"I do not need a wealthy man to take care of me. In case you have not paid attention, Bennet, I control a rather handsome fortune of my own." "Maybe it's the title you're after." "I assure you, gaining a title is the least of my concerns. I value my freedom and my rights as an independent widow far too highly to surrender them for a mere title.»

"Then just what sort of rules do you abide by, Mrs. Bright?"

"There is only one that need concern you. I have an ironclad rule which states that I will never, ever marry a man who does not love me. And as your brother has never once said that he loves me, it does not require any great intellect to perceive that Masters is perfectly safe from me."

Bennet stared at her. "Mrs. Bright-" "Begone, sir. I hate discussions of rules. I wish to be left alone." Iphiginia spun around on her heel and rushed toward the steps that led down into the garden.

She ran straight into Marcus, who had just emerged from behind a hedge.

"Ooph." Iphiginia staggered and lost her balance as she crashed against his broad chest.

Marcus steadied her while he looked at his brother. "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Iphiginia's head came up quickly when she beard the dangerous edge of steel in his voice. " 'Tis nothing of any great import, sir. Your brother was merely concerned for your future well-being, just as you are concerned for his."

"My brother will keep his opinions on the subject to himself," Marcus said. "Is that understood, Bennet?"

"She will make a fool of you, if you allow her to do so, " Bennet said savagely. "She is infinitely more clever than Nora. Can you not see that?"

"Any idiot can see it. It's one of the reasons I intend to wed her," Marcus said. "I cannot abide brainless females."

"You cannot possibly expect to turn her into a countess, Marcus. She would he a disgrace to the title."

In spite of her desire to put an end to the dreadful scene, Iphiginia took umbrage at that remark. "Now hold on one moment here, Mr. Cloud. Your brother was a farmer, a man who worked with his hands for years before he came into the earldom. He has managed very nicely with a title. I assure you I would have no trouble at all playing the part of a countess, if I so chose."

"Quite right," Marcus murmured. "This is ridiculous," Bennet snapped. "You are the one who is behaving in a ridiculous fashion," Marcus said. "Now take yourself off before I lose my temper."

"This is beyond anything. I can only pray that you told me the truth about your own rules, Mrs. Bright, and that you will have the decency to get out of my brother's life." Bennet whirled and stalked back toward the ballroom.

"You go too far, brother." Marcus made to ease Iphiginia out of his path. She panicked and seized hold of the lapels of his finely cut coat.

"Marcus, no. I do not want you and your brother quarreling because of me."

"Do not concern yourself, my dear. I shall deal with Bennet."

"Bloody bell, Marcus, I vow, if you go after him, I shall leave Town this very night."

He paused, frowning. "What are you saying?" "I mean it, my lord. I will not allow you to stage a scene with Bennet because of me. He was doing no more than what you tried to do when you learned that he wished to marry Miss Dorchester. He was attempting to protect you.»

"He is behaving like a pompous little prig. Who the devil does he think he is?"

"He is your brother and he is terrified that you are about to make a horrendous mistake. Does that sound familiar, Marcus? You were behaving in precisely the same manner just yesterday."

"It is hardly the same thing." "It is precisely the same thing." Sensing that she had won the small battle, at least for the moment, Iphiginia stepped back. "Come, my lord. Let us take a walk in the garden. I find I am in need of fresh air."

Marcus hesitated, clearly torn. He gazed at the open glass doors of the ballroom, then shrugged and took Iphiginia's arm. "Very well."

Iphiginia heaved a silent sigh of relief. Disaster had been averted for the moment, she thought, but sooner or later it would strike. She could feel it looming over her head.

She had hoped that she would have the remainder of the Season in which to savor the love of her life, but it seemed that such was not to be the case. She could not allow Marcus's relationship with his brother to be ruined because of her.

The time had come to think about leaving Town.

"What would you say if I were to suggest that we take an extended tour of America?" Iphiginia said to Amelia the following morning at breakfast.

Amelia looked up from the morning papers. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"But there are no classical antiquities in America. Everything there is new. I have heard that the people live in little wooden houses of the most primitive sort."

"Rustic, primitive ruins can be quite inspiring, artistically speaking."

"Rubbish." Amelia folded the newspaper, set it aside, and regarded Iphiginia with a perceptive gaze. "Are you thinking of running away from this affair in which you find yourself embroidered?"

"The thought has crossed my mind." "Need I remind you that it is not so simple as all that? We are in the middle of arranging the finances for Bright Place. We cannot deal with the details of such a large project if we are in America. It takes weeks to get a message across the Atlantic."

Iphiginia sighed. "I suppose you are right."

"If You wish to remove yourself from the situation, I suggest we retire to Deepford."

"Never." Iphiginia shuddered at the thought. "The wilds of America would he preferable to the suffocating rules of Deepford. I shall never go back,"

"Then you must think of another place." Amelia reached for the coffeepot. "My this sudden panic? I was under the impression you believed that you were in control of the situation."

"Things are getting out of hand," Iphiginia muttered. "In what way?" Amelia's eyes widened in sudden concern. "Good heavens, you aren't pregnant, are you?" Iphiginia stilled. "No, of course not." At least, I don't think so. Iphiginia crossed her fingers in her lap.

Amelia frowned. "I imagine that Masters, being a man of the world, is cautious in such matters."

"Uh, yes." Iphiginia picked up a spoon and stirred her coffee very rapidity. "Yes, of course."

"Tell me, does he employ those odd French apparatuses fashioned from sheep gut? The ones the Italian countess told us about?"

«Amelia.»

"I have always been rather curious to see one." Amelia looked at her with brief interest. "The countess also mentioned that a woman could use a small sponge soaked in some astringent liquid."

"I really do not want to discuss this at the breakfast table, Amelia."

«Oh.» Amelia shrugged. "Some other time, perhaps." "Perhaps." Right after she had discussed the subject with Marcus, Iphiginia thought grimly. He had never once mentioned the possibility of pregnancy. And she, heaven help her, had never given the matter much thought.

An image of herself holding Marcus's babe in her arms formed in her mind. It was such an intensely powerful vision that she caught her breath with a sense of wonder.

The infant would have miniature versions of his father's fine, strong hands. He would have his father's brilliant, intelligent amber eyes and broad forehead.

He would be beautiful and she would love him as much as she loved his father.

"Iphiginia? Did you hear what I said?"

Iphiginia blinked and brought herself back to reality. "I beg your pardon?"

"I suggested that if you are concerned about your association with Masters, we might consider removing ourselves to Bath. I have always wanted to take the waters."

"I shall consider the notion." Iphiginia set her spoon precisely on the saucer. "Won't you miss being able to work so closely with Mr. Manwaring?"