"Yes, but marriage?" She had not expected this. She stared at him in shock, trying frantically to focus without the aid of her spectacles. "Sebastian, are you serious?"

"I assure you, I have never been more serious in my life."

Joy leaped to life within her. It was instantly tempered with cau­tion. She was well aware that she amused Sebastian. He found her interesting and obviously he felt some degree of passion for her. But thus far he had said nothing about being in love with her. He had not even said the words while in the act of making love to her.

"Do you truly believe we would suit, Sebastian?"

"I can think of no one who would suit me better," he said.

"Yes, well." She cast about for a way of eliciting the answer she wanted. "I am, of course, extremely honored, my lord."

"Good. Then the matter is settled," Sebastian said brusquely. "I shall see about securing a special license in the morning. Lady Pem­broke can be a witness."

Panic seized Prudence. "As I said, I am deeply honored. And I can quite understand that it would be more efficient to conduct an affair within a marriage. But I am not certain that efficiency is a valid reason for such a permanent entanglement."

"There are a number of other logical reasons for a marriage be­tween us," Sebastian said very coolly.

"There are?"

Prudence reached for her spectacles and adjusted them on her nose. "Perhaps you would care to name a few of them?"

He gave her his most arrogant, most superior sort of smile. "As you wish, although I would have thought them obvious. You are a very passionate female, Prue. That is important to me, as I have certain physical desires which need to be addressed from time to time—"

Prudence could not bear to hear their mutual passion described in such a casual manner. "Go on with your list."

"Yes, of course. In addition to a, uh, healthy approach to such matters, we have several mutual intellectual interests."

"That is very true," she admitted.

"In short, you will not bore me, my sweet." He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. "And I shall endeavor not to bore you."

"You could never do that," she said quickly.

"I should also like to point out that living together as man and wife will greatly facilitate our investigations. We shall be able to advise each other and to study each other's methods much more efficiently if we are under the same roof."

"Yes, I can see that." But her sense of uneasiness grew stronger. She sought carefully for the right words. "Nevertheless, do you think mutual interests and a… a certain degree of warmth between us will form a sufficient foundation for marriage?"

He looked surprised at the question. "I cannot think of a better foundation."

"Some might say that love would be a nice addition to the list," she whispered tentatively.

"Love?" His eyes narrowed in disapproval, as if she had not only startled him but also disappointed him. "Come, now, Prue, surely you are not the victim of a romantic nature. I refuse to credit the notion that an intelligent, perceptive, very clever female such as yourself is foolish enough to believe in something as vague and illusory as love."

She swallowed uneasily. "Well—"

"You and I rely on our intellects, not our emotions," he continued ruthlessly. "We unravel mysteries and search for evidence. Our logical brains are not prey to the fevered fancies that excite the likes of Byron and his crowd."

"Granted. Nevertheless—"

"Rest assured, my dear, I have far too much respect for you to allow myself to believe that you actually seek to fall in love before you mature, responsible, intelligent woman such as yourself does not in­dulge in such fancies."

Prudence nearly choked. "Yes, I know, but the thing is, Sebas­tian—"

"After all, there is much less evidence for the existence of love than there is for the existence of spectral phenomena."

"I wouldn't say that, my lord," she argued earnestly. "Love has been the motivating force behind a great many historical occurrences. People commit crimes for love. They are sometimes made ill by it. Surely there is ample evidence to suggest it exists."

"Nonsense. The motivating force you refer to is passion. Or, to be perfectly blunt, lust." He traced the outline of her lips with his finger.

Prudence's spirits sank. "Do you feel some affection for me, Se­bastian?"

"Naturally," he said roughly. "That goes without saying."

"It does?" Affection wasn't love, but one might be able to turn it into love, she told herself optimistically.

"What about you?‘' he asked casually. "Do you feel some degree of affection for me? As distinct from that which you feel toward my hobby, that is?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Yes, definitely. I am really quite fond of you, Sebastian."

"And I am rather fond of you. What more could either of us ask? We are two like-minded people who share mutual intellectual inter­ests and mutual passion. We shall do very well together. Now, then, say that you will marry me as soon as I can make the arrangements."

"Why must we hurry the thing along? Could we not wait and give our mutual affection a chance to mature?" Prudence asked weakly.

"I think that would not only be a waste of time, but also potentially awkward."

"Awkward? How?"

"Surely you know the.answer to that. Use your considerable intelli­gence, Prue. You might very well turn up pregnant after what just transpired between us."

Prudence stared at him as the reality of what he had just said struck her. "Good heavens. I had not thought of that."

"You may be certain I have," Sebastian said flatly. "Having been called a bastard often enough myself, I am not about to have my son

"No, of course not. I quite understand." And she did, Prudence thought.

Sebastian's cold pride and arrogance had caused him to fling the question of his own legitimacy into the very teeth of his family and of society. But that same arrogant pride would make him equally deter­mined that no child of his carried the stigma.

Sebastian looked at her from beneath half-lowered lashes. "Well, then, Prue? Do we have another bargain? Will you marry me?"

Prudence took a deep breath and thrust aside her doubts and hesitations. The risk she was about to take was worth it, she assured herself. She was going to marry the man she loved.

"I will marry you, Sebastian."

Something that might have been relief flared in his eyes. But his voice remained cool and even slightly amused, as usual. "An emi­nently logical, rational decision, my sweet. I expected no less from you, of course."

"Of course," Prudence muttered. But inside she shivered with hope and dread.

A frightening sense of foreboding wrapped itself around her. She knew that if she was wrong about Sebastian's feelings for her, she had just bargained away her entire future and perhaps her very soul to the Fallen Angel.

Cy en

«J"^ ‘t-^Sour days later Gatrick confronted Sebastian in his fa­vorite club. "So, Angelstone, how is married life?"

Sebastian glanced up from the copy of the Morning Post that he was perusing. He fixed Garrick with a baleful look.

"I have learned a great deal about wives during the past few days," Sebastian said. "You may be interested to know, for instance, that even the most intelligent among them is not always logical in her thinking."

Garrick put down his cup of coffee and grinned. "Squabbling with your lady already? For shame, Angelstone. One would think that at this stage you would still be making an effort to present your best side to Lady Angelstone. Time enough to let her see the real you later."

Sebastian swore softly as he recalled the small but lively scene that had ensued that morning when he had announced over breakfast that • he intended to spend the day visiting tobacconists. Flowers had just finished pouring their tea and had left them alone.