Christabel ran forward eagerly at his entrance, and he scooped her up in a big hug.

"How is my Sunshine today?" he asked while she giggled with delight.

Frederica sternly hardened her heart against the tableau before her, forcing herself to remember that he was a fortune-hunter and a rake.

"I merely pointed out to Mrs. Abbott that a child,

DARING D,~CEPTION.

any child, needs plenty of fresh air and exercise to flourish, my lord," she said stiffly.

"The rules that you have set forth do not seem to allow for that. As I told Mrs. Abbott" -- "I can see that you and I need to talk." Lord Sea brooke set Christabel down and yawned widely.

"But not just now. I need a few hours' sleep before attempting to think coherently.

Before I go to my bed, however, will you answer my question? "

"Question?" Frederica had no idea what he meant.

"Yes. May I call you

"Cherry' as Christabel is to do? It might help me to stand less in awe of you."

Frederica staunchly refused to smile.

"As you wish, my lord," she said primly.

"I shall expect to speak with you this afternoon."

"Very well. I'll send word when I'm at liberty.

Good day, Sunshine, Cherry. " He playfully saluted each of them and sauntered off towards the stairs, fatigue making his limp more p.r.o.nounced than it had been yesterday.

What a thoroughly confusing man he was, Frederica thought, staring after him.

He had an infuriating ability to disarm her even while she knew perfectly dreadful things about his character.

No wonder he had such a reputation with the ladies! If his lightest word could all but make her forget her purpose, she trembled to think what effect the full force of his charm might have. Did he intend to use it to win over his wealthy fiancee? she wondered. If so, she definitely needed to have the match called off before she ever met him as Miss Frederica Chesterton, for she doubted her ability to withstand it. "Why don't I show you how to sew b.u.t.tons?"

she suggested to Christabel, determined to put him from her mind, at least until their conference that afternoon.

CHAPTER FIVE.

GAVIN RO~. ,. ~-o OVER and groaned, squinting against the blinding afternoon light that streamed in through just-opened curtains.

"I'm that sorry to wake you, re' lord but you did say I was to call you at four," said Metzger, his valet. During his many years of service, Metzget had doubled as batman, butler, footman and, on more than one occasion, groom.

Now that he was restored to a single post, he took it that much more seriously, looking after his master's dress and habits far more rigorously than did the ear himself.

"Can it be four already? It feels as though I've just closed my eyes.

Very well, Metzget, I'm awake. You needn't hover," said Gavin irascibly, earning a grin from his man.

"Have a message sent to Miss Cherrystone to meet me in the library in half an hour, then come back to help me with my cravat. I doubt I can manage it myself just yet."

When Metzget had gone to do his bidding, Gavin rose and regarded himself critically in the mirror. Such late nights--or early mornings, to be more accurate--were doing his looks no good at all. He had suggested to his future brother-in- law, Sir Thomas Chesterton, that he be formally introduced to his fiancee towards the end of the Little Season, thinking that would give him time to become used to the idea of matrimony. But if his antics the night before were any indication, he was as far from doing so as he ever had been. The betrothal had seemed such a good idea at the time, a veritable G.o.dsend. Marriage to an he' tress would solve his financial difficulties permanently and give Christabel a mother of sorts in one stroke. With each pa.s.sing day, however, he found himself regretting that necessary decision more and more. He glanced again at his refleetion and winced. If Miss Chesterton saw him like this, she would no doubt cry off at once, making his regrets needless. Nor would Miss Cherrystone--Cherry, he thought with a brief smile--appreciate his appearance in such a state. He reached for a razor.

Half an hour later, shaved, combed and impeecably dressed, Lord Sea brooke descended to the library, looking every inch a peer of the realm. It was odd, he supposed, that the thought of the new nanny's disapproval moved him to action where the thought of Miss Chesterton's could not. Already he had found Cherry an intriguing young woman of unusual intelligence, whose severity with himself was belied by her manner with Christabel. Not only did he value her good opinion, but he discovered also that he rather looked forward to the battle of wills about to be joined.

"I'M SORRY, CHRIST ABEL said Frederica soothingly for the tenth time.

"When your things were brought here, your Molly doll must have been overlooked. I promise to ask Lord Sea brooke about it when I see him this afternoon." She rocked the unhappy child in her lap in an attempt to comfort her.

Christabel had shown herself to possess a decided stubborn streak when, after her dinner, she had refused to nap without her

"Molly Dolly." Patient questioning had elicited the fact that she had not had it since removing to Sea brooke House, but on this particular afternoon, she suddenly wanted it desperately.

"Uncle Gavin will know," sniffed Christabel. "He used to talk to Molly Dolly at our tea parties."

"I'm sure he will," agreed Frederica. This was the second time Christabel had referred to Lord Sea brooke by that name, but she decided against questioning the child about it. Doubtless the earl himself, and possibly Christabel's mother, had striven to hide the truth of the girl's parentage from her.

"With any luck, we can have Molly here in a few days."

At that moment there came a tap at the door, and a man of middle age whom Frederica had not seen before poked his head into the nursery. "Miss Cherrystone?"

"Yes?" She looked up. This must be the valet Mrs. Abbott had mentioned.

"His lordship asks that you join him in the library at your convenience."

His manner was thoroughly deferential, but Frederica doubted that those sharp brown eyes missed much. As he spoke, they took in every detail of herself and the child, as well as the nursery, now a comfortable jumble of toys and books far removed from the ruthless order that had prevailed under Mrs.

Abbott's rule. While Frederica valued order highly, she knew that in a nursery it could be inappropriate if taken to extremes.

"Very well. Lucy should be up in a moment with Miss Christabel's afternoon morsel. I'll be down as soon as she arrives."

"Very good, miss." Metzget bowed out of the room.

On her way down the long flights of steps to the library, Frederica took her three deep breaths and marshalled her thoughts for the confrontation ahead.

During the few hours she had spent with Christabel, she had already formed a sort of bond with the child, and was now determined to do all she could to make her lot easier. Again she could hear Miss Milliken's voice drilling her in the value of thinking through one's method of attack. With an almost militant gleam in her eye she tapped on the library door.

Lord Sea brooke stood as she entered, looking quite disturbingly handsome in a dark blue coat, matching waistcoat and crisp, snowy cravat. A few hours'

sleep had certainly done wonders for him, she found herself thinking.

Thrusting out her chin, she met his gaze squarely through the spectacles on her nose.

"I presume we may talk now, my lord?" she asked before he could speak.

"Yes, my mind is far less fuzzy than it was this morning, Cherry," he said with a disarming grin that sent a most unwelcome tingle down her spine.

"I almost feel I might hold my own in a debate with you now."