"She is the lady I intend to wed. I told you that I will not tolerate any disrespect."

"But you're the Earl of Masters." Bennet slammed his hand against the mantel. "It's one thing to conduct a liaison with a woman such as Mrs. Bright. It is quite another thing to marry her."

"Give me one good reason why I should not marry her," Marcus challenged.

"One? I can give you a dozen. A man in your position is expected to marry a young lady, not a mature woman. Someone from a good family. Fresh out of the schoolroom. Unstained. Untouched. Your bride should be a respectable innocent-a virgin, to be perfectly blunt-not a notorious widow with whom you have been having an affair.»

"Iphiginia Bright is just the right age for me." Marcus propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. "She is from a good family. She is respectable. You may put the word about that anyone who disagrees with me is free to do so over a pair of dueling pistols."

"Damn it to hell, Marcus, you cannot mean that."

door. "I shall pray that you come to your senses before You do anything so rash as to send word to the papers."

"I would not hold my breath if I were you." "Damn it, this is abominable." Bennet yanked open the door. He turned to glance over his shoulder. "She has done something to your brain, that's what it is. I can only hope that you will recover from this strange fever before it is too late."

"You were the one who feared I might become an automaton if I did not marry soon."

"Mrs. Bright was definitely not what I had in mind as a bride for you." Bennet stomped out into the hall and slammed the door.

Marcus sat quietly for a while. lien he got to his feet and crossed the room to the brandy table. He poured himself another glass and went to stand at the window.

He had done it, he thought. He had taken Iphiginia's advice and violated several of his own rules in the process. Never explain, never discuss the past, never alter a decision or retreat from an objective.

So many rides broken in one night. Perhaps Bennet was right. Iphiginia did seem to have inspired a sort of fever within his brain.

On the other hand, Marcus thought, he no longer felt as though he were turning into a clockwork man.

THE FOLLOWING EVENING ZOE SWOOPED DOWN ON Iphiginia at the Platts' ball. "I have been looking for you all day, my dear. Didn't you get the message I had sent round?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Zoe. Apparently it did not reach me," Iphiginia said placatingly. In point of fact, she had ignored the message that had arrived at the kitchen door earlier that day.

"Have you heard the latest?" Zoe searched her face. "They say that Masters is going to announce his betrothal before the end of the Season."

" London is always rife with gossip, Aunt Zoe. As a connoisseur of rumors, you know that better than most." Iphiginia smiled at Herbert, who was forging a path toward her through the throng. "There is a variety of news at the moment. For instance, I heard that Masters has made it clear that his brother is free to choose his own bride without fear of being cut off."

"Yes, yes, but that hardly matters compared to this other business of his own marriage." Zoe fixed her with a pointed look. "If it's the truth, then Masters has broken one of his most firmly held rules."

"Highly unlikely." Iphiginia watched Herbert draw closer. He saw her and beamed good-naturedly. He carried a glass in one hand.

"I'm not so certain of that." Zoe pursed her lips. "There is a title involved, after all. And a great deal of money. Perfectly natural that a man in his position would come to his senses eventually and do his duty. He is only thirty-six, after all. It's not as though he's got one foot in the grave."

"The title can go to his brother." "Yes, but it's not quite the same thing as having an heir of one's blood, is it? It was bound to come to this, I suppose. But I am so sorry for you, my dear. I know it must he very painful. It's been obvious for days that you've developed a tendre for the man. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, for the moment." Iphiginia turned to Herbert, who had finally reached them. "Ah, some lemonade. I need it. Thank you, Herbert. You are always so thoughtful.

"My pleasure. Whew. What a crush." Herbert gallantly handed her the glass of lemonade and then reached into his pocket for a handkerchief to mop his brow. "Bloody hot in here, is it not?"

"It is a trifle warm." Iphiginia took a sip of lemonade. Herbert folded his handkerchief, "Evening, Lady

Guthrie. Sorry, didn't see you earlier or I would have brought you a glass also."

"Quite all right. I just finished some champagne. Iphiginia and I were discussing the rumors of Masters's forthcoming betrothal."

"Aunt Zoe, please," Iphiginia murmured. "I think we've exhausted the subject."

"Heard all about it at my club," Herbert said helpfully. "The betting books are Idling up all over Town. Everyone's taking a flier on this one."

Zoe frowned. "People are attempting to guess who the bride will be?"

"Yes." Herbert slid Iphiginia an embarrassed glance. 'No one's got a clue. Lot of money on the Chumly chit and a good deal on Elizabeth Anderson, though. Both in their first Seasons. Quite lovely. Good families. Spotless reputations."

Iphiginia was keenly aware of Herbert's increasing discomfort and her aunt's worried gaze. She summoned up a serene smile. "If there is one thing everyone should have learned about Masters by now, it is that there is very little point in attempting to second-guess him."

"Man o' mystery, right enough," Herbert agreed quickly. "Everyone knows that. Enigma. No telling what's going on in his brain."

"It cannot be a complete secret," Zoe said. "Someone other than Masters must know the truth about this situation. After all, there is another party involved."

"You mean the bride?" Herbert's brows bounced up and down several times. "If Masters has sworn her and her family to secrecy until he's ready to announce the engagement, you can be certain they'll keep mum. Wouldn't dare defy his edict. Not if they want to pull off the match of the Season."

"I suppose not," Zoe admitted. "Masters's rules." "Precisely." Herbert smiled at Iphiginia. "I say, Mrs. Bright, would you care to dance?"

"Yes, thank you, Herbert." Anything to terminate the discussion of Marcus's wedding plans, Iphiginia thought. She set her glass down on a passing tray.

Herbert took her arm and led her out onto the floor just as the musicians began to play a waltz. He regarded Iphiginia with an anxious expression as he took her very decorously into his arms.

"I say, is this business of Masters's engagement oversetting you, my dear?"

"Not in the least," Iphiginia said firmly. "Masters and I are very close friends, as you know. I can assure you that the gossip about an engagement is just that. Gossip."

"Forgive me, but I am also your friend, Iphiginia,"

Herbert said gently. "I feel you and I are very much alike in some ways. And while I realize that I do not enjoy the sort of intimate connection with you that Masters does, I am deeply concerned for you."

"That is very kind of you. But there is no need." "The thing is, the man is known to be quite ruthless,

m'dear. He is perfectly capable of marrying this young innocent he's selected to be his wife and then continue to maintain a liaison with you on the side."

"Do not fret."

"Surely you will not countenance such a situation?" Herbert asked rather desperately. "It would be intolerable for a proud, spirited female such as yourself. It would mean that you would have to share him with his wife."

Iphiginia gave him a repressive look. "One always shares one's friends with other people, Herbert."