"I never thought you were," Iphiginia said airily. "I was merely making a point."

Marcus moved very deliberately away from the mantel. He crossed the room to where Iphiginia sat on the Grecian sofa and halted directly in front of her. "Men have died making points such as yours."

"Perhaps, but I do not believe they have died by your hand, sir. You are much too intelligent to go about issuing challenges over such trivial matters."

"You think a man's honor is a trivial matter?" "No, of course not. And neither is a woman's honor. But one cannot prove one's honor on a dueling field, can one? The truth is, not established by lodging a bullet in someone wisely

Marcus leaned over her, one hand on the arm of the sofa, the other braced on the curved back. She was trapped in the corner. "Be that as it may, a well-lodged bullet has a remarkably quieting effect on gossip."

"I doubt it. It merely drives it underground. But who gives a fig about gossip? You and I have the luxury of being virtually immune to gossip, do we not, my lord?"

"There are limits to everything, Iphiginia, and you have reached the limits of my indulgence. A mistress-in-name-only can tread only so far and no farther."

"How would you know, sir? You. have already admitted that you have never had a mistress-in-name-only before."

Amelia held up a hand. "I think it would he an excellent notion to put an end to this nonsense before your quarrel grows any more ludicrous."

Marcus glanced at her. "You're quite right, Miss Farley. Thank you for injecting a note of reason into the situation."

"You're welcome." Marcus straightened and started to prowl the room. "Now, then, let us get back to more important matters. Another interesting possibility has just struck me."

Iphiginia sat forward and fluffed her skirts in the manner of a small cat grooming herself after she had been rudely disturbed. "What is that, sir?"

"I have been thinking about the statement that started our argument."

"Your observation that one's man of affairs is often in a position to gain a great deal of private information?" Iphiginia gave him a curious look. "What of it?"

"It occurs to me that such men are not the only ones who have access to extremely personal information. There are other people stationed in many of the best households who come to know things that are very private."

Amelia studied him intently. "You refer to servants? I do not believe this blackmail is the work of a servant."

"I agree," Iphiginia said quickly. "Whoever is behind this feels at home in Society. Do not forget he was aware of your personal plans for a month in the country, sir."

"And that business with the phoenix seal indicates some familiarity with classical subjects," Amelia added. "A servant would be unlikely to make such associations."

"Ale notes are written with a fine, well-trained hand," Iphiginia put in. "We all agreed in the beginning that the writing is well formed and the language of the notes indicated an educated intellect."

Marcus looked at her. "A governess or a companion would have such a background."

Iphiginia and Amelia stared at him with startled expressions.

"Good lord," Amelia whispered. "He's right, Iphiginia. Governesses and companions occupy a place somewhere between the servants' quarters and the drawing room. They are as well educated as their employers and yet they remain as unnoticed as the servants in most households."

Iphiginia leaped upon the possibilities. "And while she would not go to balls and soirees, a governess or companion would have access to the most intimate details of the lives of her employers. She would hear things and see things."

Marcus frowned. "My hypothesis would mean that we are searching for a woman who would know the most intimate secrets of at least two households."

"Someone who worked in Aunt Zoe's household at one time 'and then in your friend's household." Iphiginia looked at Marcus. "How old is your friend's secret, my lord?"

Marcus hesitated, debating how much he could divulge without betraying Hannah's confidence. "The events for which she is being blackmailed occurred seven years ago. I believe you mentioned that your aunt's secret dates back eighteen years?"

"Yes." Iphiginia moved one hand back and forth along the scrolled arm of the sofa. "It is an interesting theory, my lord, but I doubt that we shall discover that the same woman worked in both households."

"Still, it's worth looking into," Marcus said. "My hypothesis is a good deal more sound than your own. That business of rummaging. through gentlemen's desks in search of a black wax and seal never did make much sense to me." Iphiginia glared at him. "I disagree, sir. My theory is infinitely more reasonable and logical than yours. And unlike yours, it has some supporting evidence. After all, we have established that there are a handful of men who are connected to both your circle and Guthrie's. Your notion, on the other hand, is pure conjecture."

"It may he unproven," Marcus said, "but it has a great deal more to recommend it than yours does."

"That's not true. Furthermore, I would like to point out-"

Amelia held up a hand for silence. "Once again, may I request that we avoid these useless squabbles? They do not do us any good."

Marcus smiled coolly. "Miss Farley, you are the voice of common sense. Iphiginia is not thinking clearly tonight. Only to be expected, considering what she has been through."

"I resent that," Iphiginia said. "My thinking is every bit as clear as your own, Masters."

"You must admit that our areas of expertise differ somewhat," Marcus said politely. "Yours is in the field of classical antiquities, a subject far removed from what we are dealing with here. My own interests, on the other hand, have always been of a scientific and technical nature. In the pursuit of those interests I have obviously had occasion to develop the skills of reason and logic more fully than you have."

Iphiginia bounced up off the sofa. "Of all the arrogant, condescending, presumptuous things to say."

"Please," Amelia be ed. "If the two of you do not stop this idiotic quarreling, we shall never get anywhere."

"I could not be more in agreement," Marcus said smoothly. "We shall proceed in a logical fashion. As I said, I'll have Barclay make inquiries into the ownership of that sepulchral grotto in Reeding Cemetery as soon as he returns to Town. In the meantime, you will ask your aunt if she had a companion in her employ several years ago who might have suspected her secret. I shall ask my friend the same question."

"Hmm," Iphiginia muttered. Marcus ignored her fulminating gaze. "We shall see what we learn from that avenue of inquiry. In the meantime, I think it would he best to remove you from London for a few days, madam."

"Certainly not." Iphiginia was outraged. "Why would I wish to leave London? I have far too much to do here."

Marcus shook his head. "The blackmailer is obviously becoming more dangerous. His actions tonight indicate that he is not above harming you."

"He didn't harm me. He merely gave me something of a scare."

"His lordship is right." Amelia clasped her hands together in her lap. "His note says quite clearly that locking you in the grotto was a warning, Iphiginia. Who knows what he will do next?"

"Precisely," Marcus said. "I think it would he best for me to keep a close eye on Iphiginia until Barclay has had an opportunity to make a few inquiries."

"Rubbish," Iphiginia said. Amelia ignored her. She gazed intently at Marcus. "And just how do you propose to do that, my lord?"

Marcus ran through the very short list of possibilities in his head. "I suppose Iphiginia could return to her home in the country for a while."

"Absolutely not, " Iphiginia said very loudly. "Utterly impossible. I will not go home and that is final."