"No," she replied in a careful tone, "not in any unacceptable way."

He looked his question and she continued, "It's just that she's the only lady he pays any attention to at

all. If he's not with Sarah, he either leaves or retires tb the card tables or simply watches her from a distance."

The description was so unlike the Darcy Hamilton he knew that it was on the tip of his tongue to verify they were talking about the same man. A sneaking suspicion that Darcy might, just might, be seriously smitten awoke in his mind. One black brow rose.

They paused briefly to exchange greetings with Lady Jersey, then headed back towards the barouche. Coming to a decision, Max asked, "What's your next major engagement?"

"Well, we go to the first of Almack's balls tomorrow, then it's the Billingtons' ball the next night."

The start of the Season proper. But there was no way he was going to cross the threshold of Almack's.

He had not been near the place for years. Tender young virgins were definitely not on his menu these days. He did not equate that description with Miss Twinning. Nor, if it came to that, to her sisters. Uncertain what to do for the best, he made no response to the information, merely inclining his head

to show he had heard.

Caroline was silent as the curricle retraced its journey. Max's questions had made her uneasy. Lord

Darcy was a particular friend of his-surely Sarah was in no real danger with him? She stifled a small sigh. Clearly, their guardian's attention was wholly concentrated on their social performance. Which, of course, was precisely what a guardian should be concerned with. Why, then, did she feel such a keen sense of disappointment?

They reached the barouche to find Sarah already returned. One glance at her stormy countenance was sufficient to answer Max's questions. It seemed Darcy's plans had not prospered. Yet.

As he handed Caroline to the ground and acknowledged her smiling thanks, it occurred to him she had

not expressed any opinion or interest in his week-long absence. So much for that tactic. As he watched her climb into the barouche, shapely ankles temporarily exposed, he realised he had made no headway during their interlude. Her sister's affair with his friend had dominated his thoughts. Giving his horses

the office, he grimaced to himself. Seducing a young woman while acting as guardian to her three

younger sisters was clearly going to be harder going than he had imagined.

Climbing the steps to Twyford House the next evening, Max was still in two minds over whether he

was doing the right thing. He was far too wise to be overly attentive to Caroline, yet, if he did not make

a push to engage her interest, she would shortly be the object of the attentions of a far larger circle of gentlemen, few of whom would hesitate to attend Almack's purely because they disliked being mooned over by very young women. He hoped, in his capacity as their guardian, to confine his attentions to the Twinning sisters and so escape the usual jostle of matchmaking mamas. They should have learned by now that he was not likely to succumb to their daughters' vapid charms. Still, he was not looking

forward to the evening.

If truth were told, he had been hearing about his wards on all sides for the past week. They had caught the fancy of the ton, starved as it was of novelty. And their brand of beauty always had attraction. But what he had not heard was worrying him more. There had been more than one incident when, entering

a room, he had been aware of at least one conversation abruptly halted, then smoothly resumed. Another reason to identify himself more closely with his wards. He reminded himself that three of them were

truly his responsibility and, in the circumstances, the polite world would hold him responsible for Miss Twinning as well. His duty was clear.

Admitted to Twyford House, Max paused to exchange a few words with Millwade. Satisfied that all

was running smoothly, he turned and stopped, all thought deserting him. Transfixed, he watched the Twinning sisters descend the grand staircase. Seen together, gorgeously garbed for the ball, they were quite the most heart-stopping sight he had beheld in many a year. His eyes rested with acclaim on each

in turn, but stopped when they reached Caroline. The rest of the company seemed to dissolve in a haze

as his eyes roamed appreciatively over the clean lines of her eau-de-Nil silk gown. It clung suggestively

to her ripe figure, the neckline scooped low over her generous breasts. His hands burned with the desire to caress those tantalising curves. Then his eyes locked with hers as she crossed the room to his side,

her hand extended to him. Automatically, he took it in his. Then she was speaking, smiling up at him in her usual confiding way.

"Thank you for coming. I do hope you'll not be too bored by such tame entertainment." Lady Benborough, on receiving Max's curt note informing them of his intention to accompany them to Almack's, had crowed with delight. When she had calmed, she had explained his aversion to the place.

So it was with an unexpected feeling of guilt that Caroline had come forward to welcome him. But,

gazing into his intensely blue eyes, she could find no trace of annoyance or irritation. Instead, she recognised the same emotion she had detected the very first time they had met. To add to her

confusion, he raised her hand to his lips, his eyes warm and entirely too knowing.

''Do you know, I very much doubt that I'll be bored at all?" her guardian murmured wickedly.

Caroline blushed vividly. Luckily, this was missed by all but Max in the relatively poor light of the hall

and the bustle as they donned their cloaks. Both Lady Benborough and Miriam Alford were to go,

cutting the odds between chaperons and charges. Before Max's intervention, the coach would have had

to do two trips to King Street. Now, Caroline found that Augusta and Mrs. Alford, together with Sarah and Arabella, were to go in the Twyford coach while she and Lizzie were to travel with Max. Suddenly suspicious of her guardian's intentions, she was forced to accept the arrangement with suitable grace.

As Max handed her into the carriage and saw her settled comfortably, she told herself she was a fool to read into his behaviour anything other than an attempt to trip her up. He was only amusing himself.

As if to confirm her supposition, the journey was unremarkable and soon they were entering the

hallowed precincts of the Assembly Rooms. The sparsely furnished halls were already well filled with

the usual mix of debutantes and unmarried young ladies, carefully chaperoned by their mamas in the

hope of finding a suitable connection among the unattached gentlemen strolling through the throng. It

was a social club to which it was necessary to belong. And it was clear from their reception that, at

least as far as the gentlemen were concerned, the Twinning sisters definitely belonged. To Max's

horror, they were almost mobbed.

He stood back and watched the sisters artfully manage their admirers. Arabella had the largest court

with all the most rackety and dangerous blades. A more discerning crowd of eminently eligible

gentlemen had formed around Sarah while the youthful Lizzie had gathered all the more earnest of the younger men to her. But the group around Caroline drew his deepest consideration. There were more than a few highly dangerous roués in the throng gathered about her but all were experienced and none

was likely to attempt anything scandalous without encouragement As he watched, it became clear that

all four girls had an innate ability to choose the more acceptable among their potential partners. They