"Thank you." Harry waited.

"Miss Ballinger does not seem your type at all. I fear she has inherited the family inclination toward recklessness and mischief. 'Twill be an odd match, if you don't mind my saying so."

"But I do. Mind, that is." Harry smiled coldly. "I also object to your dancing the waltz with my fiancée."

Lovejoy's expression was one of malicious expectation. "Miss Ballinger is rather fond of the waltz. She tells me she finds me a skilled partner."

Harry went back to contemplating the fire. "It would be best for all concerned if you found someone else to impress with your dancing skills."

"And if I do not?" Lovejoy taunted softly.

Harry sighed deeply as he got up from his chair. "If you do not, then you will oblige me to take other measures to protect my fiancée from your attentions."

"Do you really believe you can do that?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I believe I can. And I will." He picked up his unfinished brandy and swallowed what was left in the glass. Then, without a word, he turned and walked toward the door.

So much for rash statements about not getting into duels over women, Harry thought ruefully. He knew he had just come very close to issuing a challenge a moment ago. If Lovejoy did not take a hint, it might very well come to something irritatingly melodramatic such as pistols at dawn.

Harry shook his head. He had only been engaged for two days and already Augusta was having an extremely unsettling effect on his quiet, orderly existence. It certainly made one wonder what life was going to be like after he married the woman.

Augusta sat curled in the blue armchair near the library window and frowned down at the novel in her lap. She had been attempting to read the page in front of her for at least five minutes. But every time she got halfway through the first paragraph she lost her concentration and had to start over again.

It was impossible to think about any subject other than Harry lately. She could not believe the swift, headlong rush of events that had led her to the situation in which she found herself.

Above all, she could not understand her own reaction to those events. From the moments she had found herself on the floor of Harry's library, swept away by her first taste of passion, she had been going about in a dazed state of mind.

Every time she closed her eyes, she relived the excitement of Harry's kiss. The heat of his mouth still seared her. The memory of his shockingly intimate touch still had the power to make her weak.

And Harry was still insisting on marriage.

When the door opened she looked up with relief.

"There you are, Augusta. I have been looking for you." Claudia smiled as she came into the room. "What are you reading? Another novel, I suppose?"

"The Antiquary." Augusta closed the book. "Very entertaining, with lots of adventure and a lost heir and plenty of narrow escapes."

"Oh, yes. The new Waverley novel. I should have known. Still trying to work out the identity of the author?"

"It must be Walter Scott. I am absolutely convinced of it."

"And so are any number of other people, apparently. I vow the fact that the author is keeping his identity a secret is probably contributing greatly to the sale of his books."

"I do not think so. They are vastly enjoyable stories. They sell for the same reason Byron's epic poems sell. They are fun to read. One cannot resist turning the pages to see what happens next."

Claudia gave her a gently reproving look. "Do you not think that, as you are now an engaged woman, you ought to be reading something a bit more elevating in nature? Perhaps one of Mother's books would be more suited to a lady who is about to become the wife of a serious-minded, well-educated man. You will not want to embarrass the earl with uninformed conversation."

"If you ask me, Graystone could do with a bit of uninformed conversation," Augusta muttered. "The man is too straitlaced by half. Do you know he actually told me I should not dance the waltz with Lovejoy?"

"Did he really?" Claudia sat down across from her cousin and poured herself a cup of tea from the pot on the end table.

"Practically ordered me not to do so."

Claudia considered that. "Perhaps that is not such bad advice. Lovejoy is very dashing, I'll grant you that much, but one cannot help but believe he might not be above taking advantage of a lady who allowed him too many liberties."

Augusta raised her eyes toward heaven and prayed for patience. "Lovejoy is perfectly manageable and very much a gentleman." She bit her lip. "Claudia, would you mind very much if I asked you a delicate question? I would like a little advice concerning the proprieties and, frankly, I cannot think of anyone who could give me more accurate information on that sort of thing than you."

Claudia straightened her already rigid spine and looked gravely attentive. "I shall try to guide you as best I can, Augusta. What is troubling you?"

Augusta abruptly wished she had not started this. But it was too late now. She plunged into the matter that had disturbed her sleep so badly after last night's ball. "Do you think 'tis true that a gentleman has the right to feel certain promises are made or implied by a lady simply because she allows him to kiss her?"

Claudia frowned, considering the matter closely. "Obviously a lady should not allow anyone except her fiance or her husband to take such liberties. Mother made that very clear in her Instructions on Behavior and Deportment for Young Ladies."

"Yes, I know," Augusta said, growing impatient. "But let us be realistic about this. It happens. People do steal the occasional kiss out in the garden. We all know that. And as long as they are discreet about it nobody feels they have to announce an engagement afterward."

"We are speaking hypothetically, I assume?" Claudia said with a sudden, sharp glance.

"Absolutely." Augusta waved a hand airily. "The issue arose during a discussion with some, uh, friends of mine at Pompeia's and we are all trying to form a proper conclusion as to what is expected of the woman in such a situation."

"It would no doubt be best if you refrained from being drawn into that sort of discussion, Augusta."

Augusta ground her teeth. "No doubt. But do you have an answer to the question?"

"Well, I suppose one could say that allowing a man to kiss one is an example of deplorable behavior but not precisely beyond the pale, if you see what I mean. One could wish the lady had a nicer notion of propriety, but one would not condemn her completely for a stolen kiss. At least, I would not do so."

"Yes, that is exactly my feeling on the matter," Augusta said eagerly. "And certainly the gentleman involved has no right to think the lady in question had promised to marry him merely because he was such a cad as to steal a kiss."

"Well…"

"Lord knows, I have wandered out into the garden during a ball and seen any number of gentlemen and ladies embracing. And they did not all rush back into the ballroom and announce their engagements."

Claudia nodded slowly. "No, I do not think it would be fair of a gentleman to think the lady had made a firm commitment merely on account of a kiss being exchanged."

Augusta smiled, pleased and relieved. "Not fair in the least. Just what I concluded, Claudia. I am so glad you agree with me."

"Of course," Claudia continued thoughtfully, "if there were a bit more than a kiss involved, that would put an entirely different light on the matter."

Augusta felt suddenly sick. "It would?"

"Yes, definitely." Claudia took a sip of tea as she pondered the nuances of the hypothetical situation. "Most definitely. If the lady in question responded to such behavior on the part of the gentleman with any degree of warmth at all—that is, if she allowed further intimacies, for example, or encouraged him in any way…"