Iphiginia contemplated her options for a few seconds. She was acutely aware of the growing number of stares aimed in her direction. More than one head had turned. More than one ear was discreetly cocked in an attempt to overhear the fascinating exchange that was taking place between Masters and his new paramour.

It was obvious from the ruthless set of his jaw and the unyielding line of his mouth that Marcus was in a dangerous mood. He was apparently willing to stage a humiliating quarrel for the entertainment of the fashionable shoppers in Pall Mall if Iphiginia did not accede to his wishes.

"Very well, my lord." She gave him a brittle smile as she placed her gloved fingertips lightly on his arm. "If you insist on playing the role of the wicked troll, so be it."

"An excellent decision. I have often been cast in the role of the troll and I assure you I am capable of giving a truly electrifying performance."

"I do not doubt it for a moment. I would have you know, sir, that during my travels on the Continent this past year I was never once obliged to deal with this sort of ungentlemanly conduct. There was a nasty little street thief in Rome who had better manners."

"Perhaps one day I shall have the opportunity to take lessons. They do say that travel is broadening. Come, we have drawn enough attention." Marcus's fingers closed more tightly around her arm. He resumed the brisk pace along Pall Mall.

"People are staring at us." "I should think you would be accustomed to it by now. Tell me why I should not conclude that you are the blackmailer."

"First tell me why you came to the conclusion that I was.

Marcus slanted her an unreadable glance. "You are an exceedingly clever female' You have made a study of me that was so astute it enabled you to fool the ton into believing that you are my mistress."

"We all have our little skills." "Your particular skills convince me that you could have delved just as deeply into the background of others and perhaps come up with suitable material for blackmail."

Iphiginia nearly choked on her outrage. "Material such as that which is being used to blackmail your friend?"

"Precisely." "I would never do such a thing." Iphiginia realized that she was hurt as well as angry and she did not know quite why. Marcus's alarming conclusions about her were not unreasonable under the circumstances. Nevertheless, she felt wounded by them. "If you knew me better, my lord, you would not make such accusations."

"I am, but I do not know you very well at all, do I? Not nearly as well as you appear to know me. And that, madam, has finally begun to worry me."

"I do not see how I can persuade you of my innocence, nor will I lower myself to even attempt to do so."

"Then we have a problem on our hands, my dear." Marcus inclined his head a hare half inch at an acquaintance who nodded from the doorway of a snuff shop.

Iphiginia pretended to focus on some gloves that were displayed in a shop window. She could fed the avid curiosity in the gaze of the man who stood in front of the snuff shop. Indeed, she could feel a dozen pairs of eyes boring into her. I

There was very little privacy here in Town. Anonymity was impossible, especially for any woman whose name was linked with that of the Earl of Masters.

It was almost as bad as living in Deepford, Iphiginia thought resentfully. But at least here in London she would not he subjected to lectures on propriety from the vicar or from the parents of her sister's in-laws-to-be.

She merely had to listen to such lectures from Marcus.

"You are making a much more difficult problem out of this affair than is necessary," Iphiginia said forcefully. "But then, something tells me that you are a very difficult man.

"Regardless of how unpleasant this problem is for you, madam, you may rest assured that until it is resolved, you and I are going to be spending a great deal of time in each other's company."

"What is that supposed to mean, my lord?" "It means that until I am convinced that you are not involved in this blackmail scheme, I intend to keep you very near at hand." Marcus smiled without any trace of amusement. "Where I can keep an eye on you. How fortunate for me that you have chosen to masquerade as my mistress. It provides the perfect excuse for me to stay very close to you."

Iphiginia bristled. "What if I decide that I no longer wish to continue the masquerade?"

"It is far too late to change your mind about your role in this charming little play." Marcus acknowledged another acquaintance with a faint tilt of his head. "You are too deeply into the part."

"If that is the case, I give you fair warning that I fully intend to proceed with my inquiries. I am determined to discover the identity of the blackmailer."

"An odd coincidence. I have set myself precisely the same goal."

Fulminating, Iphiginia studied him in silence for a moment. "We are going to carry on with our pretense, then?"

"Yes." Marcus responded to the greeting of an elderly woman who was emerging from a bookshop. "Mrs. Osworth."

"Masters." Iphiginia recognized the heady-eyed lady. She managed a civil smile. "Good day, Mrs. Osworth."

"Good day to you, Mrs. Bright." Mrs. Osworth turned her sharp gaze on Marcus. "Lovely day, my lord, is it not?"

"Indeed," Marcus said. "I trust we shall be seeing you both at the Lartmores' ball this evening?" Mrs. Osworth murmured.

"Doubtful," Marcus said flatly. "I certainly plan to attend," Iphiginia said briskly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus's mouth thin with disapproval. She deliberately brightened her smile. "I understand that Lord Lartmore has a very extensive collection of statuary."

"Yes, I believe he does," Mrs. Osworth said. "My husband mentioned it once. I have never seen it myself. I'm not terribly interested in antique statuary. Oh, dear, you must forgive me. I must be off." "Yes, of course," Iphiginia said. "I have an appointment to interview a woman who is being sent over from the Wycherley Agency. I am seeking a new companion, you know."

"No, I did not know," Iphiginia said. "My last one a flighty little thing if you must know the truth ran off two days ago with a young man of absolutely no background. Can you imagine? After all I'd done for the girl. Ungrateful wretch. This time I shall hire someone older. And a good deal plainer. Until this evening, then, my dear."

"Good day, Mrs. Osworth," Iphiginia said. Marcus was silent until Mrs. Osworth was out of earshot. "Why do you wish to go to the Lartmore ball? Bound to he a dead bore."

"Two reasons," Iphiginia said crisply. "The first is that I would dearly love to see Lord Lartmore's statuary collection."

"He allows only his closest acquaintances and certain, ah, connoisseurs to tour it."

"I hope to prevail upon him to show it to me."

"You wouldn't be interested. Rather poorly executed copies, for the most part."

Iphiginia momentarily forgot that she was annoyed with Marcus. "You've seen it?"

"Yes, and you may take my word for it. There is nothing to interest the scholar in Lartmore's statuary hall."

"How disappointing. I was so looking forward to viewing his antiquities."

"Save your time. What was the other reason you wished to attend?"

"To pursue my inquiries, of course. His name is on my list of men who connect your world with that of my aunt's. And you did play a few hands with Lartmore at your club that night before you left for Yorkshire."

Marcus eyed her speculatively. "You really have done a most thorough investigation of my activities, have you not?"

"I told you that I had made a close study of your habits."

"Lartmore is no blackmailer." "How do you know that?"

"He's extremely wealthy. He has no reason to resort to blackmail."

"Perhaps he has recently suffered some serious reverses in his fortunes."