Iphiginia was seized with a sense of panic. "Such as?" Marcus's amber eyes gleamed. "Such as a certain academy for young ladies, a village called Deepford, and a sister who is married to the son of the most important family in the neighborhood. In short, Iphiginia, I know everything."

She felt as though she'd had the wind knocked out of her. She sank slowly back down into her chair. "How did you discover so much about me?"

"That is not important. What is important is that if I was able to learn the truth, others can and no doubt will eventually discover it, also."

Iphiginia was dazed by his blunt revelations. He had learned so much in such a short period of time. It was unnerving. "Sir, I believe you are telling me this because you are about to present me with a choice of two options.»

He cocked a brow. "Two?"

"Yes." She raised her chin. "You are going to tell me that I must either leave Town immediately before anyone else stumbles onto the truth or else I shad have to consider an offer of marriage from you. Is that not right?"

"You are wrong, Iphiginia."

She looked at him with renewed hope. "I am?" "Under the circumstances, there is only one option, not two. That option is marriage."

"Never," Iphiginia said loudly, resolutely, and so forcefully that she knew Marcus could not possibly guess that her heart was breaking. "Absolutely impossible. Out of the question. The entire notion cannot even be considered."

Marcus smiled grimly. "One of the most interesting things I have learned in the course of my scientific studies is that there are very few things which are impossible."

YOU AND YOUR BLOODY RULES," IPHIGINIA SAID FIERCELY.

She leaned forward and planted both of her hands flat on her desk. Her eyes were brilliant with outrage. "That's what this is all about, is it not? You believe that you broke one of your damnable rules and therefore you have to pay the price."

"Calm yourself, Iphiginia. You are becoming overwrought."

"I will not calm myself and I will not be married because of Masters's Rules. Do you hear me, sir?"

"I hear you." Marcus set his jaw and kept his face impassive as he refolded his tea-stained handkerchief. It occurred to him that, what with one thing and another, he spent a great deal of time mopping up tea in Iphiginia's study. "But I do not believe that you have given the matter due consideration."

"Do not lecture me as though I were a schoolgirl, sir. I am a rational, educated, intelligent woman, not a foolish child. Of course I gave the matter proper consideration."

She would fight him every inch of the way. Anger flared in Marcus as he realized just how difficult his task would be. "You call masquerading as a notorious widow and my mistress the action of a rational, educated, intelligent woman?"

"You were not nearly so scathing about my masquerade before you discovered that I was not a widow. In fact, if memory serves, you were quite willing to go along with the plan. You rather liked the notion of having a new and unusual mistress, did you not, sir?"

"That was before we took a midnight tour of Pettigrew's Temple of Vesta and discovered that the damn antiquity was so authentic there was still a Vestal Virgin hanging about the place."

She looked desperate now. "Marcus, that is a very minor detail. You must not let it influence your actions."

"I shall be the judge of what influences my actions." "Damnation, sir, nothing has changed."

"That's not true. One element of this farce has, most certainly changed."

"It's not a farce." She glared at him. "It was a very clever scheme which has every chance of producing results. Society still believes me to he a widow and it is convinced that I am your mistress. Every element of the plan remains intact'

"But for how long?" "For as long as we wish," she retorted. "No one other than yourself has questioned my authenticity."

"It's only a matter of time before someone else decides to go to Devon to ask a few questions."

"Nonsense. Why would anyone bother? My lord, let us have some honesty here. The real reason you are being so — difficult about this is because you feel that you broke one of your own rules."

"I am well aware that you do not think much of my rules, but I have lived by them for a long while and I do not violate them for the sake of convenience."

Marcus, listen to me. I have a deep and abiding respect for your rules and the sense of honor that inspires them. But 'm this instance, you did not violate your rules.»

"No? I seem to recall quite clearly that I was the man who lay between your thighs two nights ago. Am I mistaken?"

Iphiginia's eyes widened in shock. The bright flags in her cheeks turned a darker shade of red. "There is no excuse for vulgarity," she said quite primly.

"You sound like a bloody schoolmistress."

"I am a bloody schoolmistress. Or, rather, I was at one time. I repeat, my lord, you did not violate your precious rules., I did. That makes all the difference, don't you see?"

"No," Marcus said.

"You're not responsible for what happened. I am." I

"Don't try to twist the logic of this situation. It is perfectly straightforward.»

"But Marcus, you cannot marry me and you know it." "Why not?"

She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Because in the eyes of Society I'm the mistress of the most notorious man in London, namely you, my lord."

"So?"

"We both know that a man in your position does not marry his mistress."

Marcus flattened his hands on the surface of the desk and met, Iphiginia eye to eye. "I make my own rules. Never forget that."

She blinked, straightened, and took a hasty step back. "But surely in a matter such as this-"

"In everything, Iphiginia."

"I am not overly fond of rules, sir." "That has become quite obvious."

She took another step back and came up against her chair. "I was obliged to live by the rules of others for too many years. I find it very depressing to the spirits. I thought that you, of all people, would comprehend my desire to be free."

"Free? Christ, Iphiginia, none of us is ever truly free. We an live by a set of rules, whether it he our own or someone else's. If you haven't reasoned that out for yourself yet, you are far more naive than you pretend to be."

Her chin came up proudly. "Very well, then. If I must have a set of rules, I shall do as you do, sir. I shall make up my own."

"And, pray, just what do your rules have to say about the situation in which you presently find yourself"

"They say that I am not obliged to marry any man. To he perfectly frank, sir, I do not see any great benefit to the married state for a female. Indeed, I do not even see the appeal of the marital embrace. From what I could deduce the other night, it is not nearly as thrilling as the poets would have one believe."

Marcus felt as though he had taken a pugilist's blow in his gut. He felt himself turn a dull red. "I told you, that was my fault. I was clumsy and hasty."

"Oh, Marcus." The fire of battle vanished from Iphiginia's eyes. She rushed around the edge of the desk. "You mustn't blame yourself for that; too. It was not your fault. It was mine." "Yours?" Marcus stared at her uncomprehendingly as she flew toward him. It struck him belatedly that she was going to throw herself into his arms.

"Yes, of course. What happened the other night was of my instigation. I misled you. I knew all about your silly rule against getting involved with inexperienced females, but I wanted you to make love to me. I encouraged you, sir. Indeed, I practically begged you to do so."

"Iphiginia-" Iphiginia landed against him with a soft thud. He caught hold of her and held her close before she could change her mind.