"Yes?" Augusta prompted, dreading the direction in which this was going.

"Then I think that it would be quite fair of the gentleman in question to assume the lady did indeed return his affections. He would have every reason to believe she was plighting her troth by such actions."

"I see." Augusta stared glumly down at the novel in her lap. Her mind was suddenly filled with visions of herself lying in disgraceful abandon in Graystone's arms on the floor of his library. She could feel the heat in her own cheeks and could only pray her cousin would not notice and remark upon it. "What if the gentleman had been a bit too warm in his advances?" she finally ventured cautiously. "What if he had more or less coaxed her into allowing intimacies she had not initially even considered allowing?"

"A lady is responsible for her own reputation," Claudia said with a lofty certainty that reminded Augusta a great deal of Aunt Prudence. "She must always exercise great care to behave with such perfect propriety that unfortunate situations do not arise in the first place."

Augusta wrinkled her nose and said nothing.

"And, of course," Claudia continued gravely, "if the gentleman in question happened to be a man of excellent breeding and possessed of an unimpeachable reputation for honor and propriety, that would make the case even more clear."

"It would?"

"Oh, yes. One could certainly see why he would have been led to believe certain promises had been made. And a gentleman of such dignity and refined sensibilities would naturally expect the lady's implied promises to be kept. Her own honor would demand it."

"That is one of the things I have always admired about you, Claudia. You are four full years younger than I, but you have such clear-sighted notions of what is proper." Augusta opened her novel and gave her cousin a tight smile. "Tell me, do you sometimes find that a life filled with such perfect propriety tends to be a trifle dull?"

Claudia smiled warmly. "Life has not been the least bit dull since you came to live with us, Augusta. Something of interest seems to be always occurring in your vicinity. Now, I have a question to put to you."

"What is that?"

"I would like your opinion of Peter Sheldrake."

Augusta looked at her in surprise. "But you know my opinion of him. I arranged to have him introduced to you. I like him very much. Reminds me a bit of my brother Richard."

"That is one of the things that worries me," Claudia admitted. "He does have a certain reckless, devil-may-care air about him. And he has become increasingly attentive lately. I am not quite certain I ought to encourage him."

"There is nothing wrong with Sheldrake. He is heir to a viscountcy and a nice fortune. Even better, he has a sense of humor, which is more than I can say of his friend Graystone."

"I don't believe I mentioned the fact that I had the privilege of meeting your brother a few months before he died, Miss Ballinger." Lovejoy smiled from the other side of the card table as he dealt another hand.

"Richard? You knew my brother?" Augusta, who had been telling herself that it was time to leave the card room and rejoin the crowd in Lady Leebrook's elegant ballroom, looked up, stunned. All thought of cards and strategy went out of her head in an instant.

Her stomach clenched as she waited to see what Lovejoy would say next. As always, when her brother's name was mentioned, she was immediately on the defensive, ready to do battle should anyone happen to question Richard's honor.

She was the only Ballinger left who could fight for Richard's name and memory and whenever the subject arose, she gave her all to the task.

She had been playing cards with Lovejoy for half an hour now, not because she was a particularly enthusiastic player but because she had rather hoped Graystone might wander into the ballroom and come in search of her. She knew he would be irritated, perhaps even mildly shocked by the somewhat dubious propriety of a lady engaging in a card game with a gentleman in such a formal setting.

It was not exactly improper. There were, after all, several other card games in progress in the same room. A few of the ladies involved had been known to lose sums equal to those their husbands occasionally lost in the clubs. But the high-sticklers in the ton, of which Graystone was surely one, did not approve of such goings-on. And Augusta was fairly certain that when he found her playing with Lovejoy, of all people, the earl would be genuinely annoyed.

It was a small vengeance for his high-handed treatment of her in the garden the other evening when he had insisted her honor demanded she remain engaged, but it was all she was likely to get. She had the arguments in her own defense already thoroughly prepared. Indeed, she looked forward to delivering them with relish.

When Graystone took her to task for playing cards with Lovejoy, Augusta planned to point out that he could hardly complain, as he had only forbidden her to dance the waltz with the baron. There had been no stipulations regarding cards. Graystone was a man who prided himself on his logic. He could just choke on it this time.

And if he found the offense of card playing simply too grave to tolerate, he could release her from her implied promises and allow her to cry off the engagement.

But Graystone had apparently elected not to attend the Leebrooks' elegant affair tonight and the entire attempt to challenge him had been wasted. Augusta had tired of the card game, even though she was winning. Lovejoy was pleasant enough company, but all she could think about was the fact that Graystone was absent.

The notion of ending the game and returning to the ballroom came to a crashing halt, however, at the mention of Richard's name.

"I did not know your brother well, you understand," Lovejoy said easily as he casually dealt the cards. "But he seemed quite likable. I believe I met him at a race meeting. He won a considerable sum on a horse I had been certain would lose."

Augusta smiled sadly. "Richard was very fond of attending sporting events of all types." She picked up her cards and glanced at them with unseeing eyes. She could not concentrate on what she held. Her mind was totally riveted on Richard. He had been innocent.

"So I gathered. Took after his father, I believe?"

"Yes. Mother always claimed they were both cut from the same cloth. True Northumberland Ballingers. Always eager for adventure and ready for any sort of excitement." With any luck Lovejoy would not have any inkling of the rumors that had circulated for a time after her brother had been killed on that lonely country lane. The baron had, after all, spent most of the past few years with his regiment on the continent.

"I was sorry to learn of your brother's untimely death two years ago," Lovejoy continued, frowning thoughtfully down at the cards he held. "My belated condolences, Miss Ballinger."

"Thank you." Augusta pretended to study her own cards as she waited to see if Lovejoy would say anything else. All the old memories of Richard's laughter and warmth returned with a rush, blotting out the hum of conversation in the room. The muttered accusations had been so grossly unfair. One only had to know Richard to realize he would never have betrayed his country.

A silence descended on the card table. Lost in her memories of Richard and her bitterness over the unfair accusations that had been lodged against him, Augusta could not begin to concentrate on her hand. She lost for the first time that evening.

"It seems my luck has turned, sir." She started to rise from her chair as she realized that Lovejoy had just won back in one round most of the ten pounds she had succeeded in taking from him.