Amelia swung around to face Iphiginia. She had herself under control, but her soft brown eyes were still haunted with traces of the old fear.

She was twenty-six years old, a year younger than Iphiginia. In many ways she was far prettier, with her finely wrought features, glossy dark brown hair, and expressive eyes. But there was a starkly remote quality to her that made her seem austere and unapproachable.

"I thought he was forcing himself on you," Amelia whispered.

"I know you did. I understand your concern. But, in truth, he merely kissed me, Amelia."

Iphiginia was the only person in whom Amelia had ever confided the details of the hellish experience that she had endured eight years earlier as an eighteen-year-old governess.

Amelia's mother had died giving birth to her daughter. Amelia had been raised by her scholarly but poor father, who had given her the one thing he had in abundance, an education. When he had died, the small stipend on which he and Amelia had depended abruptly ceased.

Faced with the task of making her own way in. the world, Amelia had done what countless other young women possessed of a good background but no funds did: She had applied for a post as a governess.

She had been raped by her employer's houseguest, a man named Dodgson.

The lady of the house had walked in on the scene only moments after Dodgson had finished the assault. The,woman had been scandalized. Her immediate response had been to dismiss Amelia.

The rape had not only cost the penniless Amelia her much needed position, it had made it impossible for her to secure another one. The agency which had sent her into the household where she had been attacked had refused to find her another post.

The head of the agency had informed her that she was no longer sufficiently respectable to work for a firm which prided itself on its exclusive clients and the unblemished character of the governesses and companions it supplied to the best families.

Iphiginia knew that deep inside Amelia the deep scars of that terrible night had faded but had never entirely healed.

"You allowed him to kiss you?" Amelia shook her head in wonder. "But he is a stranger. Indeed, by rights, he is supposed to he a dead stranger."

"I know." Iphiginia sank down slowly onto a Roman style chair. She gazed at the plume in her hand. "But he does not feel as though he were a stranger. Do you know what my first thought was tonight when I saw him in the Fenwicks' ballroom?"

"What was that?" Amelia asked awkwardly.

Iphiginia smiled. "I thought that he looked exactly as he was supposed to look."

"Rubbish. You have spent far too much time dwelling on what you suppose to he his nature."

"Very likely."

Amelia scowled. "He just appeared at the Fenwicks' ball?"

"Yes. He knows nothing about the blackmail situation, by the way. He says that he is definitely not a victim."

"Good lord. And he did not give you away?"

"No' He obviously had heard A the rumors that we have contrived to put about. You could say that he and I patched up our quarrel in front of the entire ton."

"I wonder why he went along with the thing," Amelia mused.

"Masters is a very intelligent man with a keen sense of curiosity and a marvelously open mind. Obviously he made the very sensible decision not to unmask me until he discovered what I was about."

Amelia snorted. "Hmm."

"A man of his wide-ranging intellect would naturally possess a rational, coolheaded nature. He is not the sort to jump to conclusions."

"It makes no sense," Amelia snapped. "I do not like this business. I'H wager he's got another reason for being so cooperative."

"What reason would that be?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he has decided that it would he amusing to turn you into his real mistress."

Iphiginia caught her breath. "Oh, I really don't think-"

"Precisely." Amelia gave her a grim look. "You have not been thinking properly since this affair started. Bah.

Why the devil isn't the man dead as he was purported to be?"

"He has been away at one of his country estates and only returned to Town because he heard about me."

"So the note Aunt Zoe received claiming that Masters had been murdered because he would not pay blackmail was merely a ploy to frighten her."

"Apparently. This is all very odd, Amelia."

"This entire plan has struck me as decidedly odd from the beginning."

"I know you have not approved," Iphiginia said. "But I thought it was working rather well."

"Until Masters came back from the dead. Some people have no consideration. What are you going to do now?"

"I have no choice but to continue posing as Masters's mistress." Iphiginia tapped her gloved forefinger against her pursed lips. "My original plan is still the only one we have and I believe that it is still a good one. If my true identity is revealed, I will lose my entree into Masters's social circle."

"No great loss, if you ask me," Amelia grumbled.

"I disagree. As the mysterious Mrs. Bright, paramour of the Earl of Masters, I can go anywhere and talk to anyone.

"But as Miss Bright, spinster, bluestocking, and former proprietor of Miss Bright's Academy for Young Ladies, you will be confined to a much more mundane circle of acquaintances. Is that it?"

Iphiginia made a face. "I'm afraid so. It's true that I now have ample funds, thanks to our very good fortune with our property investments-"

"You mean thanks to your very shrewd knowledge of architecture and Mr. Manwaring's talents as a businessman," Amelia corrected.

"And your skills in financial matters," Iphiginia added. "Do not forget your contribution."

"Yes, well, that is not the point."

Iphiginia smiled wryly. "As I started to say, regardless of the status of my finances, as Miss Iphiginia Bright, I lack the social contacts and the cachet I need to move in Masters's circles."

"And you are still convinced that whoever is behind the blackmail threat moves in Masters's world as well as your aunt's."

Iphiginia stroked the white plume. "I am certain of it. It is clear that whoever he is, he knew a great deal about the earl's plans for the Season. He was able to time the delivery of his threat to Aunt Zoe very precisely."

"Yes, I know, but-" "And he knows the secret from, Zoe's past. The only connection between Masters and Aunt Zoe is those men who played cards with Guthrie and who now play occasionally with Masters."

"But Guthrie, himself, never knew Zoe's secret. "Guthrie was so drunk most of the time that he couldn't even win at cards, let alone perceive what was happening right beneath his nose. But someone who was close to him might well have guessed what was going on between Zoe and Lord Otis and put two and two together when Maryanne was horn."

"And tried to blackmail her with the facts eighteen years later?"

"Yes. Do not forget that the news that Maryanne is actually Lord Otis's daughter, not Guthrie's, was not worth much until the Earl of Sheffield asked for her hand in marriage a few months ago."

Iphiginia did not have to go into the details. They both knew that if there was a scandal connected to Maryanne's name, Sheffield would no doubt retract his offer.

The Sheffield family was notoriously high in the instep. They very likely already had doubts about the wisdom of the heir marrying someone such as Maryanne. True, she had a respectable portion to recommend her, but it was not a great fortune. And she was quite lovely, but there was no denying that her family was somewhat undistinguished.

Sheffield could have looked much higher and everyone knew it. Its alliance with Maryanne was a love match and love was considered a frivolous reason for marriage in the ton.

"I don't know, Iphiginia," Amelia said after a moment. "This whole scheme was dangerous enough when we thought the earl was dead. But now that he is alive, I have a feeling that matters could get considerably more complicated."