"He made a fair income, though."

"He worked hard for it. A regular demon for work."

"Here are the letters. When will you bring the carriage?"

"I wish I could say tomorrow morning, but my trip to the country ... It's a wedding, or I'd put the trip off and get the carriage first. Can you wait three days?" I nodded my approval. "Oh, by the way, I dropped around to Fleury Lane. There's no longer a K. Norman living there. No one even remembers him. It's the kind of neighborhood where people are moving all the time. Little better than hovels, really. Not the sort of place I should like to think of you going to. I'd be uneasy all day, worrying about you. You won't go, will you, Belle?"

I was flattered at his concern. "I have no intention of going. Thank you for all your help, Eliot. You must come to dinner after our servants arrive and make us respectable."

"I look forward to it. Good night, Belle." I reached to shake his hand, but he lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed them. As he bent over my hand I saw his face at an odd angle, with the widow's peak and high brow thrown into prominence. Such an odd sensation, as though it were Graham. I waited for the old familiar lump to rise up in my throat. It didn't happen. I enjoyed the unaccustomed flattery of a man kissing my fingers, but I did not feel it was Graham come back to me. I was coming to appreciate Eliot for himself.

After he left, I took the ledgers and added them to the carton of items to be thrown out. Eliot and Graham were both in my mind. Graham was the worthier man, but Eliot was undeniably more attractive. Graham slaved all day in that little cubbyhole of an office, and he didn't even have to. He had an income, whereas Eliot lived a b.u.t.terfly existence. Nevertheless, the b.u.t.terfly was very kind and courteous to me. A little more than kind, really.

The mood in the saloon was so sullen when I rejoined the family that the tyrant admitted her plans to remain in London, but she laid down some pretty stiff rules of conduct for her mother. She was not to drive out alone with Mr. Stone nor to entertain him without myself to chaperon them. We retired early and spent the morning cleaning house for the arrival of the servants. Hotchkiss was not demanding, but Ettie would be disillusioned with us if she found any dust on what would soon be called "her" tables.

The servants came at noon and bustled noisily about. After delivering a fairly extensive diatribe on the evils of coach travel, they had to decide whether or not they approved of the house. "A regular s...o...b..x is what it is!" Ettie told me. "How that Mr. Sutton ever expected you to live in four rooms is above and beyond me!"

"He didn't, Ettie. He expected me to make use of the upstairs as well as down."

"Fine talking, miss, but where are me and Hotchkiss expected to lay our heads? That attic is like an icehouse, and there's no beds neither."

"Esther and I will move into the master bedroom. You and Hotchkiss will have the rooms we are using at present."

"Sleep on the same floor as the family?" she asked, outraged.

"We won't bite you. It is only for a week at the most."

"There's a deal of linen to be changed, then, and all the unpacking to do. I'll get at it and send Hotchkiss out for real food."

Ettie was a fan of square meals, preferably a roasted joint large enough to feed an army, which means it feeds a small family for half a week, Mr. Stone came to call in the afternoon as threatened. "I've left the carriage standing by, Bridget," he said, and cast a sheepish eye at her.

"You had best tell your groom to drive along," I informed him stiffly. "My mother wishes to remain at home this afternoon."

He glared at me from his bloodshot eyes but sent word to his groom before taking a seat and looking around for a bottle of wine. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Stone?" I asked.

"Eh? I could use something to take off the chill." His eyes wavered to the wine table.

"Fine, I'll call for tea," I said, and pulled the rope.

At two-thirty Mr. Duke was added to our party, and he accepted a cup of tepid tea, for I did not call for a new pot. Duke was completely terrified of me. He sat silent as a Trappist monk, though his expression was less resigned than frustrated. He never glanced at the wine table at all. He scarcely even dared to roll his eyes at Esther. I was sure such Turkish treatment would shorten their visit, but when Yootha landed in at three, my rule was at an end.

"We'll want fresh tea, Belle," Mama ventured.

"Tea? Don't trouble your servants with tea, Mrs. Haley. Wine will do fine for me. Ah, Esther! I see you have attached yourself a fine young beau. Didn't I tell you how it would be? And you, you old reprobate," she said, turning to Mr. Stone. "I hope you are behaving yourself!"

"I'll help you to wine, Mrs. Mailer," he said, and jumped up to fill two gla.s.ses. He brought the bottle to the table and made great inroads into it. Duke looked longingly at the bottle, fearfully at me, and sipped his tea.

"Well, you are all very dull, I must say," Yootha remarked when I began extolling the virtues of St. Paul's. "Shall we have a hand of cards to pa.s.s the time?"

The table was hauled out, I was required to fill the fourth seat, and Duke at last got hold of the wine and some privacy with Esther. The conversation at the card table involved gowns, parties, personalities, and such elevated gossip. The only pleasing aspect to it was that I won rather a lot of money: a pound note from Mr. Stone, who didn't resent it, and a shilling from Yootha, who did.

I was just ushering them out the door, though Mr. Duke still clung to the sofa like a barnacle, when Mr. Maitland came pouncing in. He exchanged curt greetings with the parting guests. I could see that Desmond was excited about something, and it wasn't a happy excitement. Mama busied herself tidying up the card table while I led him to the sofa across the room from Esther and Duke to gain some semblance of privacy. I doubted the others could hear our talk over Esther's giggling. Mr. Duke was beginning to find some favor in that quarter.

"Have you seen Eliot Sutton today?" he asked.

"No, he's out of town. Why do you ask?"

"Whereabouts?"

"I don't know. He had to attend a country wedding. Why do you want to see him?"

"No special reason. I thought he might throw some light on this business of Graham's ledgers. The two of them were close as inkle weavers."

"I asked him about the ledgers," I said, and explained why the entries were not there.

He listened with sharp interest, but when he spoke it was about another aspect of the matter. "I see! He has been to call, then!" A quick flash of suspicion shone in his eyes.

"He came by last night," I said, suddenly angry with myself for feeling I had to explain anything to this impertinent stranger. "I expect to see him again tomorrow. He is attending to a personal matter for me."

"What personal matter?" he demanded.

"Personal means one's own private affair, Desmond. May I know why you've developed this sudden interest in Eliot?"

He put on a conning smile and tried to get around me. "Now, you must know I am interested in any gentleman who is trying to cut me out with the shrew." Duke apparently overheard the last word, for he darted a frightened glance at us, expecting me to go into a rant. I smiled at him very sweetly to let him know I didn't plan to a.s.sa.s.sinate anyone.

"I have no time to think of romance."

"I deem it a mistake for any unmarried lady to let herself become that busy. Let me share your labors. It is not having a carriage and your stubborn refusal to use mine that is keeping you too busy for romance. I believe you inherited Mr. Sutton's carriage. Why don't I hire you a team and have it brought around for your use?"

"Thank you, but that is already being taken care of."

"Would you call that a very personal, private affair?" he asked, and laughed. I had the feeling he had known all along what matter Eliot was handling for me and had needed only to confirm it.

"How did you find out?"

"I went to the stable and tried for a look at the rig. I know Graham was on horseback the night-that night, but I thought he might possibly have hidden the money there. It was a long shot. They refused me permission to see the carriage, but I know you will inform me if you find a pleasant bulge in a side pocket."

"But Eliot's not retrieving the carriage till tomorrow."

"Yes, that's what they said. His groom had been around with your letter and orders to have it cleaned up for duty. And other than the heavy burden of issuing that order to Eliot, what has kept you too busy for romance?"

"Trying to bring this brood of mine to respectability. I want you to know I was a perfect ogre all afternoon."

"Some traces of it still linger."

"I kept the wine bottle closed-well, at least till Aunt Yootha arrived."

"Aunt Yootha? Surely she was Graham's aunt, not yours?"

"That's true, but in the family we were in the habit of calling her Aunt Yootha We have known her for eons at home."

"Now that Yootha's uncorked the bottle ..." He looked to the sofa table, where there was still one drink left.

"Help yourself."

"Shall I help you, too? We'll need another bottle."

"It's in the cellar. Hotchkiss is out shopping, and Ettie is changing linens. It's too much bother."

"Come along, lazybones. I'll go down with you and help you select." He helped me up from the sofa and we got a candle to go downstairs.

"I hope you don't think we are always so informal, Desmond. I usually run a tighter ship, but with this move we're all at sixes and sevens. Here we are," I said as we reached the cellar landing.

Desmond walked down the aisle, lifting an occasional bottle to read the label. "You have some good stuff here."

"Rum goods, Grant called them."

"I was careful to avoid the vernacular, as you had an aversion to it. Slang is strangely seductive, though-I've heard even bishops use it." He set the candle on a barrel and lifted a dusty bottle. "I wonder where he got hold of this claret. An excellent vintage."

"Eliot could tell you. He was Graham's mentor in the wine-department. Eliot managed to get these racks from some house that was being wrecked. He suggested putting the racks here, too, away from the window draft."

His nostrils pinched in, but he managed to control his sneer and settle for mere sarcasm instead. "Then I shan't dare to tell you they ought to be farther away from drafts, where the temperature is more stable. I am beginning to learn that Eliot's word is not to be trifled with. Do you think Eliot would permit our sharing this bottle?" he asked.

"He is only my friend, not my master."

"A very good friend, Belle?" he asked, staring through the shadows at me. "Have you known him a long time?"

"I never met him before this visit. He must have visited Yootha in Bath, but I never chanced to meet him."

"He is a completely new acquaintance, then?"

"Yes, but the friendship was hastened along because of his being Graham's cousin and friend. They are very similar-in looks, I mean."

"Looks can deceive."

"I am not deceived regarding Eliot. I know he's a b.u.t.terfly, but b.u.t.terflies can be charming. And even useful--he's been helpful to us in many ways."

''What ways were these?"

The cellar was an odd place to choose for a conversation, but it gave us privacy, and neither of us made any move to leave.

"He took Graham's personal effects away for us; he's going to bring his carriage around tomorrow. Oh, and incidentally, he checked out Fleury Lane for me, too. K. Norman is no longer there."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. A disbelieving pause, somehow. Desmond looked on the verge of saying something, of contradicting me.

"Why do you look like that? Did you go to Fleury Lane, too?"

"I did, but, like Eliot, I found nothing to report. I'm sorry if I've been hard on Eliot. You know where to lay the blame." He looked at me from the corner of his eye with a quizzical expression.

"Shall we go back up now?"

"We had better, before I do something you will dislike."

I turned and took a step away. His fingers gripped my arm and brought me to a stop. My heart began pounding, and I knew-thought I knew-what he was about. He turned me around and looked at me for a long, silent moment in the flickering candlelight. Then he smiled and said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to kiss you. Not now."

What a contrary man he was! He laughed lightly and picked up the candle, and we returned to the saloon. Duke was behaving with perfect propriety, though Mama, the peagoose, had left the two youngsters unattended.

Esther had wound him around her thumb. "Duke says he'll take us all to the Haymarket as soon as we get our gowns. They should be ready tomorrow. Can we go tomorrow night, Belle?"

"Why are you asking me? You must ask Mama,"

"You know she won't let us go if you don't allow it."

"Who exactly comprises this party, Mr. Duke?" I inquired stiffly.

Duke had obviously given no thought to the matter. "Esther, me, you, of course ..."

"You feel up to escorting three ladies, do you, Duke?" Desmond asked, but his quick glance in my direction hinted at the one he might hesitate to tackle.

"I thought maybe you ... Uncle Charles ... Dash it, there are six seats in the box. We might as well fill them all up, as we'll be paying for them."

"I accept," Des said, "but does Miss Haley accept the inclusion of Mr. Stone in the party?"

I was nearly as eager for the trip as Esther, and it seemed hard to deny Mama her flirt when Esther and I were secure of ours. Three pairs of hopeful, curious eyes stared at me, awaiting my decision. "Good gracious, Mama is old enough to decide for herself. You must ask her, Esther."

Esther bolted off and was back before you could say Jack Robinson to announce Mama's agreement. A new mood of merriment descended on us, as will so often happen at the antic.i.p.ation of a delightful indiscretion. Esther brought out the cards, and we all sat around playing Pope Joan for shillings. We only played for pennies at home, and I was convinced that the gentlemen, who beat Esther and me quite mercilessly, would not demand their winnings.

I misjudged their gallantry. Desmond reached out his hand when we called the game over. My winnings from Mr. Stone were completely wiped out. I had to pay not only the pound note but another two shillings as well.

"That's twice today I've disappointed you," Desmond said as he pocketed the money.

I knew he referred to the episode in the cellar but could not permit him to think so. "Yes, indeed, but my disappointment at your accepting the invitation to the Haymarket palls beside having to pay out hard cash. That really hurts."

He jiggled the end of my nose with his finger and said, "I just want to keep you on your toes. I don't want you to feel you know me too thoroughly. Familiarity breeds contempt."

Duke was nonplussed at such daring as Desmond's actually touching me. He looked wildly at Esther. I began to lead Desmond to the door. "How true. One cannot help feeling contempt at a gentleman's taking familiar privileges with a lady's nose."

"Thank you for the advice. Next time I shall lower my familiarity an inch. I received no lecture for trespa.s.sing on your lips."

"Some familiarities are, of course, beneath contempt."

"Very true; the more pleasant familiarities are quite unspeakable. Speaking of the unspeakable, shall I haul Duke along with me? He'll be here till midnight if I don't."

"Please take him. Is he really all right, Desmond? I thought Esther was only amusing herself with him, but I have noticed a rather soft smile on her this afternoon. It's all your fault for telling her he is sought after.''

"She couldn't do better. Charles Stone is another matter. I'd be wary of any crony of Prinny's. We'll keep a sharp eye on them tomorrow night at the theater. Shall I send my carriage around tomorrow morning for you, or will Eliot have finally attended to bringing your own? You must have any amount of shopping and sightseeing to do."

"I have a strong feeling Mr. Duke will put himself and his carriage at Esther's disposal. It shan't leave the door without me in it."