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The instant the Honourable Louisa Rainley set eyes upon her friends, Lady Susan and Lord James Haythe, she knew her enjoyment of her London Season was assured.

Louisa was reading by a comfortable fire in the handsomely decorated morning room of Number Five Chapel Street on a chilly, wet March day when her hostess' butler ushered in the twins with a quiet announcement. She jumped to her feet to greet them, her pleasure in her visit to London now complete.

The twins had changed not a whit since the previous October. They were very alike; their fair hair still held a coppery gleam and faint freckles danced across their patrician noses. They were of medium height--James perhaps a little taller than he had been--and slender. Their fine blue eyes danced with wit and intelligence, and their easy, open manners seemed unaltered.

Their arrival was rather like allowing the fresh March wind to blow into the pleasant chamber; one minute all was calm and the next there was a flurry of talk and activity. Louisa was caught up in warm embrace by her taller friend.

"Louisa," squealed Susan, in a most unladylike manner. "Oh, you look so modish, I am quite overcome. Your hair--and your gown--oh, do tell all. Is it as delightful as we imagined? Whom have you met? Anyone remarkably handsome, any libertines, rakes or dukes? Where is our sister?"

As Susan released her, Louisa's hand was seized and shaken by her friend's brother. "Have you been to Astley's?" he asked. "The menagerie? Have you seen Prinny or the Iron Duke?"

Louisa ignored all the questions, voicing rather several of her own. "When did you arrive? How was your journey? Is your mother with you?"

"Mama is not with us, and the journey in the main was boring. Except that Nicholas abandoned us at Chipping Ongar the day before yesterday. He was aggravated past bearing by our bickering, so he said. He hired a horse and rode on alone. After he had gone, we--well, James--found there was a mill occurring nearby the village and so we stopped to see it, and then stayed at an inn over the night." Susan giggled. "We traveled but a short day yesterday and arrived at Cavendish Square in time for a dinner at country hours, four o'clock."

"You never went to the mill!" Louisa exclaimed, round-eyed at her friend's temerity.

"I did, and vastly overrated it was too. In this boring pelisse and bonnet, I attracted no attention whatsoever, and the pugilism was finished in three minutes. It was a knock out. Nicholas was hugely annoyed when we told him of the adventure however, so it was worth it."

Louisa could only shake her head at her friends' treatment of their older brother. They had not altered in that either. It seemed they considered it their duty to drive him to distraction at the earliest opportunity. For her own part she was glad to have Lord Cheriton's name so soon mentioned. With infinite relief she discovered that she heard it with indifference. The youthful infatuation she had developed for him nearly two years previous had certainly died a natural death. Even the distress she had experienced eight months ago--when she had realized the truth of his boring, prosy nature--had faded.

"So have you done nothing yet, Louisa?" James was strolling the room examining whatever took his fancy. Finally he took up a position by the lavishly draped window and stared into the sodden street.

"Of course she has done something; she has been shopping! You have only to look at her to know that. You look delightful, Louisa."

Louisa did a graceful pirouette, displaying her high-waisted, narrow-skirted gown of naccarat-orange muslin and flirting her embroidered silk shawl. The gown was not a traditional colour choice for a young lady making her comeout but it suited her brunette colouring admirably and delighted her with its ruched hem. She patted her cropped glossy brown curls to draw her friends' attention to them; she was very pleased with the way they clustered about her small head and framed her heart-shaped face. "I have seen nothing but shops," she said. "I have been nowhere since we arrived in London three weeks ago but to hairdressers and modistes, and milliners and drapers! Lady Valence has been relentless in her quest for the most up to the minute modes; she declared we mustn't be seen, after being buried for six months in Sussex, before we had improved ourselves."

"It sounds as if Felicity has not changed," Lord James said, speaking of his sister with a snort of disgust. "And she lives in some style." He stared around at the elegant chamber. The townhouse Lord Valence had hired for the Season was appointed in the first stare of fashion. Even the morning room, while less formal than the drawing room abovestairs, was hung with silk, thickly carpeted, and expensively furnished.

"We live comfortably, as I know you will, in Cavendish Square," Louisa pointed out. "And Felicity has altered. She is gentler, if you understand me, more generous. Indeed she has been kindness itself to me."

"Felicity?!" asked Lady Susan. "Good gracious, I thought it odd enough that my sister was willing to chaperone your come out, but she has developed amiability too?"

"Don't be nasty," Louisa said with a twinkle. "You know someone had to see to my debut--I should have been old cattish if it had not soon been arranged--I am twenty next birthday. It is very kind of Lord and Lady Valence. With Robert and Eleonora unable to conduct my comeout, I had need of rescue."

"It is so confusing, our family connection. With your brother married to our sister, and now another of our sisters to sponsor your comeout..." Susan shook her head. "And it is so odd to think of my sisters wed. You must feel the same about your brother. They seem so very old and fusty. I suppose Nicholas will be next."

Again Louisa greeted mention of the marquess with a happy indifference. "I suppose. How is it your mama is not come with you to London?"

James had finally sat down, and he had taken a cheroot from his pocket. He put it in his mouth experimentally.

"James, you took that from Nicholas' box in the library!" Susan accused.

"So what? I am eighteen for lord's sake, not at Harrow any longer," her brother countered sulkily. He answered Louisa's question. "Poor mater: the steward's developed the ague, the village has measles, and there was a chimney fire in the housekeeper's room. Someone must stay, and Nicholas had to come to town for the Parliament. Mama's duty was clear. We were told we would accompany him as had been planned. I think Mama was pleased to be shut of us."

Louisa knew the marchioness well enough to doubt that statement.

Susan confirmed Louisa's belief. "She was not, James, and she will come as soon as she may. But she did think we should travel to town with Nicholas. He is to have some part in introducing us though he's been out of society these five years. Grandmama will do the lion's share, aided by Felicity. Between them, they know everyone, and their complete lineages, I think. They are invited everywhere."

"Grandmama's a dragon, unlike Mama. And Felicity is going to be just like grandmama; perhaps I should mention it to her," James said, shifting the cheroot tentatively.

The girls stared at him with horror. "You would ruin our season before it's begun!" Susan exclaimed.

"Oh very well, I won't. Speaking of our season, what shall we first do? How shall we set about our exploration of London?"

Three pairs of eyes gleamed with speculation and excitement. They had discussed the matter endlessly when they had been together the previous summer.

"Explore the shops," Susan suggested.

"Pay calls," Louisa said, indicating by her moue of displeasure that she had already seen enough of the emporiums of the metropolis.

"It will be a boring Season if you two intend nothing but shopping and visiting. I have better things in mind," James hinted.

"What sort of things? I suppose you mean gaming hells and lightskirts." His sister was unkind.

"Gaming is for green 'uns and I had rather encounter pretty girls at balls than opera dancers in a green room. No, if I am to go to Cambridge in a few months, I shall have some jollification this season. The morning hours shall be mine, and I think the first thing I shall do is hire a hobby horse."

"You cannot. What will Lord Cheriton and your grandmama say?" Louisa asked. She was in no awe of Nicholas, but his grandmother's disapproval could certainly subdue her high spirits.

"'Tis a harmless enough pursuit. Anyway, they won't know."

"If we rise betimes, Louisa, we may join James. In fact, we might all three enjoy some early morning freedom," Susan said, calculation clearly writ on her pretty face.

"Well, Felicity does not rise until at least eleven o'clock," Louisa offered, intrigued by the possibilities.

"Nick need not worry us. He was closeted with his secretary first thing today, and he'll be off to Parliament or the 'Change or the clubs every morning, I'm sure," James said.

"He has a secretary?" Louisa asked, in distracted surprise.

"Indeed, a sedate chap with Parliamentary ambitions. Just hired..."

"Very earnest, rather sweet but with a deplorable nose," Susan said, rolling her eyes, and dismissing the secretary without another thought. "Shall we do it then? Meet every day for adventure? Better if we are not seen by our households; someone would suggest we were up to mischief. Let me see, we could foregather--perhaps at nine o'clock--at the Park Lane end of Chapel Street, Louisa. Then you have not far to walk alone."

"Yes! We shall have time to do whatever we wish," James said, adding magnanimously, "and tomorrow you may watch me ride the hobby horse." He lit the cheroot with a spill ignited at the fire.

The young ladies exchanged a thoughtful glance.

"I shall do more than watch. You must hire me one also!" Susan said.

"And me. I think the pedestrian curricle shall never replace a good horse, but I should like to try riding one," Louisa added.

"Girls can't ride hobby horses; what of your skirts?" James took a deep pull on the cheroot, and burst into great, choking coughs.

Louisa and Susan laughed derisively. "We shall worry about our skirts. You hire the hobby horses!"

Gasping for air while eyeing the cheroot malevolently, James nodded acquiescence. "Very well, as soon as may be. We shall have to find means to send messages between us. I'll get a boy from the stables."

"My maid is a girl from Wheeling Hall. I have known her forever. She will help..." Louisa offered.

They were still planning when Lady Valence entered her drawing room several minutes later.

She surveyed them from the doorway, the picture of elegance, frowning a little. "Gentlemen don't smoke in the presence of ladies, James. Susan, do sit up straight. Your clothes proclaim you have just left the schoolroom and so does your posture."

"We are happy to see you too, Felicity," James and Susan chorused, rising to bob a bow and curtsey.

Their sister's beautiful face relaxed into a warm smile as she embraced each of them. "I can't imagine introducing you rudesbys to society. The ton will never recover."

"We can only hope..." James said. He collapsed again into a chair and stared at the smouldering end of the cheroot.

Susan was admiring her older sister's morning gown of cerulean blue China crepe and its trimming of silver ribbon with an envious eye. "You look prime, Felicity, and you have turned out Louisa bang up to the mark too. Her hair...and that gown."

Louisa blushed, though no one was looking at her.

"Yes, well, we shall have to do the same for you--and improve your language--" Felicity said, staring at her youngest sister's simple grey pelisse and very plain hat with undisguised disfavour. "And we may as well start now. Louisa, find your bonnet and spencer and have my maid bring mine. Order the carriage. Bustle about now girls; don't keep me waiting." She surveyed her brother's rumpled coat. "James, you must have Nicholas take you to his tailor; tell him I said so."

"Are you going to the shops?" James asked with consternation.

"We are," his elder sister confirmed. "But you are not. You shall go to Grandmama Cheriton's and advise her of your arrival. Tell her we shall all visit her on the morrow, Nicholas as well."

"You sound just like Mama," Susan said admiringly.

"God send we see her soon, and I have not to drag the infantry around too long," Felicity said, with feeling.

"Now you sound like the Felicity we know and love," James said over his shoulder as he strode from the room to take the message to his Grandmother Cheriton.

Felicity, without regard for her standing as the sister of a marquess, and the well-beloved wife of the Baron Valence or for her new position as chaperone, pulled a ferocious face at her younger brother.

The young ladies found that an auspicious introduction to their first excursion together. They quit the house on a gust of laughter that bode well for the Season.

* * *

The party from Chapel Street met with the Haythe twins on the sunny doorstep of their grandmother's home in Brook Street the next day at precisely two of the clock. They had already met in the morning; Felicity had insisted upon an early shopping trip, to pursue the transformation of her younger brother and sister to city-worthy elegance. The three young people had not been impressed by Lady Valence's continued energy about their concerns; they had had to postpone the hiring of hobby horses. And they were worried about the future of their early morning adventures before even they were begun.

Now they exchanged gloomy nods and strained smiles. Lady Valence, who wore an elegant costume of blue velvet and a close bonnet trimmed with a dashing feather, cast a worried eye over them.

Louisa, confident of her smartness in cream poplin with a Cossack green pelisse and a cottage bonnet, could find nothing to dismay her in her friends' appearance. Susan had added a lilac-striped satinet spencer and a new chip-straw bonnet to a white muslin gown her sister had declared passable. James had had time to purchase a new hat and a supply of neckcloths, but he still awaited his trip to the tailor with his elder brother. Nevertheless he looked more than presentable to Louisa's inexperienced eyes.

Louisa and Felicity had been accompanied from Chapel Street on this visit by Felicity's sister-in-law, the Honourable Rebecca Valence. She, Louisa considered, cast them all in the shade, sartorially. She was a willowy young woman of six and twenty with shining coal black hair and eyes of a blue so light as to appear disconcertingly silver. She was gowned in a stunning walking costume of pearl gray trimmed with deep edgings of swansdown. Her Caledonian cap, with its clutch of black feathers, should have looked absurd, but was instead only daring and most becoming.

Careless of convention and confident in her manner, Miss Valence greeted the twins laconically. "Well, you've grown up. A little town bronze and you shall be undetectable from all the other young hopefuls loosed on the ton. Where is Nick?"

The twins took offense and were silent. The question left hanging in the air was one Louisa had wished to ask. Felicity rolled her eyes at her sister-in-law's acerbic greeting of her own siblings and her outrageous use of the marquess' first name, and in a diminutive, but did not hesitate to add to the enquiry. "Yes, where is Nicholas? He also was to come to visit Grandmama."

"He said he had already attended upon Grandmama, and he had an unavoidable meeting with some other peer. He told us to behave...."

"As if we were eight instead of eighteen..." James interpolated with a glowering face.

"And sent us here." Susan smiled brightly, but without sincerity, at her older sister.

"Well, if that is his idea of chaperonage, I can only be happy Mama asked for my assistance. He should be here." Felicity sighed. "Louisa, don't stand about looking indifferent. Apply that knocker..."

Louisa, accustomed to her chaperone's abrupt direction, did as she was bid. The door was opened by an aged footman. An equally superannuated butler appeared in his wake.

"Good day." Lady Valence led her proteges into the entry hall without hesitation. "The dowager is expecting us?"

"Yes, my lady." The old man had a surprisingly youthful voice. "In the drawing room, my lady."

He led the way slowly up the curving oak staircase.

Louisa had to smother a giggle as James mimicked, with merciless accuracy, the butler's stately pace and demeanor. She had forgot her friend's uncanny ability to duplicate the mannerisms and attitudes of those around him.

She straightened her face, as the butler opened the drawing room door and sonorously announced them. Felicity gave them a last, admonishing look.

They filed into the light-filled chamber. The furnishings were old--Louisa suspected they were family pieces of great history from Shardleigh, the Cheriton family estate--but beautifully kept. She cast them only a quick glance; she focused her attention on the pair of ladies seated upright on a sofa near the window that overlooked the busy street.

Louisa had been presented to the dowager, and to her companion, at the first musicale she attended in Felicity's company. She had exchanged no more than pleasantries with her friends' grandmama, however, over the ensuing weeks. She had come to know the dowager's companion rather better, and she smiled warmly now at the middle-aged woman. Then she gave all her attention to her hostess.

Dowager Lady Cheriton was handsomely gowned in lavender silk in a mode that made concession to the latest fashion while being flattering to the unkind demands of aging flesh. Her white hair was partly covered by a cap of remarkably fine lace, and her faded blue eyes assessed them all deliberately.

Louisa found the scrutiny completely unnerving and hung back as the dowager's grandchildren advanced to greet her with respectful bows and courtesies. Even the twins' natural ebullience was subdued and Louisa watched the interchange with close attention.

"All grown up, the pair of you, and ready for the Season?" The old lady scarcely waited for the twins' confirmation. "But is the ton prepared for you? Yes, I recognize the spark of mischief about those angelic faces; you are your father all over again, and he was a hey-go-mad lad in his salad days."

There was a brief, sad silence as the passing of the late marquess was remembered.

"Ah, well, tempus fugit; just see you aren't the death of me." Dowager Lady Cheriton was tart and surprising. She appraised Susan carefully, and announced, "Very much in your mama's style. China shepherdess looks, I call it: all golden curls and big blue eyes. More vivacity than your sisters but less of their natural elegance. You'll take well, my child." She turned to James. "I was sorry not to see you yesterday, young man, when you called, but an old lady must have her naps." She considered her youngest grandson until he reddened. "You, my lad, are prettier than your brother; time will tell if you have his stout character. Don't let the ladies turn your head, for I understand you've pretensions to scholarship, and to be trapped by some snip of a husband-hunter will never do for you."

There was an audible sigh from the twins when her ladyship's attention turned to Louisa.

She plucked up her courage, and met the old lady's gaze with her own frank appraisal.

"Well, Miss Rainley, you're a cool one. You've behaved well at the functions at which I have seen you, and you've been well received. My companion has given a good report of you. Felicity's turned you out to advantage; you're a true nut-brown maid...dark as a gypsy. But you show to advantage with these fair Haythes. Shall you enjoy your season do you think?"

"Indeed I shall," Louisa could say without doubt. "I have anticipated it these three years, and I should not be capable of doing otherwise."

Dowager Lady Cheriton lifted a silvered brow, but smiled a little at the determination behind Louisa's words. "You've something to say for yourself anyway. My eldest granddaughter has writ me of you. She says there's a great deal to you. What do you think of that?"

"I think her ladyship is very kind; she was more than generous to me. I have reason to be very grateful to your family, my lady. I shall not forget it."

"Well said, my dear." The old lady seemed to approve her. "You'll do." She turned to Rebecca Valence abruptly. "And you, Miss Valence? I am a little surprised to see you here. We have not met, but I have heard of you. Shall you enjoy this season unencumbered and unattached?"

Louisa's eyes widened at this pointed statement. She knew very well that Miss Valence lived rather beyond society's bounds, in her own establishment in Brighton, and was reputed to have entertained a duke there with regularity and familiarity. She also knew Miss Valence was possessed of a volatile temper that brooked no interference; she had seen the lady brangle with her brother the Baron Valence.

"I attend upon you today quite incidentally, Lady Cheriton. And I live alone by my own choice," Rebecca Valence drawled. "As you do. I may yet regret my entanglement with my brother's new family connections, but I shall enjoy such portions of the season I choose. It is several years since I have bothered with the ton. It should provide much amusement."

The dowager marchioness regarded the younger woman narrowly, while it seemed to Louisa that her ladyship's grandchildren held their breaths.

"Your amusements will not, I assume, touch my family with anything of scandal. I should be exceeding unhappy to have that occur."

Miss Valence's pale blue eyes silvered with a temper Louisa recognized. "I doubt your family's flawless reputation could be tarnished, my lady. I..."

"No doubt you are correct, Miss Valence," the old lady interrupted. She seemed to have lost interest in the young woman now that she had issued her warning. She directed her attention to her three younger visitors. "Well, my dears, Felicity and I have planned an active campaign for these next four months. The season is much like a battle, you see; it must be won with strategy and tactics. Careful planning and subtle scheming are required for success. And Felicity is a master of these."

Felicity appeared uncertain if she had been complimented or insulted and Louisa smothered a chuckle. She also was hard-put to determine which was intended.

"I shall assist you as best I can," the dowager was continuing. "Vouchers for Almack's will be easily obtained, although I cannot promise that even my connections can provide one for you, Miss Valence."

The dark-haired beauty contented herself with frown and forebore to comment.

"Nicholas visited me yesterday. He is preoccupied with matters of government--still can't believe he's the marquess now--" the old lady added the thought almost to herself, "and cannot be bearleading three youngsters about town. That shall be left to Lady Valence and I. I'm an old woman; I expect your obedience and your docility. Now Felicity, have you any new proposals to present to me?"

Felicity who did indeed plan to conduct her young relatives' season with military precision withdrew a sheaf of papers from her reticule. She plunged with alacrity into a complex and intense discussion with her grandmother.

Louisa knew the papers included a list of invitations already received, a catalogue of those expected, and a directory of useful names. She thought the ladies would be occupied for some time. Rebecca Valence wandered to the broad drawing room window where she stared into the bustling street below, a frown marring her smooth brow and her glance abstracted. Dowager Cheriton's companion crossed to her side, and engaged her in quiet conversation.

Neglected--to their great relief--Louisa, Susan and James retired to a tray of refreshments that had been brought in.

"We brushed through that tolerably well," Susan said, helping herself to cake and a glass of negus.

"Miss Valence did not care for the dowager's interference," Louisa ventured in an undertone choosing one of the biscuits arranged for their delectation.

"I thought she might rise to Grandmama's bait and we should have a right rumpus," James said around a mouthful of cake.

"I thought you would rise to Grandmama's bait, pretty boy..." Susan teased.

James flushed, but said stoutly, "Grandmama's a right one. She just had to have her jest since Nicholas' nose was broken and his chin scarred."

Louisa shivered, remembering Cheriton's grievous wounds following the battle of Waterloo; the injuries to his face were the most visible but least serious of them. She could not be insensible of his past sufferings, no matter that her feelings for him had changed.

"I cannot think why Rebecca came today," Susan said. "Perhaps it was only curiosity. But perhaps she intended to irritate Grandmama. I think she intends to set her cap at Nicholas."

Louisa, despite her new-realized indifference to the marquess, did not think Rebecca Valence could make him a suitable life partner. "Surely not!"

"I shouldn't be surprised. She is in the market for a husband, I am certain, and our Nicholas is a handsome catch."

Louisa had not thought of Lord Cheriton in those terms, but she supposed a newly inherited marquessate endowed a certain cachet upon its possessor.

"Nick is not such a fool. But surely she came along only because we are to go on to the shops?" James said, glad to be diverted from discussion of his grandmother's comments about his person.

"You must be right," Louisa agreed, hoping Miss Valence had not joined them simply to encounter the marquess.

"She cannot have come for the pleasure of our company," Susan said.

"She is pleasant enough at home in Chapel Street; I think she is very fond of Lady Felicity." With customary kindness, Louisa was moved to generosity. She knew Susan would accept her effort for she would never believe evil intent of anyone.

For herself, she would reserve judgment on Rebecca Valence. She feared Susan's conjecture might very well prove to be truth. And she hoped, against all logic, that Lord Cheriton would avoid whatever trap Miss Valence laid.

* * *

Louisa found herself nervous as she dressed for a dinner party at the Cheriton town house in Cavendish Square later that same week. Her anxiety, she realized all too well, had to do with meeting Nicholas again. In vain she reassured herself she had broadened her experience with travel and learning and had increased in confidence, poise and grace in the months since their last encounters. Despite that she had been cured of her infatuation for Lord Cheriton and could meet him only as a valued friend, she found herself apprehensive about their reacquaintance.

It seemed the delay in their meeting had served to increase her apprehension. She had expected--indeed had been prepared--to encounter him almost immediately upon his arrival in London. That she had not done so caused her to speculate upon the level of his indifference. And she had time to wonder: if her first acquaintance with him had engendered infatuation, and her second had carried disillusion in its wake, what could be her reaction upon their third association?

Their first encounter had been nearly three years previous, following his return from the war after sustaining serious injuries at the battle at Waterloo in Belgium. He had spent the first weeks of his recovery in her home, Wheeling Hall, in Sussex where his sister, Eleonora had been on the point of being wed to Louisa's brother, Robert. Indeed, in that busy time, Louisa had been his most constant companion as he recuperated. She had read to him, run errands for him, played at backgammon and chess with him, and had fallen irretrievably in love with her wounded hero. His eventual departure and that of his family for their ancestral home in Norfolk, after the wedding, had broken her heart. Or at least so she believed.

Then had come his father's death and Nicholas' subsequent inheritance of the title in early 1816. Their second meeting had been on her visit to Shardleigh in the late summer of that same year. She found Nicholas had undergone a remarkable alteration. The charming warrior of her dreams had been sobered by responsibility and sorrow to a quiet, withdrawn man preoccupied by estate matters and immersed in aristocratic responsibilities. She had found him boring in the extreme.

She expected now to feel nothing but a passing interest in the marquess as her friends' older brother. But one thing she had learned in the intervening months was that one could not anticipate one's own reactions. One could control them, yes, and manage them, but they would not be ignored. And so she was plagued by an uncertainty.

Fortunately, she had confidence in her appearance for the evening once her maid had finished with her. One of her new evening gowns had been delivered. It was pure delight: of the palest, most natural cream--for the white of debutantes did not at all flatter her--it had a scattering of embroidery in bronze floss and a ruched hem of delightful proportions. It possessed a decolletage lower than any she had previously worn, and a tiny flutter of embroidered sleeve that spoke of demure flirtation. Her hair was bound with bronze ribands and Baltic amber ear drops and a delicate necklace of the same gemstone complimented her coloring.

She put her concerns aside and thanked her maid as she was swathed in a russet velvet cloak. She was glad of it for the March evening was cool and dusk was gathering as she joined Lord and Lady Valence and Miss Valence in the coach.

She was relieved when Lord Valence seemed disposed to conversation; it took her attention from the evening to come.

"I daresay this will be a more amusing Season than most," the baron said. "I shall have my beautiful wife to display, my lovely sister's caprices to observe, and I may watch the new marquess fend off the husband-hunters and matchmakers."

Lord Valence was a dark, sardonic gentleman, some years older than his wife, but devoted to her with all the ardour of a reformed rake. As his home and property bordered Louisa's family estate, she had known of him for many years; he had in fact been used as something of a threatening evil in her neighbourhood. But now that she had become acquainted with him, she found in him nothing at all fearsome, but rather she enjoyed his quick, sarcastic wit, and was grateful for his offhand kindness to her.

His sister answered him raising her quiet, drawling voice to be heard over the noise of shod hooves on the cobbles. "You have always been a 'watcher', Eric. That is why you envy me; I partake of life, you merely observe it."

"I was not aware I envied you, my dear," he said. "I think I have envied no one in the world since the day I wed." Lady Felicity stroked his cheek with her gloved hand before nestling closely by his side.

Louisa looked away. She was envious...of their happiness. She saw that Rebecca watched them with a faint sneering tolerance. It occurred to her, with a sudden lowering feeling, that Lord Cheriton would most likely be completely taken up with Rebecca Valence. He very probably already had some acquaintance with the lady. Miss Valence must be nearly Cheriton's own age, and she was possessed of a sophisticated beauty and manner that must appeal to him.

Her reflections gave her no joy and Louisa could only be glad the journey to Cavendish Square was brief. In the bustle of their arrival she could calm her concerns, and prepare for the evening to come.

It was her first visit to Cheriton House. A tall footman opened the substantial door, and a grave butler ushered them into the town residence of the Haythes with a flourish. As their wraps were carried away, Louisa had opportunity to stare about her at the magnificence of the entry. The floor was laid with tiles of travertine marble, and beautifully polished oak paneled the lower half of the walls, leading to a graceful, sweeping staircase. Louisa admired the small, flawless classical statues that adorned a gilded side table, and the watered primrose silk that clad the upper walls. She was wishing for time to study the landscapes that graced the silk when the austere butler indicated he was to be followed up the stairs to the drawing room.

Nervous once more, Louisa concentrated on the straight, slender back of Rebecca Valence before her. To steady her nerves she studied the lady's blue tissue gown, embroidered and spangled with silver, in every detail. She took a deep breath as the butler flung open the door to the drawing room. She gained a swift impression of gleaming silver, bronze and crystal and caught the scents of beeswax and flowers, and then they were announced.

She need not have worried about her encounter with the marquess. Her seniors took all of Lord Cheriton's attention. Her own notice was claimed by Lady Susan, who danced over immediately, a vision in virginal white with blush ribands and pearls. Susan led Louisa to her grandmother who sat as was usual with her companion, a distant cousin of lively wit. As she responded suitably to the greetings and comments put to her, Louisa was able discreetly to observe Lord Cheriton...Nicholas.

He looked wonderfully well in a dark coat of surpassing elegance and black knee breeches that must have pleased the dowager. His thick hair was darker than that of the twins, and his eyes were hazel with a dozen lights from green to blue to grey. He appeared fully recovered at last from his grievous injuries with no trace now of a limp, and only a scar along his lean jaw and a bump on his previously straight nose to remind them all of the ravages of war. She gratefully realized she could survey his lean, muscular frame without any lovesick longings, and congratulated herself on recovering from her attachment.

A sudden silence in the conversation warned her she was not attending to her companions. She met the dowager's knowing look with comprehension of her own; her friends' grandmama knew all about her past folly! She was abruptly aware that her devotion had likely been a topic of conversation among all the Cheriton family. She blushed with mortification, but a surge of discussion concealed her embarrassment.

At that unfortunate moment, Lord Cheriton had opportunity to come to her side. He bent over her hand. Meeting the laughter and admiration in his hazel gaze, she discovered the sad and preoccupied air that had clung palpably about him the previous autumn had dissipated. Indeed his easy manner was such as to remind her of the first weeks of their acquaintance with something of a pang.

"Little Lou...Miss Rainley, I think I should say. There is nothing left of my little hoyden, is there? You are become a thorough young lady. How do you go on, and what think you of London? Is it as wonderful as you were used to imagine?"

He stood before her and gave her all his attention; she had to look up to his face, she had forgotten how far. She noted absently that his unruly hair still drooped endearingly over his wide brow and that, if his face was not so very handsome anymore due to his broken nose and scar, it was certainly patrician and characterful. She wished he had forgotten the nickname James had given her, not so kindly, on first acquaintance years before.

She shook her head imperceptibly. "I believe it is," she said, answering his question with bright determination. "Although my experience of it is, so far, limited. I expect to see more of it now Susan and James are come to town. And you, my lord? Shall you have a great deal of work to do?" When last she had met him at Shardleigh, he had worked incessantly, without joy or energy, and had been unutterably dull.

"Once I have given my maiden speech, I am merely a humble student in Parliament. I feel like an apprentice to society also, it is so long since I took my place here."

Susan had edged away from her grandmama and now broke in upon their exchange. "Oh, Nicholas, it cannot have changed so very much since you made your bow, though it was nearly ten years ago." She studied her own words for a moment. "Ten years! Good gracious, how old you are become!"

"If you think so, then I had best return to those more my own age!" Cheriton bestowed a wink upon his sister and a kind smile on Louisa. He turned back to his grandmother, who had been joined by all the Valences.

Susan drew Louisa further away. "You see? He is not nearly so fusty as he was last summer. I think he is comfortable with the title now and has mastered the job," Susan said. "And of course, we have grown a little accustomed to the idea of Papa's passing." She surveyed all her family present with a loving look. "It was most difficult for Nicholas for he felt he should not have gone to war."

"He was used to tell me that, at Wheeling." Louisa's gaze returned to the marquess as if magnetized. "He thought it his fault your papa was so ill and weary; he discounted Lord Cheriton's support of his army career and pride in his heroism."

"He will not talk about his 'heroism'." James, displaying a sartorial perfection Cheriton's expensive tailor must have provided, had strolled over. "He won't tell me the details of his actions at all."

"I know he thinks it not a subject for idle chatter," Louisa said.

"There is nothing idle about my interest," James countered.

"There is nothing idle about his interest in Miss Valence," Susan giggled. The three young people watched Lord Cheriton bend his proud head to better hear Miss Valence's statement on some matter.

"We cannot have her in the family," James said. "One Valence is enough; Eric is a right one, but Miss Valence, oh no. It would never do."

"I quite agree," said Susan.

"I think Lord Cheriton is old enough to make up his own mind who shall be his marchioness." Louisa determined to give the marquess as little thought as possible. "I suggest we enjoy our Season. What shall be our destination tomorrow in the morning?"

Her companions were diverted by her question and soon outrageous suggestions had them all in smothered gales of laughter.

As the threesome giggled together, Nicholas Haythe, Marquess of Cheriton, surveyed them unobtrusively. The Valences were conversing with his grandmama and her companion and his attention was wandering.

His brother and sister were of an age now, he determined, to leave mourning and regret and childhood behind. James had done well at Harrow and was bound for Cambridge with certain goals and ambitions. Susan was destined to be an ornament to society, and had intelligence to support her considerable beauty. He was proud of them, as he knew his father had been; they were bright, attractive and personable.

His gaze lingered on Louisa Rainley. Little Lou--he had always used the diminutive with affection; it suited her small stature to perfection. He was well aware she had in the past idolized him as her 'wounded hero'. He had regretted he had been her calf love; any young girl deserved a better hero than a survivor of war, damaged in body and soul. She had been so very young, in years and in experience, when he had convalesced at her home.

He had departed Sussex for Shardleigh in Suffolk with little regret and some relief. And when his father had died short months later, he was glad he had left Louisa to her growing up. He had hoped, when he had since had a moment to reflect on it, that she had not thought her heart was broken.

"She is lovely; a taking little thing," his grandmama observed, following the direction of his glance.

Nicholas discovered Miss Valence had drifted away with her brother and sister-in-law, and he was alone with his grandmama. The animated conversation in the chamber bode well for future family relations. "Miss Rainley? Indeed, she is. And so very young."

Despite his words, he could not pretend to himself to be insensible of how she had matured. Her slight frame was charmingly curved, and her pretty face was very nearly beautiful. And his sister Felicity had guided her sartorial sense with impeccable taste; her bronze ribbons complimented her bronze-brown eyes to perfection.

"I must suppose we can lay the unconventional colours which young Louisa wears at Felicity's door," Dowager Lady Cheriton said.

Nicholas was well aware of his grandmother's assessing glance. He had no desire to provide his astute elder with material for conjecture. "I believe so. The girl will take very well I think."

His grandparent snorted indelicately. "She'll not want for suitors. You seemed to incline to an interest there yourself once, so I was told." The old lady was probing.

"I was ill, she was sweet. She is a child; I am too old for her, Grandmama. Fifty years too old, I think, what with the war, and Father's passing. And if she admired me then, she is wiser now. The scales fell from her eyes last autumn when she visited Shardleigh. She thinks me staid, boring and without value." Nicholas' response was careless and unconcerned.

"You're a handsome peer of only thirty," she reminded him. "With a record of heroism and charm enough to have that Valence woman eating out of your hand. Don't delude yourself; most of the ladies of the ton will be killing themselves to stand up--or lie down--with you."

"Grandmama!" Despite himself, Nicholas could feel a blush creeping up his neck. He thought he would never become accustomed to his outspoken grandparent.

"Don't be mealy-mouthed, boy. I can't bear it. Well, if you won't have a pure little maiden like Louisa Rainley, you had best not have the shop-worn goods that are Rebecca Valence."

"You have no reason to speak of the lady like that," he dared to remonstrate. "We know nothing of truth about her circumstances."

"My sources don't lie. She's no better than she ought to be. You have a succession to establish and a lineage to continue; don't make a mistake you will regret for the rest of your life. Enough of that, you'll do as you wish, of course. Now, how shall we manage this exploit of the youngsters?"

"What exploit?" Nicholas had never judged himself deficient in understanding, but this abrupt change of topic, coming as it did after unwelcome advice, caused his head to spin with confusion.

"I despair of you, Cheriton. I really do. You cannot restrict your focus to a single thing in this world. You must develop flexibility and omniscience. Your brother was seen riding upon a hobby-horse in Hyde Park yesterday," she explained. "Frightened half the horses and ladies in attendance there."

"Better he does that than gambles or wenches." Nicholas was recovering his aplomb.

"I concur. But he had with him, also mounted upon those foolish contraptions, his sister and Miss Louisa Rainley, showing an indecent amount of leg and delighting the gentlemen."

"Good God!" Cheriton stared across the elegant chamber at the two young ladies who had their heads, fair and dark, close together. Louisa's rich and melodious chuckle came to his ears and recalled him to a time when that giggle had lifted his spirits and cheered him inordinately. He found himself wishing he had been in the park to see her legs, and immediately shied away from the thought.

"They had a wonderful time by all accounts but it ain't the thing, you know, not at all the thing. Still, it's youthful hi-jinks, nothing more." The dowager did not wait upon Cheriton's advice. "I suggest we do nothing. Felicity will soon have them so busy they'll have no time for such nonsense."

Embarrassed by his unruly thoughts, Nicholas redirected his attention to the problem at hand. "I know something that will distract them from hobby horses...real horses. I'll have their mounts brought down from Shardleigh. And I'll have a word with James. I am certain a word of warning will suffice."

"Warnings! Aye, the air must needs be full of them this evening, I think."

The old lady's statement was cryptic in the extreme, and Nicholas could only be thankful when his butler entered to announce dinner was served. Cheriton offered his grandmother his arm even as his gaze slid to Miss Valence. Warnings, indeed.

Chapter Two

"I must say our meeting in this manner is remarkably trouble-free," Louisa announced as, for the third consecutive sunny day in late March, she joined Susan and James at the Chapel Street junction with Park Lane at nine o'clock in the morning. "Felicity is never prepared for outings until two. The household does not remark my absence for I told them nothing but the truth. They will not speak of it unless asked. Lord Valence and Miss Valence I rarely encounter before six of the clock or dinner."

"And we scarcely see Nicholas but when he is required to squire us somewhere. And you know how seldom that is, for the entertainments are so dismal Felicity and Grandmama are companion enough. I did think the Season would be more exciting; I have quite decided it is all a hum," Susan said. She twirled her tasseled silk sunshade absently, and bowed to an acquaintance across the road.

Louisa felt herself called upon for explication. "Felicity says it has not begun in earnest; there will be more activities in a month or so." Lady Valence had actually confided the twins would have enough opportunity for endless romping later in the season. She also gave her opinion that the currently available entertainments required levels of elegance and refinement that were good training for her irrepressible siblings. "In any event, I thought the reception at the American Ambassador's residence was most interesting, and quite full of people I never thought to see, much less to meet."

"Just because Mr. Wordsworth, the Iron Duke and Nicholas were there, Louisa thinks she had a wonderful time," James teased. "Do let's walk on." He was possessed of such an excess of energy, he positively twitched as they stood conversing. "Why did you bring that umbrella-thing, Susan? There is neither rain nor excessive sun to make it necessary."

"The same reason you brought that silly walking stick. I like it! And just because Louisa has a more serious turn of mind than you, dear brother, you may not ridicule her."

Louisa was becoming accustomed to the constant small attacks between brother and sister. Neither seemed to take them seriously, and so she was beginning to pay little heed to the acrimonious asides.

Susan continued without pause. "I hope Felicity is correct about the improvement of diversions. I had intended to dance the nights away, and there has been precious little opportunity for that yet. Grandmama thinks I am sadly light-minded. But she must believe we are daily occupied with Felicity or Nicholas for she never demands our attendance before three o'clock."

"This meeting place does work well." James had indeed paid no heed to his sister's jibe, but agreed with Louisa's original statement. "We shall have trouble when it comes on to pour with rain some day though. Now, can we not walk on?"

"I daresay Louisa might be conveyed to us in Cavendish Square if it rained. That is unexceptionable, and no one will take note if we three go abroad from there. We could not allow a little soggy weather to deter us. The sights we have already seen--the Royal Menagerie and the Egyptian Hall--have been excellent." Susan pursed her pretty lips as she considered the matter. She stepped aside to allow a governess with three small charges to pass her on the pavement. "We might actually have been overzealous in arranging our rendezvous. The servants would not think Louisa's visits out of the ordinary, Nicholas would never notice, and Mr. Spaldwick might be persuaded to keep our activities private."

"I still think we are better out of the house. Though I have no doubt you could persuade Mr. Spaldwick of whatever you wish." James mimicked his sister in speaking the name. "He is infatuated with you."

"Who is Mr. Spaldwick?" Louisa asked in bewilderment.

"He is Nicholas' secretary," James said. "He lives in; third son of one of Father's friends. We told you of him, I'm sure."

"I remember now. I am not surprised he admires Susan. She is beautiful and charming; why should he not?" Louisa said. Susan's confidence that Cheriton would not notice her presence smarted, but she told herself it was a truth she welcomed. "And pray what has engendered your jaundiced outlook?" she asked of James.

"You do well to ask. We have had more pleasure in the past two days than we have had for two years, and he becomes a bleater." Susan giggled. "Nicholas has read him a scold, about the hobby horses. Not because he rode one, for Nicholas said he should like to do that himself; but over allowing us to try them as well."

"A gentleman has always the responsibility for the health and reputation of the ladies of his household," James intoned in an excellent imitation of his older brother. "As if I could have stopped you," he added in his normal voice.

Louisa stifled a pang of concern over Nicholas' disapprobation by manufacturing a sneer toward his prosy top-loftiness. How boring he was. Lord Cheriton's feelings on her behaviour had not to worry her, she assured herself. He and his opinions meant nothing to her. "The hobby-horses were great fun even if they were difficult to master. I had not thought it to be such a challenge."

"Well, it's not like riding a horse. Even a broken down hack will stay on its feet and have no need of assistance with balance. Pedestrian curricles must be kept upright and balanced by the rider who, as you discovered, must also direct, power and steer it," James said. "Nevertheless, it is not so very difficult."

"You had not to manage a skirt as well," his sister said. "I cannot think how word traveled around the ton about it so quickly. There were few enough people in the park when we were practicing."

"The few that were there were impressed by your knees, and Louisa's. Couldn't keep the fact to themselves," James cackled rudely.

"Oh do be silent!" His sister sent Louisa, who had coloured deeply, a sympathetic glance. "I'm glad we tried the hobby-horse, knees or not!"

"As am I," Louisa said with some firmness. She wished for nothing so much as a change of subject, and tried again. "You know we should have some arrangement, an alternate plan, in the event of inclement weather. I think it would not seem odd if I ask to be driven to Cavendish Square if it comes on to rain or the wind blows particularly cold."

"There could be no comment in the Valence household whatsoever," Susan agreed with only cursory consideration. "Agreed?" she asked her brother.

"Agreed, though I repeat, we are better out of either house. I will not stand any longer, I'm perishing of the cold now despite this new greatcoat. I am for the park even if you two are not." James strode off and the girls hurried after him, their pale skirts swaying in the crisp spring breeze.

"Grosvenor Gate or Chesterfield?" James tossed over one shoulder.

"Chesterfield. Though it is chilly, is it not the most glorious day?" Louisa, well wrapped in her green pelisse and a neat, stylish Huntley bonnet, turned her face to the March sun.

There was no reply to her question; she paused to look at her friends.

"Oh, I say!" James exclaimed. He had halted despite his words about walking on.

"'Tis only a barrel organ," Susan looked down Park Lane following his gaze. Their faces were more than ever alike with concentration marking their brows.

The green of Hyde Park marched with them to the west, but the organ was attempting to stir some custom from the affluent folk abroad in the Lane. A small crowd of well-dressed infants and their nursery maids was already gathering before the contraption.

Louisa spied what had attracted James' attention. "But look at the monkeys!"

The three young people hurried on and soon came up with the organ grinder. A little girl in a starched but shabby muslin gown with a faded shawl knotted about her shoulders accompanied him. A bright and inquisitive ring-tailed monkey with a miniature turban fastened upon its head sat atop the barrel organ. But it was the slightly smaller simian held like a babe in arms by the child which caught their interest. The creature was possibly a foot long with a tail slightly longer, and it was thickly furred with a smooth black pelt. It chittered a greeting and, with a quickness that startled, whisked to sit on the child's capped head.

"I say," James said again, with a thoughtful expression.

"I should think so," Susan agreed. She closed her sunshade with a snap that intrigued both monkeys and child.

Louisa was coming to recognize the intuition that operated between the twins. Her own acumen caught their meaning. "Dare we?" she asked. She was certain the twins meant to purchase the intriguing, appealing creature.

"Oh yes!" James was tapping his newly purchased walking stick against his shining Hessian boots.

"Yes, indeed," Susan said. "But it shall not belong only to you, James. We shall own it equally, a partnership."

"T'monkey's not for sale," the organ grinder said, before they even enquired. He allowed the organ to squeal to a halt.

"You cannot need two monkeys, friend. Surely a crown would be of more use to you?" James said, drawing out his purse.

"'Tis the little one's pet," the man growled.

"Then she shall have a crown also," Susan said. She dug in her reticule for the coin, and held it out to the child.

The little girl stared from the silver to her father and drew the monkey from her shoulder back into her arms.

"Do you wish to keep your pet, or will you sell him to us?" Louisa asked, bending to the child's level. "We will be very good to him."

"'E bites if you pull 'is tail. And me mum cannot abide him. I should rather have a kitten."

"Then I shall add a crown as well, and I hope your papa will find you a kitten."

"Aye, for three decus you can have the beast." The organ grinder held out a grimy hand. "And t'child can have a moggy."

James turned over the silver, and they were proud owners of the small black monkey and his leather lead and collar in a trice. They parted from the organ grinder and his daughter, and continued to walk down the Lane. The little primate only once looked back at its former owner and at the small girl now petting the other monkey. It seemed to accept its fate philosophically.

"Wherever shall we keep it? I cannot have him in Chapel Street," Louisa said with dismay, only just realizing the implications of the purchase.

"We'll have him. Nicholas will never know he is taken up residence," James said, his glum mood utterly abandoned. "What shall we call it?"

"Something un-monkey-like, so we may talk of him without people knowing of what we speak," Louisa suggested. Her friends thought the suggestion sound.

"Henry," said Susan. "Is it a boy?" she asked with a blush.

"Bruiser," James offered. "I think so."

"Gibraltar," Louisa said with sudden decision.

"Gibby." Susan watched the monkey's bright eyes. "He likes it. Come, Gibby." The monkey leaped easily from James' arms to her shoulder. "Let's take him home and train him."

The walk to Cavendish Square seemed very short, entertained as they were by the little monkey's chittering chatter and lightning quick movements. They were fortunate enough to see no one of consequence on the walk, and they were laughing extravagantly as they approached the Cheriton town house.

Looking down the Square, Louisa saw before her companions did, the unmistakable mounted figure of the marquess. "Your brother," she hissed.

James snatched up the little monkey and stuffed it, lead and all, into the front of his new greatcoat. The voluminous capes of this garment concealed admirably the squirming bulge that was the active creature.

Louisa did not notice; she had eyes only for Cheriton's fine seat and his magnificent Friesian gelding. He had told her, during the long days of his recovery, of his love of the breed. When she had visited Shardleigh the previous autumn, the only enthusiasm the new marquess had showed was for his beloved Friesians. Before her disillusion with him had become complete, she had spent a delightful afternoon in his company being shown his blood stock.

Now she was excited to see he had brought his favourite, Tane, to London. She rushed to the head of the big, calm horse, reaching to stroke the white star that was the only spot on his dark coat.

The marquess smiled down at her, removing his low-crowned beaver to talk to her. "You remember him?"

Louisa was struck by the thought that her charming friend of 1815 had returned. The breeze ruffled his tawny hair. She met his smiling query with a shy smile of her own. "Of course. How could I forget? So strong, so handsome, quiet and...and able." It crossed her mind vividly that she might be speaking of the marquess himself.

Lord Cheriton's siblings came up with them before Cheriton House. Louisa was conscious of relief for their distraction from her thoughts and her conversation with their brother.

Cheriton greeted the twins affectionately. James, though polite, immediately started up the steps to the dark, polished door of the house.

Detaining his brother, Nicholas said, "You might like to hear this news, James! Forget your hobby horses; I have had Christo and Knight brought from Shardleigh." He named his siblings' long-time mounts. "And Sanda for you, little Lou. You liked her very well, I think, at Shardleigh."

Louisa was delighted; she had not realized until that moment how much she had missed her daily rides. Her brown eyes sparkled with her excitement and she barely noticed that the marquess had used her despised diminutive again.

The twins' appreciation was noisy, but brief, and they whisked indoors to the puzzlement of their brother.

Louisa was reminded of the monkey. She knew she must distract the marquess. The breeze stiffened and she put up a hand to her bonnet. "The chestnut mare? Oh, indeed I did. Thank you, my lord. I shall look forward to riding."

"I must not keep you standing about. Perhaps I may call for you to ride tomorrow?" the marquess asked, his gaze fixed upon her face.

"I should like that," she replied, realizing she spoke the truth with more fervency than she might have wished. That Cheriton should think of her comfort, and remember her preference for the Friesian mare were disquieting facts she would consider later. That he wished to ride out with her she could scarcely credit.

"You will ask James and Susan to join us?" he added, replacing his hat.

Louisa recalled her commonsense even as she anchored her skirts against the freshening wind. Of course Nicholas had no wish to be private with her. "Certainly," she assured him. She reminded herself that she could imagine nothing more uncomfortable than to be alone with the marquess.

Cheriton bowed in the saddle, and rode off, leaving Louisa to mount the steps to Cheriton House. A footman stood stoically holding the door open in the crisp March breeze.

Louisa paused to look after Lord Cheriton, confusion writ large upon her face.

* * *

Something of the same confusion troubled Nicholas in the following days. He had thought his notion to bring mounts to London for his brother and sister and their friend had been altruistic, a desire to bring happiness to the youngsters. It seemed only logical to include Louisa in his beneficence. But when he saw her delight at beholding Tane, he knew he had provided the horses purely to see the sparkle of joy in her clear cocoa-hued eyes.

He could not deny that the indifference with which she had gazed upon him in the previous days had given him a pang. Louisa had been essential to his recovery from his wounds more than two years before. Her energy and vigour had suffused him and sustained his spirit. He had been more than half-seduced by weakness and need into reciprocating the devotion she had so readily bestowed upon him. But as his health had returned so had his commonsense, and the realization that she was very young. He had believed then--and thought he still believed--that he had mistaken his feelings.

Reassured of his disinterest, he suggested that Louisa, with Susan and James, ride out with him each afternoon at the fashionable hour. He told himself riding was an exercise that might absorb some of their youthful energy and curb their high spirits, as well as their more adventurous tendencies. He was not so preoccupied as his brother and sister thought. He knew the twins were leaving the house every morning with only each other for company. He had in fact directed a young groom to follow them and inform him of their object. To his relief the groom reported that Lady Susan and Lord James merely met Miss Rainley each day and enjoyed unexceptionable excursions to sights of interest about London.

Nicholas discontinued the surveillance, for he had no wish to spy upon his siblings. But his attempt to divert their interests by providing their mounts was only partly successful. His sister and brother did not often join him.

When he found Louisa was the only one to consistently accept his invitation to ride out, he was dismayed by his own feelings. He was delighted, and he should not be. He again reminded himself of his two-year old decisions. He told himself he was taking an avuncular interest in Louisa for the sake of his siblings. There was no doubt that, despite her youth, she was a steadying influence upon them.

When after two weeks he found this self-deception difficult to maintain, he invited Rebecca Valence to join their rides. He immediately regretted extending the invitation. Miss Valence took every opportunity to flirt with him, and Louisa pokered up upon the young woman's presence.

Regret was only one of the emotions Louisa experienced when Miss Valence joined the riding parties. Bewilderment was another, and dismay. Had she been so boring that Cheriton must invite another, she wondered? Did he dislike her so much that when his brother and sister were not there to mitigate her company he had perforce to ask Rebecca to join them? The pleasure Louisa had experienced in her fine Friesian mount was dimmed when Miss Valence rode out with them. Her conversation, she knew, became stilted and artificial, and her self-confidence was undermined in countless small ways.

She thought she could almost hate the marquess for his insensitivity in including the beautiful Rebecca in their excursions. Though the pleasures of a fine horse and an hour or two to enjoy its paces in the pleasant surroundings of Hyde Park were difficult to refuse, Louisa began to beg off from the daily ride. She did not admit even to herself that the spectacle of Rebecca Valence setting her cap at Cheriton was more than she could bear.

She once more spent the extra time with her friends and was glad of it for riding had sadly diminished her adventures with Susan and James.

Any misgivings she had harbored in deceiving Cheriton about the monkey vanished. She was glad to think the marquess an obtuse dolt; it gave her some perverse amusement that it did not occur to him that his sister and brother were avoiding him and hiding a secret.

It seemed completely natural that the monkey accompanied the threesome on many of their outings, over the following days. The little beast was easily concealed. The March weather continued cool and James frequently wore his greatcoat, with Gibraltar safely tucked in the folds over his chest.

Louisa found the small creature's dexterity and cleverness endlessly fascinating. There seemed no end to its abilities and it had to be admitted that James excelled at training the monkey.

"He comes to my whistle, invariably," James was insisting one dreary morning as they entered the delightful premises of Hatchard's booksellers.

"Not invariably," Susan countered, peeping from beneath the wide brim of her Coburg bonnet.

"Does."

"Does not."

Louisa glanced impatiently from one of her friends to the other. Their all-too-frequent descents into nursery behaviour were beginning to irritate her. To her shame, she found herself occasionally wishing them at Jericho. She knew Cheriton would continue to regard her juvenile as long as he viewed her in the same light as his brother and sister. She tossed off the thought, and set herself to enjoy Hatchard's. She adored the bookshop with its intriguing scents of ink and paper, leather and glue. Who could be glum in such rich surroundings?

They were among the bookshelves when Louisa realized James meant to let Gibby off his lead. She was unconvinced of the wisdom of this act, but was too late to prevent James' action. The monkey raced to the topmost shelf in the flicker of an eyelash and, softly gibbering to himself, took a leather-bound book into his small paws.

Then he dropped it. It landed three feet away on a table...on top of a gentleman's tall hat which had been placed there by its owner who was reflecting on a purchase. The gentleman stood by regarding his crushed head-gear open-mouthed. But Gibby had moved on, encouraged by the soft giggles emanating from Susan and James.

Experimentally the monkey dropped three more books, causing a small child to cry for its mother, a serious looking spinster to juggle her stack of potential purchases, and a green plant--set upon a counter to enliven the sober surroundings--to subside in a huddle of broken leaves.

By that time, Louisa was hard put to contain her mirth. Gibraltar moved on, leaping lightly from shoulder to shoulder, toppling tall hats, tweaking bonnet ribands, and gathering whatever appealed in the way of wax fruit and silk flowers from the brims of those same bonnets.

The bookshop was in an uproar by the time the threesome strolled casually to the door. In the hubbub no one noticed the piercing whistle that emanated from the handsome young brother of the Marquess of Cheriton. Or that the monkey, showering its gatherings on its irate audience, scampered and jumped its way to the shoulder of the young man and then, disappeared.

Louisa, Susan and James managed to reach Hanover Square before hilarity overcame them. Standing on a street corner, they laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks as they discussed the events in the booksellers. Gibraltar was brought forth and made much of as they continued their walk to Cavendish Square.

The marquess' secretary, Alexander Spaldwick, was passing through the spacious hall as the trio was admitted to Cheriton House. He was a sallow young man, studious and serious and inclined to take his position with his lordship with gravity.

He smiled now as the boisterous trio shed their outer garments. His smile faltered at the sight of the small creature in Susan's arms.

"Good God," he exclaimed, staring at it and then worriedly at the impassive footman.

"It's her pet," James said. "Won't go anywhere without it, will you, Susan. Thank you, Ford." He dismissed the footman politely.

"It's no trouble, Mr. Spaldwick," Susan fluttered her long eyelashes at the bemused young secretary after the servant had disappeared. "But I do feel I must keep knowledge of it from Lord Cheriton. He could not, naturally, approve and I do love the little fellow so. You won't tell him?"

Mr. Spaldwick appeared unable to deny her the assurance of his secrecy.

"You will be in an uncomfortable position if you agree," James commiserated. "But you must not think of it as a lie to your employer. It is merely an...an error of omission. After all, the maidservants and the footmen know of Gibraltar's existence." That the servants--depending upon their sex--kept the secret for the sake of young Lord James and Lady Susan's charming smiles, James himself was not aware. "Least said soonest mended. Susan's pet is never noticeable. I mean you were unaware of him, were you not? And he has been here for some time. My brother has enough to think of without something that can concern him so little."

His eagerness to please Lady Susan was Mr. Spaldwick's undoing. "No, no, I can see no advantage to troubling his lordship."

"Would you like to hold him?" Louisa asked with an air of great innocence. While she respected Alexander Spaldwick, she could not forebear to tease him when the opportunity arose. He was so very circumspect.

"No, no thank you. Must get on." The young secretary waved the sheaf of papers he was holding, and hurried through the door of the library-cum-office which he closed firmly behind him.

The trio hurried up to the nursery where they again dissolved into mirth. Gibraltar was fed a biscuit, from the selection kept in a cupboard especially for his delectation.

Susan rang for tea. "Where have we to go this afternoon?" she asked.

"We are to make calls with Lady Valence and your grandmama," Louisa, who was more inclined than the others to know their list of engagements, said.

"Blast!" said James. "I should like to take Gibby out again."

"You wouldn't release him again?" Louisa asked.

"You wouldn't dare," Susan said with deliberate cunning.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" her brother responded predictably.

Louisa had seen them in this mood before. The end of it would be dares and disaster. She found the sibling interaction so very different from her relationship with her stolid, much older brother, and so fascinating, that she was a willing participant in whatever ensued.

"You wouldn't dare let Gibby loose in, say, Gunter's." Susan was provocative.

"The confectioners? I would!" The young man's eyes sparkled with the thought of it. There was a moment of silence as he relished the thought. "Tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow we are engaged for Lady Elton's morning dance," Louisa said. She had been looking forward to that engagement.

"With breakfast to follow..."

"At three in the afternoon. Very well, Gunter's the next day!" James declared.

* * *

The ton talked of nothing but the monkey loose in Gunter's immaculate shop for many days following. No one seemed to know from whence it had come, or how eventually it had disappeared. But the havoc it wrought was undeniable. It had stuck a small, hairy digit into as many ices as were served at the hour of its visit. It had pelted the company with hothouse grapes from a cluster it appropriated from a glass epergne set upon the marble counter. It had overturned several water glasses, and sprinkled a table of children and governesses with milk from a pitcher. It had tweaked the caps from the waiting-maids' heads and pulled the straight hair of a small, fat boy who tried to catch it.

And again obedient to James' sharp whistle, the monkey had joined the threesome just outside the door in a light mist, still clutching a small handful of grapes. It had eaten them with great relish as the young people strolled away shaking with ill-concealed laughter, unmindful of the weather.

The sheer foolish fun of it overwhelmed Louisa. It was for this she had longed, all the quiet, solitary days of her life at Wheeling Hall. The camaraderie, the joie de vivre, the pleasure of living shone through her days, and gave her a glow of happiness that gilded her prettiness to a bewitching loveliness.

* * *

It was that which Nicholas noticed foremost at the first entertainment he held that season. Louisa had become a beauty. He had not lost sight of her since she had entered his home in the company of his sister and brother-in-law. Her small figure was deliciously gowned in some soft green fabric that clung in places of which he should not be aware, particularly as she was a young friend of his adolescent siblings. In vain he reminded himself she was very youthful, in some way in his charge, and should be exempt from his interest. He twitched his pearl grey waistcoat impatiently.

It was obvious that other gentlemen were absorbed with her; she had become, it appeared, a toast. He watched from his position near the drawing room door, absently receiving his guests, as she was surrounded by a respectful crowd of men. She seemed unaware of the attention she had garnered however, and was speaking quietly with two of the more prominent members of Parliament he had invited. He grinned to himself, wondering if she knew with whom she conversed. He suspected she did. From the occasion of their first meeting, he had been impressed with Louisa's quick and acute intelligence.

Her infatuation of years before, his inclination to reciprocate it, her disillusionment and his relief all jumbled in his mind. With energy and impatience he dismissed the matter with simple logic. He was still too busy, too boring and too old for her. Louisa had best continue to view him with indifference and encourage the very young gentlemen who crowded about her now that the politicians were moving away.

Redirecting his attention with determination, he glanced about the well-filled chambers of Cheriton House with something like satisfaction. His guests seemed to be enjoying themselves. There was a harpist in the gold and silver music room entertaining a moderately attentive audience. Baize-topped card tables had been established downstairs in the morning room and the breakfast parlour for those uninterested in more sociable activities. And the brilliantly lit drawing room was filled with a vast crowd of gregarious, affable folk intent upon enjoying the first major gathering of the Season. Felicity was holding court at one end of the room, near the Wedgwood inlaid cabinet, with her devoted husband at her side. Nicholas' grandmama, accompanied by her cousin Miss Sawrey, was seated near the deep fireplace with her cronies. He had no doubt she was judging those present with accuracy born of long experience, and no kindness at all.

His able young secretary was circulating the drawing room, ensuring that no one was without company or occupation, that everyone was enjoying the proffered entertainments. Spaldwick was working out even better than Nicholas had hoped; he was bright, and capable, dealt with day to day matters with speed and accuracy, and was a reliable sounding board for parliamentary matters. He also had an eye to Nicholas' sister, but Nicholas felt no concern about that. Susan was too involved in enjoying her Season and all the sights of London to wish for involvement with the third son of a viscount.

He could see his younger brother across the immense Aubusson carpet charming a group of ladies, young and old. The sooner James was off to Cambridge the better. He had altogether too much energy and imagination to be too long ranging about the drawing rooms of London society. The hobby horse episode had proved that. Not that Nicholas had an objection to James trying the contraption, but that he had dragged his sister and little Lou into the matter was unacceptable. Although he doubted that the two girls had required convincing; indeed he suspected their involvement had been their own idea. He was well aware of the twins' propensity to dare each other to more and more outrageous behaviour, and what he was seeing of Louisa convinced him that she would not permit herself to be left behind.

His attention was caught by Miss Valence. Now she did not seem to find him dull; and, unless he much misread the signals, she was very willing to prove it. He put Louisa Rainley from his mind. He had much better fix his interest with Rebecca Valence than anyone else.

She was sensuality personified, from the top of her lustrous coiffure studded with diamond-tipped pins, to the tips of her satin sandals which allowed a peep at varnished toenails. The fluid blue silk she wore clung lovingly to every curve of her body. Her heavy lids drooped over seductive eyes. He had a decision to make about Rebecca, but perhaps he needed to explore the matter further with her. Those ripe lips were made for kissing, and she--unless he was very mistaken--would not be one to demand marriage after sharing a few kisses. They might do each other a great deal of good.

He had started in her direction when he was brought from his faintly lascivious reverie by a slight movement at the top of a brass curtain pole. He blinked and shook his head. No, he had not imagined it; there was something there. He stared, his eyes widening. There was a small, black monkey regarding him from atop the deep green folds of silk damask some fifteen feet above the floor. Even as he watched, the creature slid from view.

He strolled, admirably concealing his agitation, to one of his footmen. He advised the impassive young man of the interloper, and suggested the fellow notify his colleagues. Such was his concern that the marquess forgot himself so far as to offer a guinea to the servant that caught the creature.

There was a stir on the far side of the chamber that Nicholas was certain must have been caused by passage of the monkey. As he made his way towards the area, it passed through his mind that he had heard of a simian causing havoc in Gunter's recently, and also in Hatchard's. Before he reached the north end of the drawing room, there was a shriek from the west side, and he glimpsed the monkey carrying a gold riband adorned with a long black plume. A swell of consternation began to surge through the glittering crowd. Nicholas noted his brother's head come up and a moment later Susan's. The twins began to work their way toward each other, and a moment later Louisa was headed in their direction. Nicholas could no longer see the monkey.

There was a splash and then a dripping creature with a small golden fish clutched in one paw was mounting the ormolu torchiere beside a table draped with Brussels lace where a great crystal bowl had served as home to several of the fish's companions. It had been a charming decorative conceit organized by Felicity, and the monkey had apparently been delighted by it.

Three large footmen converged on the torchiere, which supported a many-branched candelabrum. The monkey, still grasping the fish, set off across the chamber, apparently running across the top of the crowd--a broad shoulder here, a substantial headdress there--causing shouts and shrieks of distress and excitement. It gained the handsome woodwork which decorated the gilded arch of an alcove housing an elegant light repast, then tossed the sad denizen of the deep into the crowd below. From the scream that ensued, Nicholas was very much afraid that the fish had lodged in the Countess of Hempnall's substantial decolletage. He hardly knew whether to laugh or to swear.

He recognized the moment that the monkey spied the food. It descended with astonishing swiftness to the buffet table where it proceeded to stroll among the anchovy toasts and ratafia cakes. It demolished a pyramid cream by plunging both forelimbs into the shivering delicacy, then chittered with annoyance as it began to lick off the result.

Nicholas finally arrived at the long, once elegant table a moment after the footmen, Susan, and Louisa.

"Gibraltar!" he heard Miss Rainley exclaim in an admonitory tone. He thought he must have misheard her, for it was an odd thing to say, to be sure. Then a piercing whistle rang through the drawing room. The monkey stopped its grooming, eluded the reaching hands of the footmen, and scampered off, again bounding impossibly across the top of the crowd. It finally reached the shoulder of James, who stood for a moment in the doorway and then disappeared into the corridor.

Nicholas spent the remainder of the evening trying to salvage his party. He lost count of his heartfelt apologies; shattered ladies departed escorted by indignant spouses. He thanked God he heard nothing more about the poor fish. Some guests regarded the matter as a great jest, some as an anomalous incident. It caused a ripple of laughter, a buzz of displeasure and a hum of confusion, but gradually the rout settled back into calm. The abused refreshments were replaced, champagne appeared on the trays of circulating footmen, and Nicholas exerted every iota of charm and diplomacy that he possessed to restore a jovial atmosphere.

It was two o'clock of a chill early April morning before the last guest had departed. The family, accompanied by Miss Valence and Mr. Spaldwick, only remained. They all were closeted in the morning room among deserted card tables littered with empty glasses, disordered packs of pasteboards and guttering candles.

The dowager had made her farewells without comment and had departed with Miss Sawrey in attendance. Her expression had informed Nicholas that she expected him to deal firmly with the incident.

Felicity appeared speechless with annoyance, but soon proved she was not. "A monkey! If I...Nicholas, if you cannot contain these two I will have nothing further to do with them. You can send them back to Shardleigh! And you Miss Rainley, may go with them. I will not have charge of a...a hoyden!"

"Miss Louisa is far from a hoyden," Nicholas said, finding himself defending the young lady. "It is our siblings at fault here." He could sense Miss Valence's curious stare upon him, and Louisa's annoyance at his defense. He had so far only made a bad situation worse. Lord Valence could not stop laughing. Nicholas glared at his brother-in-law.

Valence held up a conciliatory hand. "I think my dear wife, my sister, and I can be of little assistance here. We shall await Louisa in our carriage. I do thank you, Cheriton, for the most enjoyable rout it has ever been my pleasure to attend. And I must tell you that I was nearby Lady Hempnall when that poor goldfish made its final descent. One of the finest moments I recall in the history of the beau monde." He was still laughing as he led his indignant wife from the room.

Rebecca Valence stood alone for a moment as though to emphasize her independence.

Nicholas crossed to her and, after lifting her hand to his lips, led her to the door. "I shall call upon you tomorrow. The evening has not ended as I wished; will you indulge me?"

"More than you can imagine," she whispered with a sensuous rasp, her remarkably long lashes a flirtatious flutter.

Nicholas closed the door after her, and turned slowly to survey the three young people who remained with him. His secretary sat silent and ignored for the moment at a table newly stained with wine.

Louisa's bright, speculative gaze gave him momentary pause, and then he recalled his indignation. "How long have you lodged that monkey in my house?" he demanded.

James stared back at him fearlessly; Susan--probably recalling the pyramid cream's demise--unwisely giggled.

Louisa seated herself quietly beside Spaldwick.

"More than three weeks," James said.

"Is it the same monkey that terrorized Hatchard's and Gunter's?"

"It is," replied Susan.

Nicholas closed his eyes in despair, and composed himself so that he would not use the barracks room language that had been common in expressing frustration and anger in the army. "Did you know of this, Spaldwick?" he asked, without glancing at the young man.

"I...I knew of its residence here, my lord. I did not know it had been released upon the ton." The secretary was honest. His worried expression indicated his expectation of immediate dismissal.

Nicholas had no such intention. But he said sternly, "I expect better of you, all of you. This is no good introduction to polite society. And I could have used your support. You have left me with more work after this evening. I shall have a week's labour just to apologize and pacify my guests, and Spaldwick too will be a victim of this night's adventure." He ran a hand through his tawny hair; he felt like tearing it out. "You always have been resty, hey-go-mad youngsters; why should I have expected anything else in London? In fact, I am not surprised at your behaviour," he said to the twins before turning to Louisa, "but you, Miss Rainley! Could you not have stopped them?"

"I am scarcely their keeper, Cheriton. They are my friends. And we had no intention of releasing Gibraltar at your rout, my lord," Louisa said with composure.

How old was she? Nicholas wondered. He could not remember: seventeen now, eighteen? She displayed maturity despite that she took part in such juvenile activities. He thought he must stop associating her diminutive frame with extreme youth. Certainly there was nothing childish about the womanly curves of her brief bodice.

He shook his head and returned his attention to all three of the culprits. "I am sure I may guess where you came by the beast. One can obtain anything in London. And I have no objection to such a pet even after this disaster. But it remains in the house and it remains in your bedchambers or the nursery. Do you understand?" He pinned his brother and his sister with what he hoped was a ferocious glance. "If it again ventures near the drawing room or the kitchens, or anywhere else, it is out of this house."

"Oh, but..." James began to protest.

Louisa interrupted him. "That seems very fair, Cheriton."

Nicholas noted with some regret that she no longer called him Nicholas as she had been used to do during their previous acquaintance. And he remarked her friendly smile at Alexander Spaldwick.

"Then let us forget the matter," he said with what he felt was gracious magnanimity. When the four young people had filed out and shut the door, he fell into a chair. What a night! A smile turned his mouth as he remembered the shriek from Lady Hempnall. He went over the entire incident in his mind, and he began to laugh, and once begun, he did not soon stop.

Chapter Three

Nicholas felt no inclination to laugh when he confronted his brother in the commodious bookroom of Cheriton House a week later.

"You need how much blunt?" He wondered if he looked as stunned as he felt. He feared that his brother had finally fallen into the traps usually sprung by young gentlemen on the town.

James' manner was a confused mixture of defiance, remorse and supplication. "Fifty pounds." The very air vibrated with his tension.

"This doesn't involve that damned monkey, does it?"

"No."

"Is it a gaming debt? Have you been fleeced by the sharps?"

"No! I am not stupid."

"I know that. The sharps in fact had better watch themselves do you decide to take up gambling." He watched his young brother flush with the oblique compliment. He softened his tone. "Empty your budget, you sapskull. What have you been up to?"

"It was Astley's...Astley's Amphitheatre, you know? A bit of damage; well, quite a bit actually."

Nicholas mentally put aside the speech he was constructing for presentation in the House of Lords and the sizable missive that had just arrived from his steward at Shardleigh, and rescheduled the visit he had been bidden to make to his grandmother. This sounded like being a long story.

"Sit down, cawker, and tell me the whole." He watched his young brother fling himself into a wing chair, and then strode around his wide desk to seat himself. He picked up a quill to busy his hands, and prepared to listen.

"Well, I wanted to ride with the equestrians. And it looked simple enough...you know I can do all sorts of riding tricks. I saw nothing I had not successfully attempted, and I thought what a lark to ride at Astley's."

"In effect, you wished to run away and join the circus," Nicholas said half to himself. He could sympathize with the desire.

"Well, this round of balls, routs, musicales and such leaves one with a dashed lot of energy to work off." James was picking at the tapestry-covered arm of the chair in which he sat.

"I know." Nicholas did understand; he had experienced the same feeling many times. "Very well, tomorrow I'll introduce you to Gentleman Jackson, and to my fencing master. And you could try riding Christo more and leave Astley's horses to their experts. This is down to me; I should have considered your needs before this. I have been too occupied with my own obligations."

"You're the best of brothers!" James was quick to defend Nicholas from himself.

"Thank you, but I think I could do better. Tell me the rest." Cheriton tossed aside the quill and fixed a sympathetic gaze on the youngster.

"It's harder than it looks," James blurted. "I thought I knew the patterns and the routine. I had been there three times and watched so very carefully. They had someone fall ill; I offered to fill in. They were doubtful but I talked them round. I got to wear a costume; a dashed silly one actually. Anyway I made one false move and that was all it took. Even then there would have been no damage except the scenery fell over...into the artificial lake...on top of the model boats for the reenactment of Trafalgar."

Nicholas rose. He now felt a reprehensible desire to laugh and found himself wishing he might have witnessed the chaos. "Say no more. Let's attend at my bank and obtain a draft. We'll deliver it to Astley's together. No one will be the wiser. At least this escapade leaves your sister and Miss Rainley unscathed. Thank God they had nothing to do with it." He buffeted James' shoulder affectionately.

His brother's face was an odd mixture of guilt and contrition.

"Oh no," Nicholas said. He paused in his move to open the door. "Why should I have thought that they were uninvolved? You all three went to Astley's, am I right? And you said you could ride like that and Susan--"

"Susan said I couldn't."

"And she dared you..."

"She dared me to do it. And I'm dashed if I'll turn down a dare from a cabbage-headed girl!"

Nicholas let the slur on his younger sister go. "And Miss Rainley? What did she say?"

"Nothing. She's a right one...never tattles, never harangues a fellow."

"Oh good," said Nicholas. He could think of no other response. He put his head out the door and requested the footman loitering there to request Lady Susan to attend him in the bookroom.

She arri