Dangerous

Chapter Four

Four days later on the night of the Thornbridge ball,

Prudence decided she had had enough. She was thoroughly annoyed with Sebastian and she let him know it the moment he sought her out in the crowd.

"My lord, you are making a laughingstock out of my brother."

Sebastian, dark and predatory-looking in his black and white eve­ning clothes, managed to make every other man in the room look like a fop. He seemed unsurprised and unmoved by Prudence's accusation. His mouth curved in the familiar humorless smile.

"At least he is a live laughingstock rather than a dead one," he said. "Isn't that what you wanted, Miss Merryweather?"

She glowered at him through her spectacles. He was being deliber­ately difficult. "No, it is not what I wanted. Not precisely, that is."

Sebastian's brow rose inquiringly. "You would rather I had ac­cepted one or two of the numerous challenges I have received from him in the past few days?"

"Certainly not. You know perfectly well that the last thing I wanted was a duel between the two of you. That was the very thing that I wished to avoid."

"You have gotten your wish." Sebastian's amber eyes gleamed. "I have kept my end of the bargain. Why are you berating me, Miss Merryweather?"

Prudence felt herself turning pink at the reminder of the deal they had struck in his library. "You know perfectly well I expected you to handle this entire matter in a more subtle manner, my lord. I did not think you would turn it into a joke."

The realization of exactly how Sebastian was dealing with her brother's outrage had finally come to Prudence earlier that afternoon. Hester, torn between amusement and affection for Trevor, had out­lined the latest gossip to Prudence only a few hours ago.

"It is common knowledge that Trevor is issuing a challenge every time he learns that Angelstone had talked to you or danced with you," Hester had explained over tea.

"Oh, no." Prudence had gazed at her friend in shock. "Why on earth can't Trevor learn to keep his mouth closed?"

Hester had shrugged. "He's very young, my dear. And quite deter­mined to protect you. In any event, Angelstone has made a game of the entire affair. He promptly sends a flowery apology each time Trevor calls him out."

"And Trevor accepts it?"

"There is nothing else the boy can do. Angelstone's reputation is not harmed in the least because no one would dream of suspecting him of cowardice. His reputation is far too formidable. There isn't a soul who believes he is actually afraid to meet Trevor."

Prudence had brightened slightly. "I suppose everyone realizes Angelstone is showing compassion and a mature nature by refusing to meet my brother."

"Not quite, my dear," Hester had said. "The assumption is that Angelstone is refraining from putting a bullet in poor Trevor because he is reluctant to cause you distress."

"I don't understand."

Hester sighed. "It's perfectly obvious, Prue. Everyone believes Angelstone is indulging you for the moment because they believe you are marked as the Fallen Angel's next victim."

"Nonsense." But Prudence had been acutely conscious of the shock of excitement that had shimmered through her. It was madness to entertain the notion that Angelstone might have anything other than an amused, intellectual interest in her. Nevertheless, she could not put the memory of his kiss out of her head.

Tonight she was determined to confront him on the subject of the way in which he was treating Trevor. She intended to be quite firm.

Sebastian now contemplated Prudence's resolute expression. "If you will recall the terms of our bargain, Miss Merryweather, you will remember that you did not specify exactly how I was to avoid future duels with your brother."

"It did not occur to me that Trevor would make a fool of himself by continuing to challenge you. He was so anxious after he called you out the first time that I assumed he would be grateful to have escaped unscathed. I hoped that he would take pains to avoid a future encoun­ter."

"Forgive me for saying so, Miss Merryweather, but I fear you don't know much about the workings of the male brain."

"Not about the workings of the immature male brain," she said. "I'll grant you that much. And it seems to me, sir, that your approach to dealing with my brother is no more mature than his is in dealing with you. I won't have you amusing yourself at my brother's expense."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. And while we're on the subject, I would also like to inform you that I will not allow you to amuse yourself with me, either." She felt herself turn pink, but she held her ground. "Just in case you have taken a notion to do so."

"How will you stop me?" Sebastian asked with grave interest.

"If need be, I shall put a stop to this nonsense once and for all by declining your invitations to dance." She lifted her chin in challenge. "Perhaps I shall cease speaking to you altogether."

"Come, now, Miss Merryweather. Don't make threats you will be unable to carry .out. You know that you would soon be as bored as I am at these affairs if you were to cut me dead."

"I'm certain I could find one or two other interesting people with whom I would enjoy conversing," she said. But her words were spoken out of sheer bravado and she suspected he knew it.

It was Sebastian who made the endless round of soirees and balls bearable. It had gotten to the point where Prudence actually looked forward to going out in the evenings now because she knew he would turn up at one or more of the parties she was attending.

Sebastian's eyes glittered with a knowing expression. He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. "Look around you, Miss Merryweather. There is no one else here tonight who shares your interests. No one else with whom you can discuss techniques of inves­tigation. As far as the ton is concerned, you are merely a new and quaintly amusing toy."

She searched his face. "I rather suspect that is all I am to you, too, my lord."

Sebastian swept her into the waltz. "Unlike many others here to­night, I know how to take care of my toys. I do not take pleasure in breaking them and then discarding them."

Prudence caught her breath. "What is that supposed to mean, sir?"

"It means you are safe enough with me, Prue," he said softly. "And so is your annoying young pup of a brother."

Not knowing how to take the first part of that vow, Prudence seized on the latter. "Then you will cease tormenting Trevor?"

"Never fear. Sooner or later he'll figure out that when I want something, I do not let anything get in my way. Eventually he will desist. Now, then, I have been thinking about our last conversation and I have another question for you."

Prudence eyed him uncertainly. "What is that?"

"You said you found the Pembroke jewels beneath a wooden floor­board while looking for signs of spectral phenomena. I doubt that you tore up every board in the house looking for a ghost."

"No, of course not," she agreed.

"Then how did you know which boards to remove?"

"Oh, that was easy, my lord," she said. "I rapped."

"Rapped?"

Prudence chuckled. "With a cane. The legend of the Pembroke jewels was connected to the Pembroke ghost, you see. I knew that if I could find the jewels, I might be able to prove or disprove the tales of the ghost."

"So you went looking for the jewels in hopes of finding the ghost. Naturally you reasoned that the jewels, if they were still hidden some­where in the house, would have to be in a concealed safe of some sort."

"And a safe hidden in the floorboards or the walls would likely produce a hollow sound when I rapped on the wood above it," Pru­dence concluded happily.

"Very logical." There was genuine admiration in Sebastian's gaze.

"I went through the entire house with a stout cane and rapped on every wall and every floor. When I discovered a place that sounded hollow, I instructed that the boards be removed. The jewels were hidden in a secret opening beneath one of them. Lady Pembroke's grandfather had forgotten to pass the secret of his hiding place down to his descendants, so the jewels had been lost."

"Very clever." Sebastian looked down at her with cool approval. "I'm impressed."

Prudence's flush deepened at the praise. "I am happy for Lady

Pembroke, of course, but I must admit it was rather disappointing not to find some evidence of spectral phenomena."

Sebastian's smile was ironic. "I'm certain Lady Pembroke would far rather have the jewels than the Pembroke ghost."

"That's what she says."

"How did you become interested in such an unusual hobby?" Se­bastian asked.

"The influence of my parents, I suppose." Prudence smiled remi-niscently. "They were both devoted to the subject of natural philoso­phy. My father studied meteorological phenomena. My mother made extensive observations on the species of animals and birds that lived in the vicinity of our farm."

Sebastian watched her intently. "And they taught you how to make observations?"

"Yes. And how to conduct a logical investigation to discover the answer to a question. They were very expert at that sort of thing." Prudence smiled proudly. "Both of them had papers published in the journals of several important scientific societies."

"My father had portions of some of his journals published," Sebas­tian said slowly.

"Really? What sort of studies did he carry out?"

"He kept extensive records of his travels and explorations. Many of them were of interest to scientific societies."

"How exciting." Prudence was fascinated. "I collect you were al­lowed to accompany him on his travels?"

Sebastian smiled briefly. "When I was growing up my father took all of us—my mother, myself, and my little brother—with him nearly everywhere he went. Mother had the knack of being able to make a home in the middle of a desert or on an island in the South Seas."

"What happened when you grew older?"

"My mother and brother continued to travel with my father. But I went off on my own. I looked for interesting investment opportunities in foreign ports. I did some observations of terrain for the military during the war. That sort of thing."

"I envy you the sights you must have seen and things you must have learned," Prudence said.

"It's true that I learned a great deal about the world." Sebastian's eyes were as hard, brilliant, and cold as faceted gems. "But the price of my education was too high."

"I don't understand," Prudence whispered.

"Four years ago my parents and my brother were killed by a great fall of rock while they were traveling through a mountain pass in a godforsaken corner of the East called Saragstan."

Prudence came to a halt on the dance floor. "How terrible for you, my lord. I know how you must have felt. I remember all too well my feelings at the moment I received word my parents had been killed in the carriage accident."

Sebastian did not seem to hear her. His gaze was turned inward as he led her off the floor. Prudence sensed that he was focusing on some distant landscape that only he could see. He came to a halt near the French doors and stood looking out into the night.

"I was to meet up with them in a small town at the foot of the mountains. I had business dealings there. The local weavers produce a very fine cloth which I purchase and have shipped to England and America. My parents and my brother never arrived."

"I am so very sorry, my lord." Prudence sought for words of com­fort. "Such tragic accidents are very difficult to endure."

Sebastian veiled his eyes briefly with his long, dark lashes. When he raised them again and glanced sideways at Prudence she knew he was once more in the present. "You misunderstand. My parents and my brother did not die in an accident."

Prudence stared at him. "What are you saying?"

"The fall of rock which killed them was deliberately caused by bandits who preyed upon travelers in the mountains. I did not know that the bandits were a problem in the region when I sent word to my father to meet me in that damned town."

"Dear God." Prudence's eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. "Surely you do not blame yourself, my lord?"

"I don't know." He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and continued to gaze out into the darkness. "The fact is they would all be alive today if I had not asked them to join me there in Sarag­stan."

She touched his sleeve. "You must not assume the responsibility for what happened. You did not destroy your family. The bandits did that. Were they ever caught and punished?"

"Yes." Sebastian looked down at her. "They were punished." His mouth curved in his chilling smile. "Now, Miss Merryweather, I sug­gest we change the subject. I would rather not discuss such unpleasant matters with you."

"I quite understand, my lord," Prudence said seriously. "I do not think it is a good thing to dwell too much on the past. It is the present and the future that are important. Don't you agree?"

"I have no idea." Sebastian acted as though the question bored him. "I'll leave such philosophical decisions up to you."

The devil was up to mischief tonight. Prudence was certain of it an hour later when Sebastian took his leave of her and started toward the door.

During the past few days she had come to feel that she had gotten to know this enigmatic man quite well. There was a sense of recogni­tion deep inside her. She did not fully understand it, but she knew it was there.

She thought she could see past the cool facade he showed to the world. She believed she could even read the small signs that indicated the subtle changes in his dark moods.

Tonight, Prudence decided, there was an air of keen alertness about him, a sense of barely suppressed anticipation like that of a predator on the hunt. It worried her. Sebastian had been in the same strange mood for the past three nights.

She watched him make his way through the glittering room. He would soon be lost from sight in the throng of guests that filled the Thornbridge house.

This was not the first time this week that she had watched him quietly disappear from a crowded ballroom. He had vanished from three different ballrooms last night, two others the previous night, and two more the night before that. On each occasion he had reappeared a short while later acting as if he had never been gone. No one but Prudence seemed to have noticed. After all, the rooms were so crowded that it was nothing to lose sight of a person for a while.

But Prudence was very aware of Sebastian's presence whenever he was around and she sensed his disappearances instantly.

Anyone who noted his progress tonight would assume he was leav­ing. It was past midnight, after all, and Sebastian had already spent more than an hour at the Thornbridge ball. The earl was well known for his propensity to become easily bored.

Prudence had begun to suspect that Sebastian's restless nature had led him to amuse himself in some rather unfortunate ways. She knew he liked puzzles and she could not forget that he had shown a keen interest in her search for the Pembroke jewels. Indeed, his questions about her investigation had been extremely specific in nature.

Prudence put the two facts together and came to the uneasy con­clusion that Sebastian might have developed a penchant for opening closed doors and prowling through locked safes in crowded houses merely because it amused him to do so. Perhaps he enjoyed the thrill of discovering hidden jewels even though he was richer than most of his hosts.

Sebastian surely wouldn't steal whatever valuables he chanced to find, Prudence assured herself. But he might very well revel in the dangerous business of searching for them.

The game he was playing involved far too much risk. He needed to be stopped before he got himself into trouble.

She took a last swallow of her punch and put down her glass with a firm resolve. Tonight she was going to find out just what sort of unholy business the Fallen Angel was engaging in when he disappeared from a crowded ball. When she discovered the exact nature of his amuse­ments, she was going to give him a stern lecture. Boredom was not an excuse for engaging in mischief.

It was a simple task to slip through the crowd in Sebastian's wake. The people who noticed her nodded pleasantly, no doubt assuming she was on her way upstairs to one of the withdrawing rooms provided for the ladies.

Prudence smiled and chatted briefly with one or two of Hester's acquaintances, all the while edging toward the hall where Sebastian had vanished.

Several minutes later she found herself alone in an empty corridor. She glanced quickly around, picked up her mustard-colored muslin skirts, and hurried toward the back stairs.

When she reached the staircase, she paused again to check that none of the household staff was in the vicinity. None of the Thorn-bridges' handsomely liveried servants were in sight. At this hour they would all be occupied in the kitchens or circulating through the crowds with trays of punch and champagne.

Prudence gazed uneasily up into the darkness at the top of the stairs. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking Sebastian had come this way. She'd only had that last brief glimpse of him disappearing down this hall.

She started up the stairs, her soft dancing slippers silent on the wooden treads. When she reached the second floor, she hesitated again, trying to get her bearings. Two hall sconces were lit, but for the most part this section of the mansion was in shadow.

A small sighing sound from the far end of the darkened hall caught Prudence's attention. Someone had just closed a bedchamber door very quietly.

She went down the carpeted corridor until she reached the door. As she stood gazing at it, uncertain of her next move, a thin line of candlelight appeared at the bottom. Someone was inside.

Prudence's fingers trembled as she gripped the doorknob. If she was wrong in thinking Sebastian had entered the bedchamber, her next move could prove extremely embarrassing. She readied two or three logical excuses as she cautiously opened the door.

The glow of light she had seen a moment earlier disappeared in­stantly as she stepped into the room. The chamber was in complete darkness.

Prudence stood in the doorway for a few seconds, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of light. When she could just make out the bulky shape of a huge, canopied bed, she closed the door gently behind her.

"Sebastian?" she whispered. "Where are you? I know you're in here."

There was an almost soundless movement behind her. A man's hand clamped over her mouth. Prudence froze in fright as she found herself pinned against a large, hard body. Then she started to struggle furiously. Her teeth sank into the palm that covered her mouth.

"Bloody hell," Sebastian muttered in her ear. "I should have known it would be you. Give me your word you won't raise your voice above a whisper and I'll let you go. Nod your head if you understand."

Prudence nodded frantically. Sebastian released her, gripped her by the shoulders, and spun her around to face him. She could see almost nothing of his features in the darkness, but the tone of his voice and the manner in which his fingers dug into her shoulders told her he was furious.

"What the devil do you think you're doing up here?" he asked.

"Following you."

"You little fool." He gave her a small, exasperated shake. "Do you think this is some sort of game?"

Prudence braced herself. "No, but you apparently do. What is all this sneaking about, sir? You're clearly up to some mischief. You should be ashamed of yourself. What sort of behavior is this for a man of your background and title?"

"Just what I needed. A lecture on my behavior."

Too late, Prudence had a sudden, dreadful thought, one she had

Prudence put the two facts together and came to the uneasy con­clusion that Sebastian might have developed a penchant for opening closed doors and prowling through locked safes in crowded houses merely because it amused him to do so. Perhaps he enjoyed the thrill of discovering hidden jewels even though he was richer than most of his hosts.

Sebastian surely wouldn't steal whatever valuables he chanced to find, Prudence assured herself. But he might very well revel in the dangerous business of searching for them.

The game he was playing involved far too much risk. He needed to be stopped before he got himself into trouble.

She took a last swallow of her punch and put down her glass with a firm resolve. Tonight she was going to find out just what sort of unholy business the Fallen Angel was engaging in when he disappeared from a crowded ball. When she discovered the exact nature of his amuse­ments, she was going to give him a stern lecture. Boredom was not an excuse for engaging in mischief.

It was a simple task to slip through the crowd in Sebastian's wake. The people who noticed her nodded pleasantly, no doubt assuming she was on her way upstairs to one of the withdrawing rooms provided for the ladies.

Prudence smiled and chatted briefly with one or two of Hester's acquaintances, all the while edging toward the hall where Sebastian had vanished.

Several minutes later she found herself alone in an empty corridor. She glanced quickly around, picked up her mustard-colored muslin skirts, and hurried toward the back stairs.

When she reached the staircase, she paused again to check that none of the household staff was in the vicinity. None of the Thorn-bridges' handsomely liveried servants were in sight. At this hour they would all be occupied in the kitchens or circulating through the crowds with trays of punch and champagne.

Prudence gazed uneasily up into the darkness at the top of the stairs. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking Sebastian had come this way. She'd only had that last brief glimpse of him disappearing down this hall.

She started up the stairs, her soft dancing slippers silent on the wooden treads. When she reached the second floor, she hesitated again, trying to get her bearings. Two hall sconces were lit, but for the most part this section of the mansion was in shadow.

A small sighing sound from the far end of the darkened hall caught Prudence's attention. Someone had just closed a bedchamber door very quietly.

She went down the carpeted corridor until she reached the door. As she stood gazing at it, uncertain of her next move, a thin line of candlelight appeared at the bottom. Someone was inside.

Prudence's fingers trembled as she gripped the doorknob. If she was wrong in thinking Sebastian had entered the bedchamber, her next move could prove extremely embarrassing. She readied two or three logical excuses as she cautiously opened the door.

The glow of light she had seen a moment earlier disappeared in­stantly as she stepped into the room. The chamber was in complete darkness.

Prudence stood in the doorway for a few seconds, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of light. When she could just make out the bulky shape of a huge, canopied bed, she closed the door gently behind her.

"Sebastian?" she whispered. "Where are you? I know you're in here."

There was an almost soundless movement behind her. A man's hand clamped over her mouth. Prudence froze in fright as she found herself pinned against a large, hard body. Then she started to struggle furiously. Her teeth sank into the palm that covered her mouth.

"Bloody hell," Sebastian muttered in her ear. "I should have known it would be you. Give me your word you won't raise your voice above a whisper and I'll let you go. Nod your head if you understand."

Prudence nodded frantically. Sebastian released her, gripped her by the shoulders, and spun her around to face him. She could see almost nothing of his features in the darkness, but the tone of his voice and the manner in which his fingers dug into her shoulders told her he was furious.

"What the devil do you think you're doing up here?" he asked.

"Following you."

"You little fool." He gave her a small, exasperated shake. "Do you think this is some sort o'f game?"

Prudence braced herself. "No, but you apparently do. What is all this sneaking about, sir? You're clearly up to some mischief. You should be ashamed of yourself. What sort of behavior is this for a man of your background and title?"

"Just what I needed. A lecture on my behavior."

Too late, Prudence had a sudden, dreadful thought, one she had not previously considered. It very nearly robbed her of her breath. "You're not planning to meet someone up here, by any chance, my lord?"

"No, I am damn well not planning to meet someone. I've got business up here, if you must know."

Prudence wondered at the sense of relief that shot through her. "What sort of business?"

"It involves a necklace, not that it's any of your concern."

"I was afraid of that." Prudence wished she could see his face more clearly. "Sir, I refuse to believe that you have resorted to steal­ing necklaces in order to amuse yourself. You cannot have grown that bored with life in Town."

"Damn it, I am no thief." He sounded genuinely affronted.

"Of course not. I didn't think so. But you are a man who enjoys puzzles, aren't you? Tell me precisely what you're doing in this bed­chamber."

"I told you, I was looking for a necklace. I'm not going to stand here explaining myself to you, however. We've got to get out of here before someone comes along. There's no telling how many people saw you come up here."

"No one saw me," she assured him.

"How would you know? You're hardly an expert at this sort of thing."

"And you are?"

"I've had a bit more experience at it than you." He grasped her arm and started to open the door. The squeak of a floorboard out in the hall stopped him. "Damnation."

"What is it?" Prudence whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's coming down the hall. We can't go out there now."

"What if he comes in here?"

"Then there will be hell to pay. And it will be all your fault, Prue. A fact which I will not soon forget." Sebastian tugged her across the room toward the massive mahogany wardrobe.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to get you out of sight." He opened one of the ward­robe doors. "Get inside. Hurry."

"Angelstone, wait. I don't think this is such a good idea. There are so many clothes in here. Women's clothes. Good lord, this must be Lady Thornbridge's bedchamber."

"Get in there. Now, for God's sake." He seized her around the waist as if she were a sack of potatoes and tossed her into the ward­robe.

"Good heavens." Prudence nearly suffocated amid a pile of expen­sive silks, satins, and muslins. She flailed about wildly, trying to regain her balance.

"Move over," Sebastian muttered. His hands cupped her derriere as he attempted to shove her farther into the depths of the wardrobe.

"There's no room." Intensely aware of his hands on her bottom, Prudence pushed frantically at the clothing in an effort to shift some of it aside. But the wardrobe was stuffed with expensive garments. "Why don't you hide under the bed?"

"Hell. Maybe you're right." Sebastian released her and backed out of the wardrobe.

He closed the mahogany door, leaving Prudence in tomblike dark­ness. At that instant the bedchamber door was flung open with a resounding crash.

Prudence did not need Lord Thornbridge's outraged roar to know that Sebastian had not had a chance to get beneath the big bed.

"Angelstone. You? Why, you blackhearted son of a bitch, I never thought to find you here, man. I was certain't‘was someone else she would be meeting tonight. Devil take it, I thought… I believed… that is to say, I was told… How dare you, sir?"

"Good evening, Thornbridge." Sebastian's voice was amazingly cool. Incredibly, it was even laced with his customary cynical amuse­ment. He sounded as if he had just encountered Thornbridge in his club rather than in Lady Thornbridge's bedchamber.

"I'll see you dead and in hell for this, Angelstone. Don't think I won't."

"Calm yourself, Thornbridge. I am not here for an assignation with your lady."

"What other reason could you possibly have for being here in her bedchamber? Don't you think I know she's disappeared from the ball­room? She's on her way up here to meet you, isn't she?"

"No."

"Don't try to deny it, you bastard," Thornbridge raged. "You're here to seduce my wife. Right here in my own house, by God. Have you no shame at all, man? No sense of decency or honor?"

"I have no notion of the whereabouts of Lady Thornbridge, sir. But I can assure you, I have no intention of meeting up with her here. See for yourself, she's nowhere in the vicinity."

"I suppose you've got a reasonable explanation for being in her bedchamber?" Thornbridge asked in disbelief.

"I was looking for the new water closet I'd heard you'd had in­stalled."

"Do not think to fob me off with that banbury tale." Thornbridge was clearly infuriated. "The water closet is under the back staircase, exactly where it is in most respectable houses."

"My mistake, sir," Sebastian said politely. "I evidently got some­what disoriented when I left the ballroom. I could have sworn one of the servants said it was on this floor. I believe I may have had a bit too much of your excellent champagne tonight, Thornbridge."

"You're not going to get away with this, Angelstone." Thorn-bridge's voice shook with the intensity of his emotion. "I don't care how good a marksman you are."

"If you're going to call me out, Thornbridge, I suggest you save your breath. In case you haven't heard, I've given up that sort of thing."

"You think I'll accept one of your mocking apologies?" Thorn-bridge's voice rose to a high, desperate pitch. "I'm not some stupid country squire to be taunted the way you're taunting young Mer-ryweather."

"Thornbridge, listen to me for a minute. I can explain everything."

"I don't give a damn about your explanations. And you can save yourself the trouble of having your seconds convey your apologies. I have no intention of meeting you on the field of honor."

"Then what do you intend to do?" Sebastian asked quietly.

"What do you think I'm going to do? I am going to put a bullet in you right here and now, you bloody devil. Right where it will do the most good. You may bid farewell to your ballocks, sir. They will be of little use to you after tonight. We'll see how well you rut with other men's wives in future."

"For God's sake," Sebastian said. "Put the pistol down, man. I swear I have no designs on your lady wife. My attentions are directed elsewhere these days."

Prudence froze. She realized from the way the conversation was going that Thornbridge had a pistol. He was working himself up into a state that would enable him to pull the trigger.

"Don't expect me to believe you're genuinely interested in the Merryweather chit," Thornbridge stormed. "You're hardly the type to be amused for long by an oddity such as her. You're using that poor young woman, aren't you?"

"Thornbridge, will you kindly listen to me for a moment?"

"You're making a show of courting her, but what you're really doing is using her to distract attention while you pursue your true goal. You're using the Merryweather female as a blind while you dally with my wife."

"I have no interest in Lady Thornbridge," Sebastian said. He sounded as if he had abruptly lost his patience. "I give you my word, Thornbridge, I am not here in this bedchamber to await your wife."

"There's no other possible explanation," Thornbridge declared. "She's so beautiful. God knows that every man who looks at her desires her. You think you can just take what you want, don't you, Angelstone? Bloody damn arrogant bastard."

"Thornbridge, I urge you to try to contain yourself. You're losing control."

Prudence knew she dared not wait another minute. It was obvious Sebastian was not going to be able to talk Thornbridge out of his rage. It was time to repay the debt that she owed to the Fallen Angel.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the wardrobe door.

"I beg your pardon, my lords," Prudence said crisply as the door swung open. "I believe it's time we put an end to this foolishness before someone gets hurt."

"What the devil?" Thornbridge swung toward her. In the light of the candle he had brought with him she could see the shock on his heavily jowled face. The pistol in his fist wavered precariously. "Miss Merryweather, by heaven. What are you doing here?"

"You must forgive Miss Merryweather, Thornbridge." Sebastian took a single step forward and deftly removed the pistol from Thorn-bridge's fingers. "She is still fresh from the country and has not yet learned the fine art of making a well-timed entrance."

Thornbridge ignored him. His astonished gaze was fixed on Pru­dence. His anger was rapidly turning to confusion. "What is going on here?"

Prudence blushed under the accusing stare, but she gave the baf­fled man a reassuring smile. "Isn't it obvious, my lord? Angelstone and I sought out a private place in which to discuss certain matters involving spectral phenomena and I fear we wandered in here by mis­take."

"Spectral phenomena?" Thornbridge looked more mystified than ever. He also began to look doubtful.

Sebastian quirked a brow. "She has also not yet learned to tell a social lie. Not that there are many tales that could explain our pres­ence in here. I believe we shall have to go with the truth on this occasion."

Thornbridge glowered at him. "The truth being that you brought this innocent young woman up here to seduce her. Isn't that correct, Angelstone?"

"Not precisely," Sebastian said.

"He had no such intentions," Prudence said briskly.

Thornbridge continued to scowl at Sebastian. "You should be ashamed of yourself, sir."

"You're not the first one to point that out to me tonight."

"My lord, you don't understand." Prudence jumped down from the wardrobe. "Angelstone did not bring me up here with the intention of seducing me."

Thornbridge gave her a pitying look. "My poor dear Miss Mer-ryweather. This business will well nigh break Lady Pembroke's kind heart. You are so pathetically naive."

Sebastian folded his arms and leaned against the wardrobe. He gazed meditatively at Prudence. "Naive is not quite the right word for Miss Merryweather. Harebrained might be a better one. Reckless. Ungovernable. Imprudent. Yes, I can think of a variety of terms that suit Miss Merryweather far better than naive."

She pushed her spectacles higher on her nose and glared at him. "That is unfair, my lord. I am attempting to explain this extremely upsetting situation to Lord Thornbridge. He has every right to know how we come to be in his wife's bedroom."

"By all means," Sebastian replied, his golden eyes brilliant with devilish laughter. "Explain it to him."

Annoyance flared in her as she realized he was not going to help her out at all. Damn the man, he was amusing himself again, this time at her expense. Considering the fact that they were in this situation because of his actions and that she was merely attempting to save his wretched neck, the least he could do was assist her in the task. Pru­dence turned back to Thornbridge.

"The thing is, my lord, this is all a terrible misunderstanding," she said earnestly.

Thornbridge cut her off with a flick of his hand. Now that he was no longer obliged to play the outraged husband, he had apparently decided to assume another role, that of the outraged host. He drew himself up and gave Sebastian a narrow-eyed look.

"Do not trouble yourself, Miss Merryweather. The facts speak for themselves. You are alone up here in a bedchamber with one of the most notorious men of the ton. No further explanations are neces­sary."

Prudence hesitated as she began to sense the new direction in which this was all going. She cautiously cleared her throat. "Sir, I believe you are under a very serious misapprehension."

Thornbridge paid her no heed. He was still glowering self-righ-teously at Sebastian. "Well, sir? Do you intend to do the proper thing by this young woman?"

Still standing with one shoulder propped against the wardrobe, Sebastian inclined his head with mocking gallantry. "As it happens, Thornbridge, Miss Merryweather and I are in this bedchamber be­cause we were seeking some privacy in which to discuss our future. I have decided it is time I married. For her part, Miss Merryweather has wisely concluded that she is not likely to get a better offer due to her advanced years. We have therefore reached an agreement."

"Angelstone," Prudence got out in a strangled voice.

Sebastian did not even hesitate. "Allow me to present my fiancee, sir. Miss Merryweather and I are engaged."