Sir Ralph stiffened.

The unknown lady blushed. "How do you do?" she said, taking in both Arabella and Sir Ralph in her glance. "I'm Harriet Jenkins," she explained helpfully to Arabella, then, turning to Sir Ralph, said,

"Hello, Ralph," in quite the most wistful tone Arabella had ever heard.

Under Arabella's interested gaze, Sir Ralph became tongue-tied. He perforce bowed over the small

hand held out to him and managed to say, "Mr. Jenkins's estates border mine."

Arabella's eyes switched to Harriet Jenkins. "My father," she supplied.

Sir Ralph suddenly discovered someone he had to exchange a few words with and precipitately left

them. Arabella looked down into Miss Jenkins's large eyes, brown, of course, and wondered. "Have

you lately come to town, Miss Jenkins?"

Harriet Jenkins drew her eyes from Sir Ralph's departing figure and dispassionately viewed the beauty before her. What she saw in the frank hazel eyes prompted her to reply, "Yes. I was…bored at home.

So my father suggested I come to London for a few weeks. I'm staying with my aunt, Lady Cottesloe."

Arabella was only partly satisfied with this explanation. Candid to a fault, she put the question in her

mind. "Pardon me, Miss Jenkins, but are you and Sir Ralph…?"

Miss Jenkins's wistfulness returned. "No. Oh, you're right in thinking I want him. But Ralph has other ideas. I've known him from the cradle, you see. And I suppose familiarity breeds contempt." Suddenly realizing to whom she was speaking, she blushed and continued, "Not that I could hope to hold a candle to the London beauties, of course."

Her suspicions confirmed, Arabella merely laughed and slipped an arm through Miss Jenkins's. "Oh, I shouldn't let that bother you, my dear." As she said the words, it occurred to her that, if anything, Sir Ralph was uncomfortable and awkward when faced with beautiful women, as evidenced by his

behaviour with either herself or Amanda. It was perfectly possible that some of his apparent conceit would drop away when he felt less threatened; for instance, in the presence of Miss Jenkins.

Miss Jenkins had stiffened at Arabella's touch and her words. Then, realizing the kindly intent behind them, she relaxed. "Well, there's no sense in deceiving myself. I suppose I shouldn't say so, but Ralph

and I were in a fair way to being settled before he took this latest notion of looking about before he

made up his mind irrevocably. I sometimes think it was simply fear of tying the knot that did it."

"Very likely," Arabella laughingly agreed as she steered Miss Jenkins in the direction of her sisters.

"My papa was furious and said I should give him up. But I convinced him to let me come to London,

to see how things stood. Now, I suppose, I may as well go home."

"Oh, on no account should you go home yet awhile, Miss Jenkins!" said Arabella, a decided twinkle in

her eye. "May I call you Harriet? Harriet, I'd like you to meet my sisters."

The advent of Harriet Jenkins caused a certain amount of reworking of the Twinnings' plan for Sir

Ralph. After due consideration, she was taken into their confidence and willingly joined the small

circle of conspirators. In truth, her appearance relieved Arabella's mind of a nagging worry over how

she was to let Sir Ralph down after Amanda accepted Mr. Minchbury, who, under the specific guidance of Lizzie, was close to popping the question. Now, all she had to do was to play the hardened flirt and turn Sir Ralph's bruised ego into Harriet's tender care. All in all, things were shaping up nicely.

However, to their dismay, the Twinnings found that Mrs. Crowbridge was not yet vanquished. The

news of her latest ploy was communicated to them two days later, at Beckenham, where they had

gone to watch a balloon ascent. The intrepid aviators had yet to arrive at the field, so the three

Twinnings had descended from their carriage and, together with the Misses Crowbridge and Miss

Jenkins, were strolling elegantly about the field, enjoying the afternoon sunshine and a not inconsiderable amount of male attention. It transpired that Mrs. Crowbridge had invited Sir Ralph to pay a morning call and then, on the slightest of pretexts, had left him alone with Amanda for quite twenty minutes. Such brazen tactics left them speechless. Sir Ralph, to do him justice, had not taken undue advantage.

"He probably didn't have time to work out the odds against getting Arabella versus the benefits of Amanda," said Sarah with a grin. "Poor man! I can almost pity him, what with Mrs. Crowbridge

after him as well."

All the girls grinned but their thoughts quickly returned to their primary preoccupation. "Yes, but," said Lizzie, voicing a fear already in both Sarah's and Arabella's minds, "if Mrs. Crowbridge keeps behaving like this, she might force Sir Ralph to offer for Amanda by tricking him into compromising her."

"I'm afraid that's only too possible," agreed Harriet. "Ralph's very gullible." She shook her head in such

a deploring way that Arabella and Sarah were hard put to it to smother their giggles.

"Yes, but it won't do," said Amanda, suddenly. "I know my mother. She'll keep on and on until she succeeds. You've got to think of some way of…of removing Sir Ralph quickly."

"For his sake as well as your own,'' agreed Harriet. "The only question is, how?"

Silence descended while this conundrum revolved in their minds. Further conversation on the topic was necessarily suspended when they were joined by a number of gentlemen disinclined to let the opportunity of paying court to such a gaggle of very lovely young ladies pass by. As His Grace of Twyford's curricle was conspicuously placed among the carriages drawn up to the edge of the field, the behaviour of said gentlemen remained every bit as deferential as within the confines of Almack's, despite the sylvan setting.

Mr. Mallard was the first to reach Lizzie's side, closely followed by Mr. Swanston and Lord Brookfell.

Three other fashionable exquisites joined the band around Lizzie, Amanda, Alice and Harriet, and within minutes an unexceptionable though thoroughly merry party had formed. Hearing one young gentleman allude to the delicate and complementary tints of the dresses of the four younger girls as "pretty as a posy," Sarah could not resist a grimace, purely for Arabella's benefit. Arabella bit hard on her lip to stifle her answering giggle. Both fell back a step or two from the younger crowd, only to fall victim to their

own admirers.

Sir Humphrey Bullard, a large man of distinctly florid countenance, attempted to capture Arabella's undivided attention but was frustrated by the simultaneous arrival of Mr. Stone, sleekly saturnine, on

her other side. Both offered their arms, leaving Arabella, with a sunshade to juggle, in a quandary. She laughed and shook her head at them both. "Indeed, gentlemen, you put me to the blush. What can a

lady do under such circumstances?"

"Why, make your choice, m'dear," drawled Mr. Stone, a strangely determined glint in his eye.

Arabella's eyes widened at this hint that Mr. Stone, at least, was not entirely happy with being played

on a string. She was rescued by Mr. Humphrey, irritatingly aware that he did not cut such a fine figure

as Mr. Stone. "I see the balloonists have arrived. Perhaps you'd care to stroll to the enclosure and

watch the inflation, Miss Arabella?"

''We'll need to get closer if we're to see anything at all," said Sarah, coming up on the arm of Lord Tulloch.

By the time they reached the area cordoned off in the centre of the large field, a crowd had gathered.

The balloon was already filling slowly. As they watched, it lifted from the ground and slowly rose to hover above the cradle slung beneath, anchored to the ground by thick ropes.