Iphiginia flushed. In spite of her own desperate situation, she felt the urge to defend the earl. "He's not an enigma. He happens to prefer to maintain his privacy, that's all. Perfectly reasonable."

"Well, you've gone and made a spectacle of him and robbed him of his precious privacy, haven't you, m'dear? He won't appreciate it, that's for certain."

Herbert, unfortunately, was right, as usual.

Iphiginia slanted her new friend an uncertain glance. Herbert was far more familiar with the treacherous ways of London Society than she. He had been swimming in these unpredictable waters for the past two years. Since making his acquaintance a fortnight ago, she had learned to value his judgments. Herbert seemed to know everyone who was anyone. He comprehended all the nuances of behavior in this elite world, from the simple snub to the cut direct.

In terms of social rank, Herbert was a small fish in the: London pond. But he was one of a number of charming, gallant males of indeterminate age who made themselves indispensable to hostesses and anxious mamas alike.

Men such as Herbert were willing to dance with wallflowers or sip tea with elderly matrons. They fetched champagne for wives whose husbands were occupied in the card rooms. They chatted easily with nervous young ladies who were being launched into Society. In short, they were eminently useful and therefore they always managed to obtain invitations to the best balls and soirees in town.

Herbert was in his middle thirties. He was a pleasant faced, slightly plump man with ruddy cheeks, pale blue eyes, and a good-natured, inoffensive manner. His thinning, light brown hair was cut and curled in the latest style. His yellow waistcoat, which fitted a trifle too snugly at the waist, as well as his elaborately tied cravat were in the very forefront of fashion.

Iphiginia liked Herbert. He was one of the few men who seemed to have no interest in trying to take what everyone imagined to he Masters 's place in her life. She could be at case in his presence. He enjoyed discussing matters of art and architectural fashion. And she respected his advice in social matters.

But even Herbert, rarely at a loss for the proper response to any given social situation, appeared to be floundering tonight. Obviously he did not know how to handle the impending catastrophe.

Iphiginia unfurled her white lace fan as she collected her wildly scattered thoughts. The only thing that would see her through this disaster was her own intelligence. She reminded herself that she had her fair share of that commodity.

"Masters is, above all, a gentleman. There is no reason for him to embarrass either me or himself."

"Whatever you say, my dear." Herbert arched one bushy brow in a knowing fashion. "I assure you, there's no need to go into the details of your connection to Masters with me. Everyone in Town is well aware of just what sort of friends you and Masters were."

"Indeed." Iphiginia's tone held the repressive note that she employed whenever someone grew too bold on the subject of the earl. She rarely needed to use that tone with Herbert. He was usually more discreet.

She could hardly complain about the assumptions. Herbert and the members of the ton had made concerning the nature of her relationship with Masters. Society had arrived at precisely the conclusions that she had wanted it to reach.

Such assumptions and conclusions were part of the grand plan to gain entree into Masters's exclusive circle of acquaintances. The scheme had worked until tonight.

"Regardless of your past association with Masters, Herbert said, "the question everyone is asking tonight is, what happens next? We have been led to believe that you and he had come to a parting of the ways, m'dear. But his presence here this evening indicates otherwise."

Iphiginia ignored the questioning note in his voice. She could hardly provide him with an answer when she did not have one.

Unable to think of anything else to do in the midst of the crisis, Iphiginia determined to do the only thing possible. She stuck to the story she had concocted when she had embarked on her perilous adventure.

"Masters knows very well that our connection is finished unless he chooses to apologize for the quarrel he caused," she said smoothly.

"One never uses the word impossible when one is discussing, Masters," Herbert said. "But in this instance, I think it is permissible. It's safe to say that no one in this room tonight can conceive of the earl apologizing to a lady who has humiliated him' in front of the whole of Society."

Iphiginia was horrified. "But I have done no such thing, Mr. Hoyt."

"No?"

Iphiginia fanned herself rapidly. She felt much too warm. "I merely indicated that he and I were no longer in charity with each other."

"And that it was all his fault."

"Well yes." Iphiginia swallowed. "It certainly was all his fault. But I did not seek to humiliate him in front of his friends."

Herbert gave her an odd look. "Come now, my dear. Let us he honest here. You have hinted that you and Masters had a violent quarrel, one that shattered your close friendship. You cannot tell me that you were not looking for a bit of revenge when you descended on Society. Everyone believes you to be searching for a suitable replacement for him."

"That is not true." Iphiginia cleared her throat. mean, the earl does owe me an apology, but I never intended to, uh, obtain one from him." One did not get apologies from dead men.

"Whatever your intention, you have made certain that everyone understood that you were the one who severe the connection. They believe that you actually had this temerity to give Masters his conge."

It had all been part of her scheme to transform herself into an instant rage in the eyes of the ton, but Iphiginia, could hardly explain that to Herbert. "As to that slight misunderstanding-"

"Misunderstanding?" Herbert gave her a pitying look. "For the past fortnight, Society has not been able to decide if you are the most daring lady in London or simply a candidate for Bedlam."

"I am beginning to wonder myself," Iphiginia muttered under her breath. She must have been mad to get herself into this situation.

"You know that the ton has been waiting on tenterhooks to see how Masters will respond to your notion of vengeance."

"I have told you, Mr. Hoyt, that I have absolutely no interest in vengeance. There was a small tiff between us, that's all. It requires an apology, nothing more."

"So now it's a minor tiff, is it? Heretofore you have termed it a major quarrel."

"These things get enlarged out of all proportion under the influence of gossip, do they not?"

"They certainly do, m'dear." Herbert patted her hand reassuringly "But fear not. I shall remain by your side, ready to assist you if Masters turns unpleasant."

"A reassuring thought."

But it was not reassuring at all. Masters had somehow come back from the dead and there would be the devil to pay.

Herbert's reaction to the situation confirmed everything Iphiginia had learned thus far about the notorious earl. Society thought him deliciously dangerous and unpredictable.

There were rumors of a duel years ago in which he had very nearly killed his opponent. Worse yet, it was whispered that he might have actually been responsible for the murder of his former business associate, Lynton Spalding. It was certainly a fact that after Spalding's death Masters had assumed control of the profitable investment pool his associate had once managed.

Many claimed that the lucrative pool was not the only thing Masters had seized following Spalding's demise. It was said that he had indulged in a long-standing affair with Spalding's widow, Hannah, and that the affair continued to this day even though she had remarried and was now Lady Sands.