Seated on a chintz sofa in a small room that overlooked one of the castle terraces, Prudence frowned intently over the lines she was at­tempting to memorize.

She had secluded herself in the quiet room half an hour earlier and had worked very hard on her part. But she was coming to the conclusion that acting was rather more difficult than she had antici­pated.

The short play was to be staged later in the evening. She was to act the role of Elisa, a young woman whose parents were about to an­nounce her engagement to the mysterious Lord Braxton. Terrified of the match, Elisa was poised to run off with charming, handsome Ger­ald. Prudence personally thought Elisa had chosen the wrong man.

She tried the lines aloud. "Flee. Flee at once. You must not be discovered here with me."

"Have no fear, my darling," Edward, Lord Underbrink, said from the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder and then stepped quickly into the room. "It is quite safe."

"Edward." Prudence looked up in astonishment.

"Yes, it is I, my dearest." He closed the door behind him and gave her a conspiratorial smile. "The ladies are all upstairs resting before dinner and the gentlemen are with Curling in his library."

"What are you doing here? Do you have a role in the play?"

"No, my dearest Prudence, I am here because I must speak with you." Edward crossed the room swiftly and went down on his knee in front of her. He grasped one of her hands in both of his. "My darling, I have longed to see you alone."

Prudence tried unobtrusively to free her hand and failed. "Why?"

"Because there is so much to explain." Edward kissed the hand he had seized. "You must believe me when I say that I have never forgot­ten that magical summer in Dorset."

"Which summer? We have had several, you know. We get one every year, in fact."

"Such a charming wit, my dear. But there is only one summer that lives on in my heart, my dearest Prudence." Edward's eyes filled with emotion. "And that is the summer I met you. I cannot believe you have forgotten what we meant to each other."

"Edward, if you don't mind, I really must concentrate on learning my lines." Prudence tried to tug her hand out of his grasp once more.

Edward held on to his prize. "You cannot know how I felt when I saw you again in the park the other day. The sight of you brought back all of the memories. My life has been so empty without you, my dearest."

"Edward, you are married. You can hardly say that your life is empty."

"But it is. I am so lonely, my darling. You must know that my marriage is a loveless match. I was forced into it for the sake of my family and the title. But my wife does not understand my needs."

Prudence began to grow irritated. "Apparently I did not under­stand them, either, my lord. Had I done so, I would have realized sooner that you were merely amusing yourself with me that summer in Dorset."

"My dearest, nothing could be further from the truth. Only the most stringent sense of family duty forced me to leave you. I had no choice, my love."

"You could have told me at the start of the summer that you were not free to love where you chose," Prudence said bluntly. "I did not appreciate being the last to know."

"Forgive me, I could not bear to tell you." Edward rained kisses on her palm. "I confess that the time I had with you was stolen time, my dearest. It was all I could give you. All I could give myself. And it was not enough for either of us, was it?"

"Actually, I believe it was quite enough for me," Prudence said.

Edward smiled sadly. "You cannot hide your true feelings from me, Prudence. I know that your love for me was too fine and too pure to ever be extinguished."

"I fear it was not quite that fine or that pure because it seems to have gone out like a candle."

"Then I shall devote myself to reigniting the embers which I know must be glowing somewhere inside you," Edward vowed.

Prudence wondered fleetingly how she could ever have taken Ed­ward seriously that summer in Dorset. Of course, she reminded her­self, she had been three years younger then. And she had not yet met Sebastian.

"I do not think that Angelstone will appreciate your efforts," Pru­dence said dryly.

"Angelstone. That devil." Edward tightened his grip on her hand. "I cannot believe you are to marry the Fallen Angel himself. You are a woman of warmth and sunshine. It pains me to think of you trapped in the arms of such a cold man."

Prudence frowned. "Angelstone is not in the least cold."

"They say he has ice in his veins."

"Nonsense," Prudence said briskly. "He has acted as if he did for so long that I daresay he believes it himself. He has acting talent in his blood, you know. But he most assuredly does not have ice in his veins."

Edward gave her a pitying glance. "My dear, you are too kind-hearted. You do not understand how dangerous Angelstone really is. For the sake of what we once shared, you must listen to me. You must not allow yourself to be carried off by the Lord of the Underworld."

"I am afraid that I have every intention of carrying her off, Under-brink," Sebastian said from the doorway. His voice was dangerously soft and very, very cold. "So I would advise you to release my fiancee's hand at once."

Edward dropped Prudence's hand as though it had singed him. He jumped to his feet. "Angelstone."

Prudence smiled at Sebastian. "Hello, Angelstone. I did not hear you come in."

"Obviously." Sebastian lounged in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He kept his attention on Edward. "What is going on here?"

"Playacting, my lord," Prudence said gently. "Nothing more. Is that not right, Lord Underbrink?"

Edward flushed. "Yes," he stammered. "Playacting. I was helping Prudence—I mean, Miss Merryweather—practice her lines."

"Flee," Prudence murmured in her best dramatic accents. "Flee at once. I do not require your assistance, sir. Angelstone can help me memorize my lines."

"Yes, of course." Edward ran a finger underneath the edge of his snugly knotted cravat. "If you will excuse me, Miss Merryweather."

"Good-bye, Lord Underbrink."

Edward went toward the door with an uneasy expression. It was clear that he was not entirely certain Sebastian would move. At the last moment Sebastian stepped lazily aside. Edward sidled quickly past him and fled.

Sebastian arched a brow at Prudence. "Playacting?"

"Yes, and do you know, Angelstone, I have discovered that acting is very hard work."

"That's what my mother always said."

"I do not understand how those of us in the cast will ever manage to learn our lines by this evening."

"Most of the cast won't bother." Sebastian came toward her. "They will simply read them on stage."

"Oh, dear. Am I wasting my time, do you think?" Prudence smiled ruefully. "It is really a.very silly play."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is all about a lady who is engaged to a very interesting man named Lord Braxton. But she foolishly believes herself in love with an extremely weak-brained creature named Gerald. If I were her, I would say farewell to Gerald and then I would allow myself to be carried off by the mysterious Lord Braxton."

"Would you, indeed?" Sebastian drew her to her feet and framed her face in his hands.

"Definitely." She held her breath, wondering if he was going to kiss her. "That is exactly what I would do."

"I am delighted to hear it." He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. "Now, then, would you like some help learning your lines?"

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all. Acting is in my blood, you know."

Later that night Prudence dismissed the harried maid who had been assigned to her as well as several other ladies and began to pace the floor of her bedchamber. Silence had fallen over Curling Castle. The guests had all retired to their bedrooms after an evening of ama­teur theatrics, cards, and drinking.