more serious in my life."

Joy leaped to life within her. It was instantly tempered with cau­tion. She was well aware that she amused Sebastian. He found her interesting and obviously he felt some degree of passion for her. But thus far he had said nothing about being in love with her. He had not even said the words while in the act of making love to her.

"Do you truly believe we would suit, Sebastian?"

"I can think of no one who would suit me better," he said.

"Yes, well." She cast about for a way of eliciting the answer she wanted. "I am, of course, extremely honored, my lord."

"Good. Then the matter is settled," Sebastian said brusquely. "I shall see about securing a special license in the morning. Lady Pem­broke can be a witness."

Panic seized Prudence. "As I said, I am deeply honored. And I can quite understand that it would be more efficient to conduct an affair within a marriage. But I am not certain that efficiency is a valid reason for such a permanent entanglement."

"There are a number of other logical reasons for a marriage be­tween us," Sebastian said very coolly.

"There are?"

Prudence reached for her spectacles and adjusted them on her nose. "Perhaps you would care to name a few of them?"

He gave her his most arrogant, most superior sort of smile. "As you wish, although I would have thought them obvious. You are a very passionate female, Prue. That is important to me, as I have certain physical desires which need to be addressed from time to time—"

Prudence could not bear to hear their mutual passion described in such a casual manner. "Go on with your list."

"Yes, of course. In addition to a, uh, healthy approach to such matters, we have several mutual intellectual interests."

"That is very true," she admitted.

"In short, you will not bore me, my sweet." He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. "And I shall endeavor not to bore you."

"You could never do that," she said quickly.

"I should also like to point out that living together as man and wife will greatly facilitate our investigations. We shall be able to advise each other and to study each other's methods much more efficiently if we are under the same roof."

"Yes, I can see that." But her sense of uneasiness grew stronger. She sought carefully for the right words. "Nevertheless, do you think mutual interests and a… a certain degree of warmth between us will form a sufficient foundation for marriage?"

He looked surprised at the question. "I cannot think of a better foundation."

"Some might say that love would be a nice addition to the list," she whispered tentatively.

"Love?" His eyes narrowed in disapproval, as if she had not only startled him but also disappointed him. "Come, now, Prue, surely you are not the victim of a romantic nature. I refuse to credit the notion that an intelligent, perceptive, very clever female such as yourself is foolish enough to believe in something as vague and illusory as love."

She swallowed uneasily. "Well—"

"You and I rely on our intellects, not our emotions," he continued ruthlessly. "We unravel mysteries and search for evidence. Our logical brains are not prey to the fevered fancies that excite the likes of Byron and his crowd."

"Granted. Nevertheless—"

"Rest assured, my dear, I have far too much respect for you to allow myself to believe that you actually seek to fall in love before you mature, responsible, intelligent woman such as yourself does not in­dulge in such fancies."

Prudence nearly choked. "Yes, I know, but the thing is, Sebas­tian—"

"After all, there is much less evidence for the existence of love than there is for the existence of spectral phenomena."

"I wouldn't say that, my lord," she argued earnestly. "Love has been the motivating force behind a great many historical occurrences. People commit crimes for love. They are sometimes made ill by it. Surely there is ample evidence to suggest it exists."

"Nonsense. The motivating force you refer to is passion. Or, to be perfectly blunt, lust." He traced the outline of her lips with his finger.

Prudence's spirits sank. "Do you feel some affection for me, Se­bastian?"

"Naturally," he said roughly. "That goes without saying."

"It does?" Affection wasn't love, but one might be able to turn it into love, she told herself optimistically.

"What about you?‘' he asked casually. "Do you feel some degree of affection for me? As distinct from that which you feel toward my hobby, that is?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Yes, definitely. I am really quite fond of you, Sebastian."

"And I am rather fond of you. What more could either of us ask? We are two like-minded people who share mutual intellectual inter­ests and mutual passion. We shall do very well together. Now, then, say that you will marry me as soon as I can make the arrangements."

"Why must we hurry the thing along? Could we not wait and give our mutual affection a chance to mature?" Prudence asked weakly.

"I think that would not only be a waste of time, but also potentially awkward."

"Awkward? How?"

"Surely you know the.answer to that. Use your considerable intelli­gence, Prue. You might very well turn up pregnant after what just transpired between us."

Prudence stared at him as the reality of what he had just said struck her. "Good heavens. I had not thought of that."

"You may be certain I have," Sebastian said flatly. "Having been called a bastard often enough myself, I am not about to have my son

"No, of course not. I quite understand." And she did, Prudence thought.

Sebastian's cold pride and arrogance had caused him to fling the question of his own legitimacy into the very teeth of his family and of society. But that same arrogant pride would make him equally deter­mined that no child of his carried the stigma.

Sebastian looked at her from beneath half-lowered lashes. "Well, then, Prue? Do we have another bargain? Will you marry me?"

Prudence took a deep breath and thrust aside her doubts and hesitations. The risk she was about to take was worth it, she assured herself. She was going to marry the man she loved.

"I will marry you, Sebastian."

Something that might have been relief flared in his eyes. But his voice remained cool and even slightly amused, as usual. "An emi­nently logical, rational decision, my sweet. I expected no less from you, of course."

"Of course," Prudence muttered. But inside she shivered with hope and dread.

A frightening sense of foreboding wrapped itself around her. She knew that if she was wrong about Sebastian's feelings for her, she had just bargained away her entire future and perhaps her very soul to the Fallen Angel.

Cy en

«J"^ ‘t-^Sour days later Gatrick confronted Sebastian in his fa­vorite club. "So, Angelstone, how is married life?"

Sebastian glanced up from the copy of the Morning Post that he was perusing. He fixed Garrick with a baleful look.

"I have learned a great deal about wives during the past few days," Sebastian said. "You may be interested to know, for instance, that even the most intelligent among them is not always logical in her thinking."

Garrick put down his cup of coffee and grinned. "Squabbling with your lady already? For shame, Angelstone. One would think that at this stage you would still be making an effort to present your best side to Lady Angelstone. Time enough to let her see the real you later."

Sebastian swore softly as he recalled the small but lively scene that had ensued that morning when he had announced over breakfast that • he intended to spend the day visiting tobacconists. Flowers had just finished pouring their tea and had left them alone.

Prudence's lovely eyes had shone with enthusiasm behind her spectacles. "You are going to try to identify the person for whom that special mixture of snuff is blended?"

"Yes." Sebastian sliced into a plump sausage. "Now that the busi­ness of our wedding is settled and we have got you moved in here with me, I believe we can at last get on with our investigation."

Her gaze turned curiously opaque. "Poor Sebastian," she mur­mured. "You had no notion of the commotion our wedding would cause, did you? I expect you thought you could simply put an an­nouncement in the papers and that would be the end of it." weddings which I had not anticipated," he said, "but I am hopeful that the worst is behind us."

In truth, they had not had any peace since their return to London, Sebastian thought, vastly annoyed. He had fully intended to spend the majority of his free time during the past four days in bed with his new wife. The polite world deemed otherwise. To his disgust, he had dis­covered that weddings—even quiet, uncomplicated ones—generated a great deal of fuss and attention.

On the morning of the wedding Hester had cheerfully reminded him that the marriage was bound to create a sensation among the ton. She had been accurate in her prediction. There had been a steady stream of visitors to Sebastian's town house. A new mountain of cards and invitations arrived every morning. The presence of Lord and Lady Angelstone was requested at every soiree and ball in Town.

Sebastian had been strongly inclined to ignore every visitor and all the invitations. But Prudence had put her dainty foot down on that notion. His reputation for ill-mannered behavior was bad enough, she had explained. She was not going to see it savaged any further simply because he could not be bothered with a few social niceties.

"Do you regret our marriage, then?" Prudence had inquired in a suspiciously neutral voice from the far end of the breakfast table.

"What an idiotic question. Of course not. We are perfectly suited, as I have gone to great lengths to explain." He eyed her warily, won­dering what had made her ask such a question. The possibility that she, herself, had a few regrets made him once more aware of the cold place inside himself.

He did not see how she could doubt for a moment that she be­longed with him. She looked right at home sitting there at the other end of the breakfast table. The morning sun streamed through the window behind her. It turned her hair the color of the warm honey that was in the little pot next to the toast. A shaft of lazy desire went through Sebastian as he remembered how Prudence's hair had looked earlier when it was fanned out across the white pillows of his bed.

"I shall accompany you to interview the tobacconists," Prudence announced.

"No, you will not." He forked up another bite of sausage. "I intend to make as much progress as possible today. There is no way of know­ing how many shops I shall be required to visit."

I brows snapped together in a straight line across the rim of her specta-■ cles. "I would remind you that we are supposed to be a team, sir."

Sebastian knew it was time to tread warily. He was rapidly learning the business of being a husband, he thought wryly.

"You misunderstand me, my dear." He smiled benignly. "The fact of the matter is that if the pair of us are seen visiting a series of I tobacconists, someone might notice and think it odd. Questions might I be asked."

"Perhaps I could disguise myself as a footman or a groom. No one would question my presence if I looked like a member of your house­hold staff, would they?"

"My entire household staff would certainly wonder about it," Se-I bastian said brusquely. "Not to mention anyone else who might's chance to recognize you." The thought of Prudence traipsing about in I men's attire sent a wave of outrage through him.

Prudence frowned in thought. "I think it would work very well, my i‘ lord. I believe that after breakfast I shall just nip downstairs and see I what I can find in the way of livery."

At that point Sebastian abandoned strategy and diplomacy and fell | back on ruthless threats.

"If you try that trick, madam, I promise you I will find myself I unable to accompany you to the Arlington ball tonight."

"Sebastian, you wouldn't." Acute dismay filled her eyes. "You I must put in an appearance tonight. I am told that several members of I your family will be there, including your aunt and your cousin Jer-I emy."

"As far as I'm concerned, that is an excellent reason for not put-I ting in an appearance. In any event, I wouldn't be surprised to learn I that Lady Arlington has deliberately planned her damned ball with i the express purpose of producing a scene for the ton."

"Come, now, Sebastian, that is highly unlikely. She is trying to be polite."

"My dear, you may be very intelligent, but you are amazingly naive I at times."

"Lady Arlington's ball will be the first occasion on which the mem-I bers of your family will all be gathered together in public. If you don't turn up, the Fleetwoods will be humiliated in front of the ton."

He was thoroughly amused. "Do you think that matters to me?"

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134 Amanda Quick

well that if you fail to show up tonight it will add fuel to the notion that there is a feud within your family."

"The feud is very real, Prue." Sebastian put down his knife and folded his arms on the table. "And you would be well advised to remember just which side you are on. Furthermore, it would be most unwise of you to try to play peacemaker. I want no part of the Fleet-woods, and that's final."

"Really, Sebastian."

"Yes, really." Having taken his stand, Sebastian knew better than to back down. Prudence would spot any weakness in his defenses in an instant. "Now, then, if you wish me to put in an appearance at the Arlington ball, you had best forget any notion of dressing up in a footman's livery."

"Now, see here, Angelstone, just because we happen to be mar­ried, you must not get the idea that you can start giving orders and making threats in the manner of ordinary husbands."

He gave her a cool, quizzical smile. "You do not consider me an ordinary husband?"

"Certainly not." She refolded her napkin and set it beside her plate with an air of grave precision. "Our alliance is supposed to be a partnership. Two like-minded individuals joined together by the bonds of mutual interests, if you will recall."

"I recall the terms of our bargain very well." Sebastian got to his feet.

Prudence watched warily as he walked toward her. "Sebastian?"

Sebastian said nothing. When he reached the far end of the table he leaned down and kissed Prudence full on her surprised mouth. She tasted delicious. He had a sudden urge to make love to her right there on the breakfast table. The only thing that stopped him was the real­ization that Flowers could enter the room at any moment.

"As you said, ours is an alliance based on mutual interests." He brushed his mouth across hers again and felt her tremble in response. "And some of our mutual interests were particularly stimulating last night. I look forward to more of the same tonight."

She glowered at him suspiciously through her spectacles. "Do not think that you can manipulate me with… with that sort of thing, Angelstone."

"What sort of thing would that be? This, perhaps?" He nibbled her earlobe and let his hand drift down over the modest fichu that

"You know precisely what I mean, sir."

"Do I?" He palmed her breast and was well satisfied by the re­sponse he got. Prudence's cheeks turned pink and a delightfully flus­tered look replaced the wifely chastisement in her eyes.

"Be off with you," she muttered. "And do not forget the Arlington ball tonight or I shall never forgive you."

Sebastian now smiled faintly at the memory of the morning and poured himself another cup of coffee from the pot he and Garrick were sharing.

As he sipped his coffee, he contemplated the thought of Prudence seated opposite him at breakfast every morning for the rest of their lives and wondered how he had ever gotten along without her there.

Garrick scanned the advertisements in the paper he was reading. "Thought I'd take myself off to Tattersall's after a bit and see what they're offering. I could use a good hunter." He looked up. "What will you be about today?"

"I have some business to attend to."

"Ah, I recognize that tone in your voice." Garrick grinned briefly. "It is the one you use when you are in the process of conducting one of your little investigations. Pray do not tell me that you are so bored with married life already that you must seek out your old amuse­ments."

"I assure you, married life is anything but dull. But I have not given up my hobby."

"I see." Garrick eyed him curiously. "Does your lady know what you do to entertain yourself?"

"She knows."

"And approves?"

"She has no complaints," Sebastian said.

Garrick chuckled. "I congratulate you, Angelstone. I do believe you have married the one woman in all of England who is capable of understanding you."

"I am certain of it."

The only thing that worried Sebastian was that Prudence might not be as well satisfied with married life as he was.

He told himself that the matter was settled. Prudence belonged to him now. He had claimed her under the law and in the privacy of the marriage bed. And she had given herself to him with a willing passion that should have reassured him.

istfulness that made him uneasy. He could not forget her words that ight at Curling Castle. Some might say that love would be a nice addi-on to the list.

For all her intellect and her admirable powers of logic, Prudence ‘as a woman. Sebastian suspected that she had a woman's romantic ttitude toward marriage. She had wanted to marry for love.

He was well aware that he had deliberately coerced Prudence into hasty wedding. He had done so using all the weapons at his com-land. He had justified the ruthless tactics by telling himself that she ‘ould be happy with him.

She was old enough and intelligent enough to realize that what-ver emotion she had felt for Underbrink was fleeting and insubstan-ial. In any event, the pompous ass had betrayed her affections. She ould never trust Underbrink again. Surely she knew that.

it four o'clock that afternoon a portion of Sebastian's brain was till pondering the unexpected dilemmas posed by marriage. But a ood deal of his attention was now focused on a more immediate roblem.

Thus far he had visited nearly half a dozen tobacconists in a fruit-;ss search to find one who could identify the blend of snuff in the mall snuffbox Prudence had discovered in the black chamber.

It had seemed a relatively simple task when he had set out on his lission. But thus far no one recognized the blend.

He went up the steps of one R. H. Goodwright, tobacconist, with-ut much hope. Goodwright was number six on Sebastian's list.

Sebastian glanced at the life-size wooden carving of a Highlander tiat guarded the shop entrance. The statue's dress was painted in the olors of a famous regiment. The popular symbol of the snuff dealer's rade was similar to the five other wooden Highlanders Sebastian had lready seen that afternoon.

If he did not have any luck here, Sebastian decided, he would have a seek out less successful establishments in less fashionable streets, le had been working on the assumption that whoever had lost the nuffbox had been a member of the ton and therefore shopped in the etter establishments. Sebastian could not envision Curling inviting nyone to Curling Castle who did not move in fashionable circles.

Sebastian opened the door and walked into the small shop. The roma of the well-aged tobacco stored in glass cases and in wooden counter. On another counter a selection of small snuffboxes was ar­ranged. Sebastian took a closer look at them but saw none as fine as the one he was investigating.

"How may I serve you, sir?" inquired a raspy voice.

Sebastian looked around and saw a plump, white-haired, heavily whiskered man wearing a green apron and a pair of gold spectacles. The shopkeeper's pudgy fingers were stained yellow from years of handling tobacco.

"I'm trying to discover the name of this particular blend of snuff." Sebastian plucked the snuffbox out of the pocket of his greatcoat and held it out to the shopkeeper. "An acquaintance gave me enough to fill this box, but I shall soon run out and would like to order more. It's quite distinctive. Do you happen to recognize it?"

The shopkeeper examined Sebastian's gleaming boots and ele­gantly tailored clothes as he opened the box. He sniffed cautiously at the snuff, careful not to inhale it. "I certainly do recognize it, my lord. I created this blend myself."

The familiar thrill of discovery flashed through Sebastian. Until Prudence had entered his life, he reflected, he had been forced to rely on these rare moments of fleeting excitement to keep the cold at bay.

Sebastian schooled his features to a mask of polite interest. "It seems I am in luck, then. I suppose it is a popular blend?"

"Might be if I sold it to all and sundry, but the gentleman I make it up for has stipulated that he be the only one who gets it. He makes it worth my while to keep the blend special for him."

"It's not for sale to the general public, then?" Sebastian frowned with what he hoped passed for disappointment. His luck was holding, he thought. He would not have to investigate a long list of snuff pur­chasers. All he needed was the name of the one who had commis­sioned this special mixture for himself.

"Afraid not." The snuff dealer eyed him with a shopkeeper's as­sessing look. He was obviously reluctant to lose the trade. "Mayhap I can blend a speciaj batch for you, m'lord. Something with a bit of Turkish in it, perhaps? Just got a nice shipment of fine tobacco from America. Very mild, it is. I can do you a most distinctive blend that will be the envy of your friends."

"That's very kind of you, but I very much wanted a supply of this particular blend. I am prepared to pay well for it."

The snuff dealer sighed with regret. "I cannot risk offending my

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"Your client?" Sebastian prompted carefully.

"Mr. Fleetwood would be only too likely to take his patronage sewhere if I didn't honor my agreement with him."

Sebastian stared at the dealer, hoping his mouth wasn't hanging sen in astonishment. "Fleetwood?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Jeremy Fleetwood." The snuff dealer frowned. "You ust know him, sir, if he gave you a sample of his snuff."

"We met in passing at a boxing match," Sebastian said, thinking riftly. "Afraid I didn't catch his name. You know how the crowd is at mill."

"Right you are, sir. Attended an interesting match just last week, rowd nearly rioted when Iron Jones lost. He was the favorite, you low. Lost a packet on him, m'self."

"I heard the outcome of the match was extremely disappointing," ;bastian said as he walked toward the door. "Thank you for Mr. leetwood's name. I shall look him up at once. Perhaps I can prevail jon him to allow you to make up a supply of this blend for me."

"But, sir, if I might suggest another blend—"

Sebastian closed the shop door and walked the short distance to here his groom waited with the phaeton.

What in the name of hell did Jeremy have to do with any of this? ;bastian wondered as he vaulted up onto the seat and took the reins.

Prudence was going to be as startled by this bit of information as i was. He was suddenly impatient to discuss the new twist in the case ith her.

What do you mean, she's not here, Flowers? Where the devil is le?" Sebastian had hurried straight home in order to share with rudence the details of the singular new development in the investiga-on. It was extremely irritating to learn that she was not waiting ea-jrly to applaud his brilliance.

"I believe Lady Angelstone has gone out, my lord."

Sebastian made a bid for his fraying patience. "Where did she go, lowers?"

Flowers gave a small, discreet cough. "To the home of the Misses ingleton in Wellwood Street, sir."

"Who the devil are the Misses Singleton?"

"Lady Angelstone described them as clients." Flowers looked

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They apparently wished to consult with her ladyship about a matter of spectral phenomena. Her ladyship set out almost immediately."

"So she's pursuing an investigation, is she?"

Flowers gave him a woeful look. "Something was said about an electricity machine, my lord."

Sebastian frowned. "Electricity machine?"

"I have reason to believe her ladyship has borrowed one from a Mr. Matthew Hornsby and intends to use it in the course of her inves­tigation today."

Sebastian was momentarily distracted from his own case. "That might prove interesting."

Flowers drew himself up. "I would like to inquire, my lord, whether staff should accustom itself to this sort of behavior on the part of her ladyship?"

"Yes, Flowers, I think you had all better get used to the notion that this will never be a completely normal household."

"You say the strange moaning sounds seem to come from this section of the garret?" Prudence pushed the electricity machine into place in the center of the small dark room directly beneath the roof of the narrow house.

"I think that is about right." Evangeline Singleton, a stout, forth­right woman of indeterminate years, frowned thoughtfully. She turned to her sister for confirmation. "Don't you think that is about right, Iphigenia?"

"I suppose so," Iphigenia, small, frail, and fluttery, eyed the elec­tricity machine with deep dread. "I hear the sounds downstairs in my bedchamber, so they must be coming from somewhere around here. But I really do not know if we should be attempting to find the ghost, Evangeline."

"We cannot allow the thing to continue moaning at all hours of the night," Evangeline said. "You need your rest." She turned back to Prudence. "Now, then, Lady Angelstone, how is this machine going to force our ghost to appear?"

"According to my new theory," Prudence said, "spectral phenom­ena utilize electricity in the atmosphere in order to render themselves visible. I believe that the chief reason they are only rarely seen is because it is uncommon for them to have access to sufficient electric­ity."

Iphigenia's eyes widened in alarm. "You intend to provide our ghost with the electricity it needs to make itself visible?"

"Precisely." Prudence straightened and surveyed the machine she had borrowed from Trevor's friend, Matthew Hornsby.

It was a simple arrangement involving a glass cylinder, a hand crank, a leather pad, and a jar. Matthew had assured her there was no danger involved in the operation of the machine.

"I beg your pardon, Lady Angelstone, but does your husband ap­prove of you carrying out these investigations?" Iphigenia asked cau­tiously.

"Oh, yes." Prudence bustled around the machine, making certain everything was ready. "Angelstone has a very intellectual nature. He is quite interested in my work."

"I see." Iphigenia gave her a strange glance. "One hears that Angelstone is a rather unusual man."

"I suppose he is." Prudence tested the hand crank. It turned easily. The glass cylinder started to rotate beneath the leather pad. "I cer­tainly do not know any other man quite like him."

Iphigenia traded a silent glance with her sister. "One hears that he is somewhat dangerous."

"Not in the least." The cylinder began to rotate faster as Prudence worked the crank. "Would one of you put out the lamp? I doubt we shall be able to see anything if there is too much light."

"Lady Angelstone," Iphigenia began uneasily, "I really do not think this is such a good idea. There are no windows up here and it will be quite dark if we put out the lamp."

"Really, Iphigenia, you must not be so timid." Evangeline went briskly over to the lamp and turned it off.

The room was plunged into complete darkness.

"Excellent," Prudence said. "If there is a ghost up here we shall make him visible in no time." She cranked the handle of the electricity machine as rapidly as possible.

"But I do not actually want to see the thing," Iphigenia whim­pered. "I just want you to get rid of it."

"Get hold of yourself," Evangeline ordered crisply. "Lady Angel­stone knows what she is about, don't you, madam?"

"Certainly," Prudence called above the noise of the whirling cylin­der. "I have great confidence in my latest theory. We should produce sufficient electricity for a ghost very soon now." suited another sort of expert, Evangeline. This whole experience is unsettling my nerves."

"You can take a dose of laudanum when it is over," Evangeline said. "Now do stop fussing. You might scare off the ghost."

Prudence turned the crank faster and faster. "Creating electricity is a bit more difficult than I had thought it would be," she said breath­lessly.

Light flashed suddenly in a white-hot arc that illuminated the room for a few brief seconds. Prudence heard Iphigenia's horrified gasp.

"Dear heavens, Evangeline, we've raised the devil himself."

"What in the world?" Prudence looked around just in time to see Sebastian's face rendered in harsh, demonic relief by the brilliant spark of electricity. His golden eyes burned in the glare of the unnatu­ral light.

An instant later he was gone.

Iphigenia moaned weakly as the room was once more enveloped in complete darkness.

"My goodness." Evangeline's voice shook. "What on earth was that, Lady Angelstone?"

Prudence scowled into the gloom. "Angelstone? Is that you?"

"Sorry, my dear." There was a scratching noise and then a candle flared. Sebastian smiled faintly. "Didn't mean to interrupt your inves­tigation. The housekeeper said you were all up here, so I decided to join you."

"Good lord," Evangeline said, sounding extremely relieved. "You gave me quite a start, sir. I do belieye my sister has fainted."

"Oh, dear." Prudence glanced down and saw Iphigenia lying on the floor. "So she has. Angelstone, next time you decide to observe my investigation techniques, kindly announce yourself in the proper fash­ion."

"Forgive me, my dear," he said humbly. "I was trying to be unob­trusive."

"You are not the unobtrusive sort, my lord. Look what you did to my client. You have quite terrified her out of her wits." Prudence sighed. "I suppose we shall have to start all over again now."

"It was Lucifer himself. I saw him." Iphigenia's eyelashes fluttered but did not open. "No more. I beg of you, Lady Angelstone. Please stop the investigation."

Prudence frowned. "But we were iust eettine started."

"Quite right," Evangeline said as she held a vinaigrette bottle un­der her sister's nose. "We cannot stop now. But perhaps it would be best if Angelstone did not participate in the investigation. No offense, your lordship. It's just that my sister's nerves are easily overset."

"I'm afraid she's right." Prudence looked at Sebastian. "I think you had better leave, sir. I cannot have you alarming my clients."

Sebastian frowned. "I wished to speak with you, Prue."

"Later, my lord." She shooed him out of the garret with a sweep­ing movement of her hands. "As you can see, I am quite busy at the moment. Run along, if you please."

Sebastian's jaw tightened. "Very well, madam. I shall see you later."

"Yes, yes, of course." Prudence turned back to the electricity ma­chine and started to work the crank. "Good-bye, my lord."

Sebastian disappeared through the door by which he had entered a few minutes earlier.

Evangeline stared after him. "I do not believe it."

"What don't you believe, Miss Singleton?" Prudence took a deep breath and bore down on her task. She could feel perspiration gather­ing between her shoulder blades.

"That you just told Angelstone to run along. And he did so."

"Serves him right." Prudence cranked harder. "He did not allow me to assist him today."

"I see." Evangeline gave her an odd look. "It would seem that you do, indeed, have a talent for dealing with spectral phenomena, madam. You appear to be able to banish the devil himself."

By the time Sebastian stalked into Lady Arlington's ballroom in search of Prudence, he was not in a good mood. He heard the ripple of anticipation that went through the crowded room as he walked through it and his temper did not improve. The ton was hoping for a scene tonight. He was in just the right frame of mind to provide one.

He located Prudence from halfway across the glittering room. She was the center of a cluster of people and she glanced up as he forged a path in her direction. The lenses of her spectacles glittered cheerfully in the light of the chandeliers. Her smile was more brilliant than all the massed candles overhead.

She was wearing a demure muslin gown that was a weak shade of blue. The neckline was cut far higher than that of any other lady's in he was concerned, Prudence's unfashionable clothes served very nicely to veil her from the eyes of other men. Only he knew how soft and graceful her breasts were. Only he knew how her nipples responded to his touch. Only he knew how she arched beneath his mouth, how she clung to him.

Sebastian stifled a groan as he realized he was growing hard and heavy right there in the middle of the ballroom.

He wondered ruefully what had happened to the well-honed self-control that he had taken for granted for years. He realized that he had begun to lose his iron grip on his passions the night that Prudence had leaped from the wardrobe to save him from Thornbridge's pistol. Sebastian knew of no one else who would have gone out of his or her way to save his neck.

He had almost reached Prudence's side when he glimpsed Jeremy out of the corner of his eye. He paused and watched as his cousin left the crowded room to go out onto the terrace. Jeremy was alone. Now was as good a time as any to confront him.

Sebastian abruptly changed direction to pursue Jeremy. When he reached the open doors he glanced outside and saw his cousin stand­ing near a low stone wall. As Sebastian watched, Jeremy withdrew a small snuffbox and flipped open the lid with an elegant flick of his finger. He had obviously been practicing the gesture.

Sebastian took the snuffbox he had found at Curling Castle out of his pocket and started forward.

"Allow me to offer you a special blend, cousin." Sebastian held the box out to Jeremy.

"What? Oh, it's you, Angelstone." Jeremy did not immediately look at the snuffbox in Sebastian's gloved hand. Instead he surveyed him without any enthusiasm. "Surprised to see you here tonight, though Mother said she thought you would show. Said you would seize the opportunity to demonstrate your contempt for the rest of us."

"Seizing such opportunities requires more energy than I wish to exert this evening. Do you recognize this snuffbox?"

Jeremy glanced at the box and frowned. "Since when did you take up the habit?"

"I have not taken it up." Sebastian flipped open the lid. "I am told this mixture is unique. Blended expressly for one particular person."

"What the devil are vou on about?" Jeremv took a closer look at the box. "Damnation, Angelstone, that's my snuffbox. Where did you get it?"

"It came my way not long ago. When and where did you lose it?"

Jeremy picked up the snuffbox. "I do not recall precisely. I noticed it was missing after I returned from a house party at Curling Castle. Why do you ask?"

"I found it at Curling Castle."

Jeremy shrugged. "That explains it, then. But how did you know it was mine?"

"I made inquiries."

"I see." Jeremy stared at him, perplexed. "But why did you go to the effort of tracking down the owner? The box is rather nice, but it's not all that valuable."

"I was very curious about the owner of that box," Sebastian said softly, "because I found it in a most unusual chamber on the top floor of Curling Castle. A room done entirely in black."

"Black?"

"A month ago a man named Ringcross fell to his death from that particular chamber. You may recall hearing of the incident?"

Jeremy gazed at him, dumbfounded. "Ringcross's fall occurred the weekend I attended one of Curling's house parties. What is this about, Angelstone?"

"Nothing, at the moment." Sebastian studied him intently. "I merely find the coincidence interesting."

"What coincidence?" Jeremy demanded. "The fact that you found my snuffbox in the chamber where Ringcross died? Well, I find it interesting that I only have your word that you discovered the snuff­box there."

"Do you think I am lying about the matter?"

"I think you are quite capable of it if it suited your own ends." Jeremy pocketed the snuffbox. "But I vow I cannot conceive of why you would want to invent such a tale. For your information, I never visited the top floor of the castle. I never saw this black chamber you describe."

"Are you certain of that?"

"Yes, damn it, I am very certain." Jeremy's face was tight with anger. "Why in blazes are you trying to connect me to that chamber?"

"I am not trying to connect you to it. The snuffbox does that all by itself." Sebastian turned on his heel and started back into the ball­room.

"Hold on a moment, Angelstone," Jeremy called after him. "What devil's game are you playing now? I demand to know what you think you are doing."

Sebastian paused on the threshold of the French doors and glanced back at Jeremy. "As it happens, I am about to ask my wife to dance the waltz with me."

Prudence appeared in the doorway before Jeremy could react. Her smile was as bright as it had been earlier, but her eyes held specula­tion and concern. "I see you are getting some fresh air, Mr. Fleet-wood. Lovely night, is it not?"

"A fine night, madam," Jeremy said stiffly.

"Yes, it is. A bit chilly, however. And I believe we shall have more fog before morning." She turned to Sebastian. "They are playing a waltz, Angelstone. I have been searching all over for you. No less than a dozen people informed me that you had arrived, but when you did not seek me out, I thought perhaps you were unable to locate me in the crowd."

Sebastian smiled slightly as he took her arm and led her out onto the floor. "Never fear, Prue. I will always find you, regardless of where you go or how well hidden you may be."

She wrinkled her nose at him as he swung her into the dance. "That sounds more like a threat than a promise."

"Yes, I suppose it does."

"Honestly, Sebastian, sometimes you are impossible."

"I know, my dear, but you seem to be able to deal with me. How did your investigation conclude this afternoon?"

"It was very disappointing, if you must know," Prudence said. "I could not produce a single ghost with the electricity machine. I am beginning to wonder if there is a flaw in my new theory."

"Perhaps there was no ghost to be found in that particular garret."

"Probably not. I discovered a scarf in the room that belonged to one of the housemaids. When I interviewed her she admitted that she has been meeting one of the footmen up in the garret late at night. I believe they are the source of the moaning sounds Miss Singleton heard."

"Another blow for logic and reason."

"I suppose so, but hardly an interesting solution to the puzzle." She eyed him closely. "What was going on out there on the terrace between you and your cousin? I do hope you were not causing trou­ble."

"I am crushed by your lack of faith in my social tact."

"Hah."

"I have been wanting to speak to you for the past several hours," Sebastian said.

"Have you?"

"I tracked down the owner of the snuffbox."

Prudence brightened. "That is wonderful, my lord. How very clever of you."

"Thank you." Sebastian could not keep the trace of smugness out of his voice.

"I am delighted to hear the news and I cannot wait to learn the details, but what has that got to do with Mr. Fleetwood?"

"The snuffbox belongs to Jeremy."

Prudence stared at him. "Sebastian, are you serious?"

"Very." Sebastian watched his cousin reenter the ballroom and move quickly through the throng. Jeremy's face was grim as he headed toward the door. His stride was that of a tense, angry man.

"Good heavens," Prudence whispered in dismay as she followed his gaze. "Jeremy looks upset."

"Yes."

"Oh, dear. The word will be all over Town tomorrow that you and he have quarreled."

Sebastian shrugged. "A quarrel between Jeremy and me will not be news, Prue. The only thing that would interest the gossips would be rumors that he and I had engaged in a friendly conversation."

"Did you?" she asked, looking extremely hopeful.

"No," Sebastian said. "We did not."