"I am sorry, my lord. I was teasing you. Not at all fair of me when I knew you were only trying to comfort me." She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips across his jaw. "Let me tell you first about the menu I have drawn up for late supper on the night of the ball."

Harry smiled slowly, his eyes still watchful. "It has been a long time since a ball was held at Graystone. Somehow I cannot quite imagine the place done up for one."

The guests began arriving early in the afternoon on the appointed day. Augusta plunged herself into the role of hostess, directing the traffic on the stairs, consulting with the kitchens, and making last-minute arrangements for sleeping accommodations.

Meredith was constantly at her side, her serious gaze absorbing everything from the proper preparation of the bedchambers to the way one organized food for large numbers of people who would not be keeping regular hours.

"It is very complicated, is it not?" Meredith asked at one point. "This business of entertaining, I mean."

"Oh, yes," Augusta assured her. "It is quite a task to make everything come off in such a way that nothing looks as though it was difficult to organize. My mother was very good at this kind of thing. Northumberland Ballingers enjoy entertaining."

"Papa does not enjoy it," Meredith observed.

"I expect he will grow accustomed to it."

Late that afternoon Augusta was standing on the top of the steps, Meredith and the housekeeper, Mrs. Gibbons, at her side, when a sleek green phaeton pulled by a matched set of grays bowled down the drive.

"I do believe, Mrs. Gibbons," Augusta said as she watched Peter Sheldrake alight from the racy phaeton and toss the reins to a groom, "that we shall put Mr. Sheldrake in the yellow bedchamber."

"That will be next door to Miss Claudia Ballinger, then, madam?" Mrs. Gibbons made a note on a piece of paper.

"Yes, exactly." Augusta smiled and went down the steps to greet Peter. "How good of you to come, Mr. Sheldrake. I do hope you will not be too bored here in the country. Graystone has been telling me for days that country parties are not really your thing."

Peter's brilliant blue eyes danced with laughter as he bent his head over her hand. "Madam, I assure you, I do not expect to expire of boredom in your drawing room. I understand your cousin will be here?"

"She arrived but half an hour ago with Uncle Thomas and is presently refreshing himself." Augusta smiled down at Meredith. "You have been acquainted with Graystone's daughter, I believe?"

"I have seen her once or twice. But I had definitely forgotten how very pretty she is. What a charming gown, Lady Meredith." Peter turned the fall force of his smile on the girl.

"Thank you." Meredith appeared unaware of Peter's charm. She was staring past him at the bright green phaeton with its high springs and elegant, daring lines. There was a sparkle of something that might have been longing in her eyes. "That is a most wonderful carriage, Mr. Sheldrake."

"I am rather proud of it," Peter admitted. "Won a race in it just last weekend. Would you care for a ride in it later?"

"Oh, yes," Meredith breathed. "I should enjoy that more than anything."

"Then we shall plan on it," Peter said.

Augusta grinned. "Actually, I would not be adverse to a ride in your phaeton myself, sir. Graystone, as you no doubt know, does not precisely approve of such dashing conveyances. He thinks them unnecessarily dangerous."

"You shall both be safe enough in my hands, I assure you, Lady Graystone. We shall go quite slowly and take no chances."

Augusta laughed up at him. "Do not make it sound too safe, sir, or you will take all the sport out of the thing. What is the point of driving about in a phaeton if one does not go fast?"

"Do not let your husband hear you say that," Peter warned, "or he will probably forbid you and Lady Meredith to go about in it with me. Graystone's notion of having an exciting time of it is to uncover an old Latin text featuring Cicero or Tacitus."

Meredith began to look worried. "Is a phaeton quite dangerous, then, Mr. Sheldrake?"

"It certainly can be if it is driven recklessly." Peter winked at her. "Are you afraid to ride in mine?"

"Oh, no," Meredith assured him gravely. "It is only that Papa does not like me to do dangerous things."

Augusta looked down at Meredith. "I have an idea, Meredith. We will simply not tell your father how fast we go in Mr. Sheldrake's phaeton. What do you think about that?"

Meredith blinked at the novel notion of deliberately not telling her father a fact. Then she said in a serious voice, "Very well. But if he asks me about it directly, I shall have to tell him all. I could not possibly lie to Papa."

Augusta wrinkled her nose. "Yes, of course. I understand. You must blame me entirely if we happen to land in a ditch during our drive."

"What's this? A conspiracy?" Harry asked, sounding amused as he came down the steps. "If Sheldrake lands anyone other than himself in a ditch, he shall have a great deal of explaining to do. To me."

"A dreadful notion," Peter drawled. "You were never very understanding or sympathetic about mistakes and miscalculations, Graystone."

"Keep that in mind." Harry glanced down the drive as another carriage approached. "I am certain Mrs. Gibbons is about to show you to your bedchamber, Sheldrake. When you have refreshed yourself, I would like for you to join me in the library. There is something I wish to discuss with you."

"Of course." Peter gave Augusta another of his laughing smiles and went on up the steps behind the housekeeper.

Meredith looked anxiously up at her father. "Is it truly all right for me to go for a ride in Mr. Sheldrake's beautiful phaeton?"

Harry gave Augusta a smiling glance over the top of his daughter's head. "I believe it will be safe enough. Sheldrake has more brains than to take undue risks with the two people in the world who happen to be most important to me."

Augusta felt herself warmed by the expression in her husband's eyes. Flustered by the look, she smiled at Meredith. "There, now, it is settled. We shall not have to sneak about in order to ride in Mr. Sheldrake's phaeton, after all."

Meredith smiled her father's slow smile. "Perhaps Papa will buy us our very own phaeton."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry muttered. "I am not about to spend good money on such a frivolous conveyance. In any event, I am nearly bankrupt already due to the excessive expenditures Augusta seems to have made lately on her wardrobe and your own."

Meredith was instantly appalled. She glanced down at the pretty pink ribbons on her dress. "Oh, Papa. I am sorry. I did not realize we were spending too much money on my gowns."

Augusta glowered at Harry. "Meredith, your father is teasing us most shamelessly. We have not even begun to put a dent in his income and in any event, I believe he rather likes our new clothes. Is that not so, Graystone?"

"They are worth every penny, even if it puts me in dun territory," Harry said gallantly.

Meredith smiled in relief and her hand stole into Augusta's as her attention went back to the green phaeton. "It really is a most beautiful phaeton."

"So it is," Augusta agreed. She squeezed Meredith's hand gently.

Harry looked down at his daughter. "I perceive a taste for adventure developing here. It appears my daughter is beginning to take after her new mother."

For some reason Augusta felt quite ridiculously pleased by that notion.