"You must reveal the truth to him eventually. Why wait longer?"

As she had with Thomas that morning, Frederica temporized.

"I have a few days yet before I must begin preparing for my debut. You will act as my chaperone, will you not, Milly?"

Her companion nodded, but her eyes still held a question.

"I'll find a way to tell him before then, I'm certain," Frederica said firmly, trying to convince herself, as well.

Miss Milliken continued to regard her severely, but Frederica quickly stood.

"I promised to be back within the hour, and I have yet to collect Fanfare.

Do help me get him into his cage, won't you?" She still had not the slightest idea how she was to disclose her deception to the earl, and her thoughts instinctively shied away from the possible consequences.

Taking refuge in action, she hurried out to Milly's small garden to collect the peac.o.c.k and made a great fuss over loading the cage into the hackney for the return journey. The driver made no little fuss about the matter himself, and Frederica was fully occupied in soothing first him, then the affronted bird during the trip to Sea brooke House. The matter of her charade would have to wait, at least until the morrow.

That morning, Christabel was up at first light, eager to see the peac.o.c.k.

After a hurried breakfast, she accompanied Frederica down to the garden--openly, for the first time.

"Here, Christabel, throw a bit of grain onto the ground and Fanfare will come right to you.

He's very tame," said Frederica, giving the child a handful of the feed she had brought along.

Soon the peac.o.c.k was eating at their feet. "He's so beautiful, Cherry," said Christabel in an awed whisper, stroking the iridescent neck. "Yes, he certainly is," agreed Lord Sea brooke from the top of the steps leading into the garden.

"Where on earth did he come from?"

Frederica whirled at the sound of his voice, causing the peac.o.c.k to star fie but Christabel answered at once.

"Cherry brought him for me to play with, Uncle Gavin! She says t6s name is Fanfare." She gave Frederica one of her impulsive hugs.

"I just love Cherry, don't you?"

Frederica knew that she had flushed scarlet at the child's innocent question and quickly turned back to the bird to hide her face. The earl, meanwhile, was making a great business of clearing his throat.

"Cherry has certainly been a valuable addition to the household," he finally said rather stiffly.

"I am curious, however, where she managed to find a peac.o.c.k here in the city."

Stung by his dry tone, in which Frederica thought she detected an accusation, she dared to meet his gaze with a challenging one of her own.

"He is mine, my lord. A friend was keeping him for me. You did say that I might bring any pets here that I wished."

Her own voice was sharp.

Lord Sea brooke's face relaxed, and she realized that she had misinterpreted.

"Yes, I did," he replied easily, "and I've no objection to his be- hag here, provided he does not indulge ha that infernal screech hag they are p.r.o.ne to.

I did not realize you had pets even more exotic than mice, Cherry." His look was both teasing and, oddly, entreat hag

For one breathless moment, Frederiea was tempted to pour out the whole story to him, to tell him who she really was and why she was here. He seemed to sense something of her struggle, for the plea in his eyes grew more p.r.o.nounced. Mercifully, she recalled Christabel's presence in time.

"I had Angora goats at one time as well, my lord," she said at last.

"But they are not now ha Town."

"I must be grateful for that, I suppose." Although his words and tone were still light, there was something of withdrawal in his expression. Frederica, her eyes still locked with his, perceived the fact and guessed its cause.

She would have to tell him soon!

"Uncle Gavin, do you want to pet him?" asked Christabel, giving both Frederica and the earl an excuse to break that too intimate gaze. "Perhaps later, Christabel. I came out here to ask Miss Cherrystone if she could find the time this morning to go over the books with Mr. Trent." His manner was suddenly formal. "Ralph, here, can keep an eye on you and your new friend."

He nodded behind them to a lad who had just come into the garden through the gate from the mews.

Ralph, who came two mornings a week to tend the garden, had stopped to stare at the peac.o.c.k, but on hearing his name, he eagerly pulled on his straw-coloured forelock.

"Yes, yet lordship! I'll watch 'em like a hawk!" he fervently agreed.

"Excellent. I've no doubt my niece will be well looked after," said the earl.

Frederica saw the speculative twinkle in the boy's eyes and realized that Lord Sea brooke had chosen his words carefully. Word of Christabel's relationship to him would doubtless begin to spread about Town that very morning, counter- hag Mr. Coombes's vicious rum ours She gave Christabel and Ralph the remainder of the grain and followed the earl indoors.

"Mr. Trent is already ha the library," he said to her as they pa.s.sed into the front hallway.

"I.

am planning an impromptu entertainment to188 night, and have several calls to make, but I hope to join you later on. Feel free to spend as long as is necessary on the books. Mrs. Abbott or one of the maids can take your place with Christabel for the day. "

His tone was still formal, as though he were holding himself rigidly in check. Frederiea looked up at him questioningly, her lips slightly parted while she tried to frame the words she knew she must speak. To her amazement, she saw something like a shudder ran through him and then he turned away abruptly.

"I'll bid you good-morning then," he said almost roughly, and strode towards the front door before she could reply.

Frederica watched him go, blinking in surprise at his odd change of manner.

He must have been preoccupied with his plans for the evening, she decided.

With a shrug, she opened the library door, hoping that she and the steward might find something that would enable her to preface her revelation with good news.

G^VIN wnumr) quickly away from Sea brooke House, his thoughts and feelings in turmoil. Why in blazes had Mrs. Abbott put that idea into his head yesterday?

Since his interview with the housekeeper, he had scarcely been able to think of anything but Cherry. He had concocted this evening's a.s.sembly in hopes of distracting himself, but so far it had not worked. Even the brandy he had drunk the previous night had done nothing but break down his last reservations, finally allowing him to admit to himself the very feeling he was trying so hard now to deny.

He was in love with Christabel's nanny. There it was: the plain, unvarnished truth. He had hoped that in the cold light of day he would be able to dismiss that remarkable discovery as an alcohol-induced fantasy, but if anything, his conviction remained stronger than ever. Never having been in love before, he could attribute the powerful emotions that a.s.sailed him to no other cause.

By thunder, when she had looked up at him outside the library door just now, it had taken every ounce of his control not to kiss her right there, in the front hall! What would she have done if he had? he wondered. Probably slapped him across the face and given notice, he thought ruefully. And rightly so. He had no business indulging in such fancies about a servant, even such an unusual one as Cherry. Especially when he would be meeting his promised wife within two weeks!

Forcing his thoughts to the evening ahead out of pure self-defence, Gavin directed his steps towards Lord Jocelyn's house to deliver his first invitation.

Ma. TmsJ~ was an earnest, ambitious man, but Frederica soon realized that the steward was not particularly clever. He was competent enough, she supposed, to be trusted with the running of an estate diminished to the current size of Brookeside, but she would have been reluctant to allow him the management of Maple Hill. "Did you ever think to cross-check the different account books?" she asked him in exasperation after nearly an hour's work had revealed further puzzles, rather than answers. The steward ran a hand through his thinning brown hair and regarded her nervously. His at- tirade towards her had changed dramatically over the past hour, from amused condescension to bl.u.s.tering defensiveness and, finally, to grudging respect.

"Don't forget, miss, that I've only had the running of Brookeside and the other Sea brooke holdings for a few months. There was no steward at all for the past year and more--seems the old earl kept the books himself after Mr.

Collins retired."

Frederica strove for patience.