They had purchased dancing slippers in every shade of lavender and violet, and several pairs of matching gloves. Parcels containing a variety of hats and fans were piled high on the roof of the carriage.

"All in all, this has been an extremely successful day," Hester said with great satisfaction. "Shall we stop for an ice?"

Prudence perked up at that. "Yes, I should enjoy that. And after­ward, I would like to visit one or two shops on this list that the mo­diste gave me."

Hester glanced at the piece of paper in Prudence's hand. "What sort of shopping do you intend to do?"

"I am interested in inquiring about having some buttons especially engraved."

Hester was delighted. "That would certainly make an interesting touch for your riding habits and perhaps your pelisses. What a clever notion."

"I thought so," Prudence said, feeling a trifle smug. "I am looking for someone who does this sort of work. Very fine quality, don't you think?" She reached into her reticule and pulled out the gold button she and Sebastian had found at Curling Castle.

"That looks like the sort of button that would suit a gentleman's waistcoat," Hester said. "What on earth is that engraved on it?"

"I have no idea. The name of a gentleman's club, perhaps. Or it might have some significance to an Evangelical." Prudence casually dropped the button back into her reticule.

"Where did you get it?"

"I found it lying about somewhere," Prudence said easily. "I can­not recall precisely. But I noticed the workmanship and decided I

should like to find the merchant who supplied it to the original owner. If I do, I shall put in a special order for myself."

"I imagine any number of merchants can supply you with engraved buttons. Why bother to search for the one who did that particular button?" Hester asked curiously.

"Because I wish to be assured of getting this quality of workman­ship," Prudence explained smoothly. "Angelstone prefers that his wife wear only the best."

"Very well, my dear. If you wish to spend the rest of the day shopping for buttons, who am I to stop you?"

Shortly after two o'clock Sebastian walked out of the establish­ment of Milway and Gordon, a Bond Street shop that specialized in gentleman's gloves, cravats, and other assorted accoutrements re­quired by men of fashion. He paused to consult the list of merchants his valet had drawn up for him.

Thus far he had visited four shops which claimed to take orders for specially engraved buttons. No one had recognized the button he de­scribed to them.

"Gold, with the phrase The Princes of Virtue engraved on it," he had explained to the shopkeepers. "Suitable for a waistcoat. I should like to duplicate it for a waistcoat of my own."

"Perhaps if his lordship had brought along the button he is at­tempting to duplicate I could say for certain whether or not I have seen its like previously," one shopkeeper suggested. "I am quite posi­tive we could reproduce it. But it would be helpful to see the original button."

Unfortunately a verbal description was all Sebastian could offer the merchants because Prudence had made off with the original but­ton. He'd had one brief glimpse of it gleaming between her gloved fingers before she dropped it into her reticule.

"My turn to investigate, my lord," she had murmured for his ears alone. "This marriage is a partnership, if you will recall, and so is this investigation. I would feel guilty if I did not endeavor to perform my share of the labor."

"Damnation," Sebastian growled. "You know very well that I am going to visit certain shops today. It will not do for both of us to inquire about the same confounded button at the same damn shop."

"You are quite right, my lord." Prudence's eyes flashed with deter­mination. "We must be clever about this, mustn't we? I have it. I shall make my inquiries in the neighborhood of Oxford Street. You may make your inquiries elsewhere. That way we will not be likely to stum­ble across each other at the same establishment."

"Bloody hell, Prue, I will not allow you—"

"Forgive me, my lord. I must be off. My aunt will be waiting for me."

Aware that the presence of the servants in the hall severely limited Sebastian's reaction, Prudence had sailed on past him through the open door to the waiting carriage.

Sebastian had been sorely tempted to go after her and haul her out of the carriage right in front of the servants. It would serve her right. She knew full well he had intended to conduct his own investigation on the button that day.

But something held him back and he knew it wasn't simply the possibility of creating a small domestic scene in front of the household staff. It was something much more fundamental.

He did not wish to rekindle the emotions that had blazed in her last night. Sebastian admitted to himself that he was not certain how to handle Prudence when she was in tears. He had been stunned when she had walked back to her own bedchamber and closed the door in his face.

Sebastian frowned as he refolded the list of merchants. Prudence had overreacted last night, he thought as he started toward his phae­ton. That was the problem. There had been no logic to her emotion.

It was not as if he had married her for the sole purpose of using her as bait to lure the Fleetwoods to their doom.

He was merely going to capitalize on the circumstances of the marriage to achieve a goal that had long been denied him. Where was the harm in that? he wondered. Prudence's overly emotional reaction had taken him by surprise. It was not like her.

Sebastian now came to a halt on the sidewalk as a thought struck him. He had heard that women were subject to strange emotions when they were breeding. Prudence might very well be pregnant. Preg­nant with his babe.

He started to smile in spite of his foul mood. He could see her now, round and ripe with his seed growing inside her. A strange sensa­tion of tenderness swept through him.

He had told himself that once he had bound Prudence to him with the legal ties of marriage and the physical claims of passion, she would be his. He had been right in some ways. But last night he had realized for the first time that the bonds of marriage and passion and even mutual interests might not be enough.

A child would tie Prudence to him in a way that nothing else could, Sebastian thought as a carriage drew to a halt in front of him.

The door of the carriage opened and Curling got out. He nodded at Sebastian and paused on the sidewalk.

"I hesitate to inquire into what is amusing you at the moment, Angelstone. Given your reputation, one can be certain that the source of your entertainment will no doubt be rather unusual. Nevertheless, I am curious."

"It's a private matter. Nothing that would interest you, Curling." Sebastian glanced at the door of the shop where he had just made inquiries. "Do you patronize this establishment?"

"Milway and Gordon have made my gloves for years." Curling examined him with a look of bland curiosity. "I did not know you used them."

"They were recently recommended to me," Sebastian said easily. "Thought I'd give them a try."

"I'm sure you'll be satisfied with their work." Curling started to­ward the door and paused again. "By the way, Angelstone, I played a few hands of cards with your cousin last night."

"Did you?"

"Mr. Fleetwood was in his cups and he did not play well. I won a rather large packet off him. But that is neither here nor there. The thing is, I could not help but notice that he appeared to be in a rather volatile mood. Quite irate, in fact. You, I believe, were the cause."

"That bit of information is not of much interest to me."

"I understand," Curling said quietly. "I know you have never been on the best of terms with your relatives."