"Very good. Now, that room, if you please, and something hot to drink. Order drinks for yourself and the men as well. I expect it's going to be a long night."

The next morning, Claire helped herself to a spoonful of scrambled eggs, a rasher of bacon and a slice of toast from the breakfast buffet laid out on a long sideboard in the family dining room.

Already seated at the table were Mallory and the twins-Lords Leopold and Lawrence-who were digging with obvious gusto into the mountain of food heaped upon their plates. Lord Drake, as Claire knew, would not be joining them, since he had returned last night to the bachelor's quarters he kept across Town. As for the duke, she had no idea where he was. She didn't even know if he was in the house or still out attending to whatever had called him away so precipitously last evening. Claire's mouth tightened briefly before she made her way to the table, the skirts of her cream-colored muslin gown whispering against her legs as she moved.

Moments after she made herself comfortable, Mallory passed her the butter and jams. "The marmalade is quite divine and the strawberry preserves as well. I'd have some of both now, if I were you, before someone else decides their dozen slices of toast haven't been sufficiently anointed with sweets."

The twins kept eating, neither of them rising to their sister's bait. Although Leo paused-at least Claire thought it was Leo-long enough to give her a wink before returning to his meal.

"Thank you for the advice," Claire said, smiling as she took a small spoonful of each. A footman appeared at her elbow and filled her teacup before withdrawing with silent efficiency.

"I was thinking after breakfast that we ladies might go shopping," Mallory said. "The Season is nearly upon us and there is your new wardrobe to be chosen and ordered."

Claire laid down her fork. "Oh, I would love to, but I'm afraid Mama is having one of her megrims and will not be able to accompany us. She is in her room now, taking nothing more than a biscuit and tea."

Mallory's gaze deepened with concern. "Oh, I am most sorry to hear she is unwell. I shall have a lavender compress sent to her right away." With a nod to one of the footmen, she dispatched the servant to see to the matter.

Taking up her fork again, Claire cut her piece of bacon in half. "Mayhap she will feel better tomorrow and we can go then."

"Go where tomorrow and who is feeling ill?" inquired a rich, resonant voice that could belong to only one man in the world.

Glancing up, Claire watched the duke stride into the room. Briefly, she forgot herself, struck by his beauty and the undeniable impact of his presence. In a single instant he dominated the room, invisible energy swirling around him that bespoke of his innate power and pride.

Clearly, he'd just come from the services of his valet. His mahogany hair was brushed neatly back from his handsome face, the ends still faintly damp from his bath. His cheeks were freshly shaven and a crisp white linen cravat was tied around his neck. He'd chosen to wear Prussian blue today, the shade that was nearly a match for his penetrating eyes. Pausing next to the dining table, he turned those eyes upon everyone assembled and waited for an answer to his query.

Claire decided to go first. "My mother is indisposed this morning," she explained, "which means that Mallory and I will have to delay our shopping excursion until later."

"I am sorry to hear of your mother's illness, Lady Claire. Shall I send for the physician to attend her?"

"Oh no, it is only one of her megrims. We have found there is very little to be done except to close the drapes and let her sleep. She will be better anon."

He nodded. "Should you change your mind, you have only to say."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

His dark brows drew together.

"Edward," she corrected in a soft voice.

An approving smile curved his mouth. "Good morning, by the way. I hope you slept well."

"Quite well."

After a moment, he gave a nod, then crossed to the buffet.

"You didn't ask how I slept," Lawrence called out in a teasing singsong.

Edward paused in the act of serving himself. "No," he replied without turning around, "I did not. But if it was anything per your usual, then you slept like the dead while sawing several cords of wood."

"I don't snore!" Lawrence defended. "At least not unless I'm in my cups."

His twin choked out a laugh and slapped his sibling on the back. With a shrug, Lawrence grinned, then once again applied himself to his meal.

Edward, his plate filled with a hearty, yet more moderate portion than his brothers, slipped into the chair at the head of the table, Claire on his right.

One of the footmen immediately appeared to fill his cup. He also placed a silver salver containing a neatly ironed copy of the Morning Post not far from the duke's elbow. "About this shopping expedition," Edward said, "where were you planning to go?"

"To the linen draper and the mantua maker," Mallory said. "For Claire's trousseau."

He swallowed a mouthful of eggs and ham, then patted his lips with his napkin. "Ah yes, the trousseau." His gaze moved to Claire. "I assume Mallory told you that you are to select whatever you require."

"She did, yes," Claire replied. "It is most generous of you, Your Grace."

He ate another bite of breakfast, his expression thoughtful. "I can see no reason why Lady Edgewater must accompany you," he continued. "Unless you expressly require her opinion."

"I value Mama's opinion, of course," Claire said, "but I have been choosing my own wardrobe for quite some while now."

"Then you and Mallory must go as planned. One of the twins can accompany you. I'm sure they'll prove useful carrying bandboxes and such."

Two golden brown heads jerked up at the same moment.

"Go dress shopping?" Leo complained.

"Carry bandboxes?" Lawrence said, the set of his rigid shoulders mirroring those of his twin.

"You know, Ned," stated Leo, "we do have plans of our own."

"Cancel them." Edward took another leisurely drink of his coffee. "I'm sure there'll be another boxing mill in a day or two."

Lawrence laid down his fork. "Not like this one. Hammer Hollands is fighting and I have five guineas on the outcome."

"And I've laid down ten," Leo added.

"One of your cronies can collect your winnings, assuming you didn't back the wrong man. Of course only one of you is required to escort Mallory and Lady Claire. The other can still go to the match."

Both young men crossed their arms over their chests.

"Wouldn't seem right for one of us to go without the other," Leo said.

"We'll both give the ladies our assistance," Lawrence agreed.

"Good, that's settled then," Edward said, cutting into a kipper this time. He glanced over at Claire. "I would accompany you myself," he said, "but I am afraid I have pressing matters that cannot wait."

"Of course," she murmured. "I understand."

Briefly, their gazes met.

The duke frowned.

"However, I would be pleased to accompany you to the theater this evening," he said. "If you would enjoy the outing?"

Claire frowned this time.

"Hamlet is being performed, I believe."

Hamlet, she thought. How apropos, with the tragic Ophelia dying from her unrequited love. But it's not as if I'm in any danger of drowning myself in the Thames, is it?

"Yes, Your Grace," she replied in a soft tone. "An evening at the theater sounds like a most excellent plan."

"Here are the newest pattern books arrived only this morning, ladies," Madame Morelle, London's most fashionable mantua maker, said later that day as she handed them the volumes. "I expect you shall find several selections to tempt you. And of course we can make any alterations you wish, so that each dress is unique and exclusively your own."

"Thank you, Madame," Mallory said from where she sat next to Claire on a very comfortable rose velvet divan. "You are always most kind. As I told you, we are here today to shop for Lady Claire's trousseau. She is in need of nearly everything, so please don't hesitate to offer suggestions."

"Not everything," Claire corrected in a hushed tone. "I have several attractive gowns that I brought with me from home."

"Of course your gowns are lovely," Mallory agreed with quiet sincerity. "But even you must admit they're not in the first stare of fashion. As Edward's affianced, you'll be expected to be on the cusp of the latest styles."

Madame Morelle agreed with a sage nod. "And I feel sure if Her Grace, the dowager duchess, were here, she would advise the same."

Would she? Claire mused. Perhaps I ought to refuse the new wardrobe and shame Edward by wearing my shabby, out-of-date gowns? But then she remembered her own mother and knew such a ploy would never succeed. Her shoulders slumped.

"Why don't I give you ladies a few minutes to look over those sketches," Madame Morelle said, "then I shall return so we can consult."

As she turned, the older woman's gaze moved across the room, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I see your two younger brothers have accompanied you today, Lady Mallory."

"Yes. They're acting as our escorts, since Lady Claire's mother was indisposed," Mallory told her.

"Your family members are always most welcome and I shall see they are kept replete with refreshments." Chin up, she sailed across the room. As she did, a girlish laugh floated in the air. Only then did Claire notice that one of the shop's young assistants was talking to the twins, the girl's cheeks flushed and her eyes bright from whatever flirtatious remarks were being showered upon her.

Madame made a tsking noise. "Sally, there are ladies in need of your attention. I shall see to their lordships now. You may go."

Pinking again, this time with alarm, the girl bobbed a curtsey and hurried away. Moments after she did, Lords Leo and Lawrence turned their combined charms on Madame and soon had her cheeks glowing girlishly and her eyes twinkling as well.

Irrepressible, Claire thought.

Returning her attention to the matter at hand, she began looking at the fashions. Every page held a new delight, each design more beautiful than the next. "They're all so pretty," she confessed. "I don't know how I'll ever choose. Which one are you getting?"

Mallory shot her a rueful glance. "Me? Oh, I'd love to get several, but I fear I exceeded my quota after I first arrived in Town. When Edward got the bill for this Season's dresses, steam practically rolled out of his ears. I thought little horns would sprout on his head he was so cross. He told me I was forbidden to buy another frock until my next allowance or he'd confiscate every dress and pack me off home."

Pausing, Mallory gave her a confidential little smile. "Of course Ned wouldn't really make good on his threat. But then again, you never know, so it's best not to push. Besides, my new allowance comes due mid-month, which means I've only a couple weeks left before I can buy more." She tapped a finger against one cheek. "Perhaps I should order something today and ask Madame to delay the delivery until after the fifteenth! Oh, you are brilliant, Claire!"

"I didn't say anything."

But Mallory had, Claire realized, abruptly struck by the other girl's remark.

So Edward had been angry at his sister's excessive spending? Furious, from the sound of it. And if he was anything like her father, then she could well imagine the scene, since Papa hated nothing quite so much as spending money. Edward had given her leave to purchase anything she required. But how many gowns did that mean? Obviously there must be a limit. What if she exceeded it? What if she bought so immense an order she made him furious? Might he call off the engagement for fear of being saddled with a spendthrift wife, then pack her off home?

With flutters dancing in her breast, she studied the pattern book with renewed enthusiasm. "You know, Mallory, mayhap I won't be able to choose only a few. I may just have to buy them all!"

Chapter 6.

The hum of conversation wound like smoke through the Drury Lane Theater that evening as Edward assisted Lady Edgewater to her seat inside his private box. Earlier that evening, she'd declared her headache much improved and expressed an eagerness to attend tonight's entertainment. Mallory sat next to her, leaving him to take his place beside Claire in one of the chairs arranged on the opposite side of the small aisle.

Only the four of them were present, since Leo and Lawrence had begged out of the performance. The twins had asserted a dire need to engage in "manly" activities after spending the day loitering in linen drapers, dress shops and millinery stores. As an obvious precaution against being waylaid again, they'd left Clybourne House well before dinner, no doubt planning to meet up with their friends for a night of carousing and card play.

Glancing over, Edward studied Claire as she watched the theatergoers in the other boxes and the mass of commoners jostling one another for the best spots in the three-shilling seats below. Quite often he found the activities of the patrons far more entertaining than the performance itself. But he wasn't watching the crowd tonight. He was watching Claire.

She looked especially lovely tonight dressed in a gown of ecru silk with short, straight sleeves that hugged her slender arms. Matching silk ribbons were threaded into her honey blond tresses, a few strands left to dangle in tiny curls along the nape of her neck.

He imagined himself reaching out to play with one of those curls, slipping his finger inside so that he could stroke the circular strand and the delicate pale skin that lay beneath. Ever so slowly, he would lean over and kiss the spot, running his mouth across her satiny flesh while he breathed in the lush feminine perfume of her skin.

Would she quiver with pleasure for me? he wondered. Would she sigh aloud and catch her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation of more?

With such things in mind, he couldn't help but recall the kiss they'd shared back at Marsden Manor. Even now, he remembered the sweet warmth and endearing vulnerability of her touch. How she'd trembled at first before her hesitation fell away, her fledgling responses revealing a depth of passion that left him wanting more.

She'd surprised him with that kiss. He'd surprised himself. He'd kissed her, intending to stake his claim as her duty-bound betrothed. Instead, he'd found himself wanting her simply as a woman.

For despite her youthful demeanor and impetuous willfulness, no one could dispute that she was a woman and not a girl. He had only to gaze at the ripe swell of her breasts and the tantalizing glimpse of bare flesh revealed by the low-cut bodice of her evening gown to be reminded of that fact.

As though to prove the point, Claire drew in a quick breath and leaned forward in her seat, causing the tops of her breasts to jiggle ever so slightly. He wondered how much they'd bounce if he pulled her onto his lap and claimed her lips.

Shifting in his seat, he forced the image away, aware that he couldn't so much as hold her hand in a public setting such as this one. If he had any sense, he would put aside all such notions until after they were wed.

I shouldn't have given up my mistress so soon, he thought. God knows, I could do with the physical release. But considering the fact that Claire was living at the town house, he hadn't wanted there to be any possibility that she might overhear rumors of him visiting a demirep. Not that he'd promised fidelity to Claire, but still it didn't seem right to carry on an affair during their engagement.

Given that he enjoyed sex as much as the next man and had a healthy carnal appetite, the next several weeks weren't going to be easy. But as a rational, thinking individual, he had control over his instincts and knew he could do without libidinous pleasures for the time being.

Besides, she would be his soon enough. And once she was, he would do a great deal more than just think about toying with her hair and bouncing her on his lap.

"How was the shopping excursion?" he asked her abruptly, his words sounding throaty even to his own ears. "Were you and Mallory able to find everything you need?"

Turning, she met his gaze, her irises very blue. As he watched, her eyes seemed to twinkle with a curious, almost mischievous light.

But what mischief could there be in clothes shopping?

"The outing was delightful," she said. "Mallory and I found everything and more. Tomorrow we're going shoe and glove shopping."

He gave a faint laugh. "My little sister will be in heaven then. She loves shoes even more than she does clothes. And if I am not mistaken, she already owns enough gloves to match every color in the rainbow."

Claire's eyebrow arched. "Well, as they say, no ensemble is complete without the right pair of shoes and gloves to accompany it."

"Is that what they say?" he asked, his mouth turning up at the corners. "Or is that what Mallory says?"