"Much store she'll set by that," Samuel stated. " 'Ave you seen 'er take off 'is funny way of wrinklin' 'is nose?"

"I have. Where's Peg?"

"Sittin' by the kitchen fire with 'er feet in a mustard bath, eatin' gingerbread," Samuel informed him. "lazy little devil, she is."

"She's entitled," Hugo said. "At least until she's had the baby. Then we'll see what's to be done with her."

"I expect the lass 'as some notion."

"I wish she'd come up with a plan for that damn bear," Hugo said grimly. "It's growing like a weed."

The sounds of laughter came from beyond the front door, and Samuel pulled it open.

"Oh, thank you, Samuel." Chloe walked in, her eyes

bright with amusement, her cheeks pinkened with cold. She was followed by three young men, also laughing.

Hugo looked in vain for some female chaperoning presence… one of her escort's sisters or at the very least a maid. But his ward had a lamentable habit of dispensing with such niceties. For some reason she seemed to avoid censure by all but the highest sticklers for behavior that in anyone else would be considered fast. But he'd seen her charm the severest matrons with the sweet smile and soft voice that she knew how to use to advantage. A crafty little fox was Miss Gresham.

"Hugo, you're acquainted with Lord Bentham and Sir Frank Manton?" Chloe was saying, drawing off her gloves. "But I don't know if you know Denis DeLacy. He's only recently come to town."

Hugo felt the ground shift beneath his feet. The young man was the spitting image of his father, Brian DeLacy. Brian, a close friend of Stephen Gresham's, had been a chief player in the crypt. Brian had witnessed his friend's death.

"I believe you knew my father, Sir Hugo," Denis was saying, offering a frank smile. "He died two years ago, but I seem to remember his mentioning your name."

It could be perfectly innocent. They had been friends of a kind, members of the same social set. But what if Brian had told his son that Hugo had been a member of the Congregation? Did this young man know the story of Stephen Gresham's death?

Hugo forced himself to smile and shake the man's hand. He murmured some platitude while his thoughts tumbled in his head. They were all sworn to secrecy over the duel… a secrecy that surely encompassed a man's son. But supposing Brian had broken his oath?

"I hadn't seen your father for many years," he said. "The war curtailed many friendships."

"I came back to fetch Dante," Chloe informed him

cheerfully, for once too intent on her own plans to notice Hugo's abstraction. "We're going to take him for a walk in Green Park."

"Did you leave your female companion outside the door?" Hugo queried, raising his eyebrows. "How very impolite, Chloe."

There was an awkward silence, then young Lord Ben-tham said, "Fact is, sir, m'sister was to have accompanied us, but she developed a scratchy throat this morning, and it wasn't thought wise for her to go out in the cold."

"No, I quite understand that," Hugo said. "And I'm sure you'll understand if I ask you to excuse us for a few moments while I have a little talk with my ward."

Without waiting for a response, he swept Chloe into the library and closed the door on her three escorts.

"You're going to be stuffy," Chloe stated.

"It won't do," he said firmly. "I'm sorry, I know you think it ridiculous, and so to a certain extent do I, but you may not racket around the town in the company of a gaggle of young men. Why don't you persuade one of your girlfriends to join you?"

"It's not so amusing," Chloe said with disarming candor.

Hugo was betrayed into a half-smile. He guessed that after ten years in the unrelieved company of her own sex, his ward was finding the devoted attentions of the male thoroughly diverting.

"So I may go?" she said, seeing his expression soften and drawing the wrong conclusion.

"No, you may not."

"Dante needs the exercise," she tried with a hopeful smile.

"Then you'll have to endure my dull company, lass."

"You aren't dull," she said. "But…"

"But I'm not three young men making sheeps' eyes at

you." He shook his head. "Go and give your swains their tickets of leave and then come back. There's something I have to discuss with you."

Disappointed but resigned, Chloe did as she was told and came back to the library.

"How would you like to be a duchess?" Hugo asked.

"Not at all," she replied promptly. "Alresford?"

He nodded. "Consider for a minute, Chloe. Apart from the title, he's young, good-looking, rich. Alresford Castle is one of the stateliest homes in the land. The mansion in Berkeley Square-"

"But I don't want to marry him." Chloe interrupted the catalogue of her suitor's virtues with the simple statement.

Hugo sighed. "And you don't want to marry Viscount Bartlett, or Charles Knightley, or the Earl of Ridgefield."

"No," Chloe agreed.

"I don't think you realize, lass, that when you have practically every eligible bachelor in the ton at your feet, you have an obligation to accept one of their offers."

"I don't see why."

"Because that's the way Society works," he said, losing patience. "You insisted on having a come-out so you could find a suitable husband, and now you reject anyone who has the temerity to offer for you. What do you want'"

You. Chloe shook her head. "I'll know when I find it."

Hugo massaged his temples. "And in the meantime, you risk ruining your reputation with hoydenish excursions in the company of lads who have more money than sense."

"At least they don't pester me to marry them," she said. "They're not interested in marrying yet. And I'm enjoying myself. You told me I was to do so."

"Don't chop logic with me, young Chloe. These un-chaperoned expeditions have got to stop."

"But you can't expect Lady Smallwood to accompany me. She couldn't possibly keep up."

"I expect you to engage in the kind of activities at which your chaperone can keep up," he declared. "I am very serious, Chloe."

"Oh, very well," she said. "May I go now? They're waiting for me in the drawing room. We're going to play charades, since we mayn't go out."

Hugo waved her away, shaking his head in defeat. At least a game of charades, however rowdy, could be supervised by his cousin.

But what of Denis DeLacy? The latest recruit to the ever-widening circle of admirers.

Taking his hat and cane, he left the house, walking briskly as he mulled over the situation. If DeLacy knew of the duel, then it was conceivable that he would tell Chloe. But why should he? There was no reason he should bear Hugo any grudge and nothing to be gained by such a revelation. He must have been a child of four or five at the time of Stephen's death.

But what if he did tell Chloe?

Hugo walked faster down Bond Street. It was unthinkable that Chloe should hear from a stranger the story of her father's death at the hands of her guardian… her lover. He had her absolute trust, and he would lose that-how could he help but lose it'

So should he tell her himself? Forestall any possibility of her hearing it from someone else? But he couldn't endure the thought of laying bare such a story. He would have to tell her of the crypt… of the hideous ugliness of his early life. He couldn't possibly sully her innocence with such a tale.

So how great was the danger she might hear it from someone else?.

Jasper might tell her. Yes, he could imagine Jasper taking great pleasure in sowing such dissension and de-

straying all trust between his young sister and the guardian he resented so deeply. But he could outma-neuver Jasper. There was no way Chloe was going to have anything to do with either her brother or his stepson.

Frowning, Hugo decided that a few well-placed questions should give him some idea of what young DeLacy knew. If he felt there was any danger, then he'd have to remove Chloe from the young man's orbit.