"She's Dorchester 's daughter and I know Dorchester. He's desperate to marry Juliana into money. And her mother wants a title in the family so badly she can taste it." Marcus pointed a fork at Bennet and narrowed his eyes. "You're a prime catch on the Marriage Mart, Bennet. You're rich and there's every expectation that you'll inherit the title. You must he on your guard."

Bennet flung down his napkin. "That's outrageous. Miss Dorchester is not the type to concern herself with money and titles."

"If you really believe that, then you are infinitely more naive than I thought."

"I am not naive. But neither am I as cold-natured and rigid and set in my ways as you are, Marcus. And I certainly don't hang about with outrageous females such as your Mrs. Bright."

"You will speak of Mrs. Bright with respect or you will not mention her name at all, is that understood?"

"She's your mistress, for God's sake."

"She is my very good friend."

"Everyone knows what that means. You have some nerve criticizing Miss Dorchester. Your Mrs. Bright could take a few lessons in decorum from her, if you ask me."

Marcus slammed his coffee cup down onto the saucer. "No one asked you."

The door of the breakfast room opened. Lovelace loomed. He had A small silver tray in one gloved hand.

"A message for you, m'lord. It just arrived."

Marcus frowned as he took the note from the tray. He read it quickly and silently.

M:

I must see you at once. Very urgent. The park. Ten o'clock. The fountain.

Yrs.

H

Marcus glanced at Lovelace. "Have Zeus saddled and brought around at nine-thirty. I believe that I shall ride in the park this morning."

"Yes, my lord." Lovelace backed out of the breakfast room

Who sent you the note?" Bennet asked. "A friend."

"Mrs. Bright, I expect."

"No, as a matter of fact, it's not from Mrs. Bright." Bennet's mouth tightened. "I've never seen you quite

so touchy about one of your paramours."

"She is my friend." Marcus tossed down his napkin and rose to his feet. "Do not forget that Bennet."

At five minutes before ten, Marcus rode Zeus, his heavily muscled black stallion, into the park. He took the graveled path that led toward the center of the vast wooded swath of green. It was the least traveled of the many paths.

Hannah, Lady Sands, was waiting for him in a small closed curricle. She was dressed in a dark maroon carriage gown' The high fluted collar accentuated the graceful line of her throat. Her lovely face was concealed beneath the veil of her stylish maroon hat.

"Marcus. Thank God you have come." She lifted her veil and gazed at him with stark, anxious eyes. "I have been beside myself for days. This morning, when I learned that you were back in Town, I sent my note at once. I feared you would not be free to see me on such short notice."

"You know that I am always available to you, Hannah." Marcus did not Eke the tense set of her delicate features or the shadows in her gray eyes.

Hannah was twenty-nine, married to the wealthy, likable Lord Sands and recently blessed with an infant son.

She had been widowed seven years ago. Her new marriage, which had taken place three years previously, had appeared to he a happy one. Marcus had been glad for her. He had thought her days of fear were behind her, but this morning he recognized the old haunted expression in her eyes.

"What is it, Hannah?"

"I am being blackmailed," she whispered. Her face crumpled in despair. "Oh, Marcus, someone knows everything."

Marcus did not move. "That's impossible."

"No, it's true." Tears formed in her eyes. "Oh, God, he knows, do you comprehend me? He knows how Spalding died. He knows that I killed him."

"Hannah, get hold of yourself. Are you telling me that someone has demanded money from you?"

"Yes. Five thousand pounds. I have already paid it. I was forced to pawn some earrings."

"Bloody hell."

"I fear there will he more demands."

"Yes." Marcus tapped his riding crop against his boot. "I think we can safely assume that there will be more demands. There always are when one is dealing with a blackmailer."

"Dear heaven, I am so afraid, Marcus."

"Hannah, listen carefully. When did you get the first demand?"

"Six days ago. I would have sent a message to you at once, but I did not know where you had gone. I only knew that you were out of Town for an extended period of time."

"I was at Cloud Hall." "I have been absolutely desperate. I haven't slept in days. Sands is becoming very concerned. He keeps asking me what is wrong. He wants me to summon a doctor. What am I going to do?"

"Nothing for the moment," Marcus said gently. "I shall deal with this."

"But what can you do? Marcus, did you hear me? This person knows that I… that I am a murderess."

"Hush, Hannah. Calm yourself. You did not murder Lynton Spalding. What you did was done in self-defense. Do not ever forget that."

"No one will believe it. What will Sands say if he ever learns the truth?"

"I suspect that your husband would be far more understanding about this than you believe," Marcus said. It was not the first time he had tried to talk Hannah into telling Sands the truth about her first husband's death. But Hannah was adamant in her refusal to do so.

"I dare not tell him, Marcus. He would never he able to accept the knowledge that he is married to a woman who had actually killed her first husband. How would you deal with such a revelation if you were in his shoes?"

Marcus shrugged. "Knowing what I do about Spalding and his treatment of you, I would congratulate you on being such an excellent shot."

Hannah gave him a stricken look. "Please, I beg you, do not tease me."

"I'm not teasing you. It's the truth. I think you underestimate your new husband."

"I know him better than you do. He thinks I am a paragon. I simply cannot tell him the truth."

"Apparently the blackmailer knows that, too," Marcus observed. "Interesting."

"What are you going to do?" "I believe that I shall have a long talk with someone who appears to know more about this situation than I had realized."

"What on earth are you saying?" Hannah wailed. "Marcus, you must not tell anyone about any of this."

"Do not concern yourself. I shall not give away your secret. But I do intend to seek a few answers to some questions I neglected to ask last night."

"I don't understand."

"lt appears I was somewhat hasty. I did something I rarely do: I leaped to a conclusion." Marcus steadied the prancing Zeus. "I thought I was being treated to a very inventive banbury tale, you see."

"What are you talking about?"

"Never mind. It's a long story and I do not have time to tell it at the moment. Rest assured that I shall look into this matter at once, Hannah. And do not pay another penny in blackmail without consulting me first, do you understand?"

"Yes." Hannah's elegantly gloved fingers tightened on the reins. "I am so relieved to be able to talk to you about this. I was going mad."

"It will be alright, I promise you."

Hannah smiled mistily. "That is what you said the night you helped me dispose of Spalding's body."

"And I was right, was I not?"

She gave him an odd look. "You kept my secret but at a great cost to yourself. You know very well that there are still those who say that you murdered Spalding in cold blood in order to gain control of the investment pool."

Marcus smiled. "No one could ever prove that he was not killed by a footpad, and that was all that mattered. Gossip does not bother me, Hannah. I am accustomed to it."

Her mouth curved wryly. "Sometimes I think that nothing bothers you." She hesitated. "I read the morning papers. I could not help but see the gossip about a certain exhibition at the Fenwicks' ball last night."