Meredith looked disapproving. "Mother, you are always a source of the most amazing gossip."

"I do my best," Lydia said proudly.

The velvet curtain at the back of the box twitched as Anthony entered. Phoebe's brows rose when she saw that he was scowling. "Did you bring us some lemonade?"

"No, I did not. A much more pressing issue has arisen." Anthony dropped down onto one of the velvet-cushioned chairs. "I just ran into Rantley. He and two of his friends were talking about Wylde."

Phoebe asked. "What were they saying?"

Anthony's mouth hardened. "They changed the topic the moment I arrived, but I overheard their earlier remarks. They were discussing the possibility that your husband may have made his fortune as a pirate rather than as a legitimate businessman while out in the islands."

"How dare they?" Phoebe stormed. She shot to her feet. "I shall find them and correct that notion at once."

"What's this?" Lydia lowered her opera glass and frowned at Phoebe. "Sit down, my girl. You are not going anywhere."

Meredith gave Phoebe a quelling glance. "Mother is quite right. Sit down at once. Do you want people staring at this box and wondering what is going on?"

Phoebe reluctantly sat. "We must do something about this dreadful gossip. I cannot stand by and allow people to speculate about Wylde in this manner."

"You will accomplish nothing by chasing after the gossip mongers," Lydia said sternly.

"What do you suggest I do?" Phoebe snapped.

Lydia's smile was filled with the happy anticipation of battle. "We shall let them come to us, of course."

Phoebe blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Mama is quite right," Meredith said calmly. "It is always preferable to fight the enemy on one's own ground."

Phoebe looked helplessly at Anthony. "Do you know what they are talking about?"

Anthony chuckled. "No, but I have utmost respect for Mama and Meredith when it comes to dealing with this sort of thing."

Lydia nodded with satisfaction. "I doubt that we will have long to wait for the first skirmish." She raised her glass to her eye again. "Ah, yes. Lady Ran-tley is leaving her box at this very moment. I'll wager she's on her way over here."

"Do you think she intends to ask rude questions about Wylde's past?" Phoebe demanded.

"I think it highly likely, given that her lord is talking about it to his friends." Lydia assumed a thoughtful expression. "The interesting thing about Eugenie is that she is the one who makes all the financial moves in the Rantley household. Rantley merely carries out her instructions. You will remember that when she gets here, won't you?"

"Yes, Mama," Meredith said.

Anthony grinned. "I understand."

"Excellent." Lydia paused. "I wonder who started that rumor of piracy."

"Baxter, no doubt," Anthony said. "Wylde really is going to have to do something about him. He's becoming more than a nuisance. Wylde says he has a mesmerizing effect on females. Apparently his former fiancée fell under Baxter's spell."

Phoebe stared at her brother. "What former fiancée?"

Anthony winced. "Sorry. Shouldn't have mentioned it. It's all finished. She's married to someone else."

"What former fiancée?" Phoebe repeated grimly.

"Just someone he was engaged to for a while out in the islands," Anthony said in soothing tones. "Wylde mentioned her in passing. It was not important."

Phoebe felt slightly ill. "Not important," she repeated under her breath. "Today I find out Wylde is pursuing a woman who runs a brothel and tonight I learn he was previously engaged to another woman. Someone he has never bothered to mention."

"There are two types of men in the world, Phoebe." Lydia peered through her glass. "The type who talk about their pasts incessantly and the type who rarely mention the subject. Be grateful you have got the latter sort. The former tend to become a bore over time."

"Nevertheless," Phoebe muttered, "it is unnerving to learn that my husband was rather recently engaged to another woman."

"Not so recently," Anthony said. "The engagement ended about a year ago. Right after Wylde learned that his fiancée was passing information on sailing dates and cargoes to Baxter."

"Oh, my God," Phoebe said. "What was she like?"

"The fiancée?" Anthony shrugged. "He did not describe her. I gather she was rather naive and not particularly loyal. Apparently Baxter had no difficulty seducing her."

Phoebe sighed. It seemed that every time she turned around, she discovered yet another reason why Gabriel hesitated to trust anyone. There were moments when she almost despaired of fulfilling her quest. How could she teach him to love if she could not even teach him to trust?

Bleakly she recalled the cold anger in his eyes that afternoon when he had stalked into her bedchamber, demanding Neil's note. He had obviously assumed the worst from the start.

For her part, she had been so busy recovering from the shock of the message that she had not had time to think about how to respond, let alone how to deal with Gabriel. Her first instinct had been to hide the note and she had done so. She had known Gabriel would be enraged, that he would worry she might believe Neil's lies.

Obviously she had chosen the wrong tactic. Gabriel was probably more wary now than ever of trusting her. Everything she did around Gabriel seemed to misfire.

"Good evening, Lydia."

Phoebe turned at the sound of the booming voice. Eugenie, Lady Rantley, sailed into the box with all the aplomb of a large vessel coming into port. She was garbed in an amethyst-colored satin gown that strained across her enormous chest and broad hips. Huge artificial flowers graced her turban.

Anthony got to his feet and Meredith nodded politely.

"Good evening, Eugenie." Lydia did not do anything more than glance over her shoulder. "Have you seen Milly's new paramour? He appears to be a charming young man."

"Milly has no doubt brought him here to put him on display," Lady Rantley said. "That is not what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you heard the rumors, Lydia?"

Phoebe started to speak, but Meredith caught her eye and silently hushed her.

"What rumors would those be?" Lydia continued to scan the audience with her opera glass.

"About Wylde, of course." Lady Rantley glanced at Phoebe. "They are saying the man made his fortune as a pirate."

"Are they, indeed?" Lydia said calmly. "How very exciting. I have always thought that every family needs a pirate or two somewhere in the family tree. It invigorates the bloodlines, you know."

Lady Rantley stared at Lydia. "Are you saying you are aware of the possibility that Wylde might have actually been a pirate?"

"Of course. Anthony, Lady Cressborough has brought her daughter with her tonight. I want you to take a look at her. I believe she would make you an excellent wife."

Anthony grimaced. "I danced with her the other night at the Tannershams' ball. She has not got a brain in her head."

"Oh, dear. Well, that's that, then. I could not bear to have a stupid daughter-in-law," Lydia said dryly. "Got to think of the bloodlines, you know."

Lady Rantley cleared her throat loudly. "I beg your pardon, Lydia, but am I right in concluding that you are making a joke out of this extremely alarming gossip?"

Meredith smiled vaguely at Lady Rantley. "My husband assures me that Wylde is richer than Croesus and has extensive shipping interests."

"So I hear," Lady Rantley said ominously.

"Trowbridge also says Wylde is starting up a new venture that is expected to be highly profitable." Meredith's smile grew even more bland. "All of Wylde's ventures are profitable, he says. I believe Wylde will be selling some shares in the project. Trowbridge is buying several."

Lady Rantley's gaze sharpened abruptly. "Is that so? Shares will be available, you say?"