Devlin shrugged it off. "All is exactly as it appears," he returned, his iron control returning. "Would you like a drink?" he asked far more calmly than he felt.

Tyrell de Warenne made a derisive sound. "Actually, I would." He paused thoughtfully. "I would also like an invitation to supper," he said.

"HOT LOAVES! m.u.f.fINS AND crumpets! A penny for a scone!"

Virginia stumbled, reaching for Devlin's hand. They were making their way up Regent Street, which was, he had a.s.sured her, the best shopping in London.

"Chairs to mend!" another street vendor cried, stepping in their path to bow before Devlin, who did not wear his uniform but a fine dark blue velvet coat with his britches and stockings. "My lord, sir, I mend any kind of chair," he cried.

"No, thank you," Devlin said politely, and trying not to release Virginia's hand, he pulled her past the chairman.

"Fish! Fine goldfish fer the lady!" an old woman cried, waving a bucket at them. "Pretty goldfish! Fine fer the lady!"

Devlin smiled at Virginia, pulling her out of the fish lady's way as well.

But she pulled back. "Let's look at the fish!"

"Virginia," he began.

"It's my turn," she reminded him, smiling and jerking free. "May I see your fish, ma'am?" she asked.

The old lady grinned, with most if not all of her teeth missing, and she lowered the pail so Virginia could see numerous goldfish swimming about, including several black-and-white striped ones. "How beautiful," she cried.

"A penny fer a dozen," the lady smiled at her.

"Virginia, please do not tell me we are buying you fish," Devlin said, but amus.e.m.e.nt was in his tone.

"We are not, no, thank you," she apologized to the vendor.

"Hot loaves! m.u.f.fins and crumpets! A penny fer a scone!"

Devlin looked at her, smiling.

Refusing to move she said, "Please?"

"Thank G.o.d, you are not fat," he said, walking over to the m.u.f.fin man. "Which is it this time?" She'd had a m.u.f.fin and a scone already, all digested in the span of an hour.

"I'll try a crumpet," she said, having not a clue as to what that might be.

Devlin made the purchase and Virginia was presented with a warm and crusty golden bun, which she eagerly tried. "Yum," she said, then to her horror, realized her mouth was full.

He shook his head, then laughed. "Come on. It's taken us an entire hour to navigate a single block."

But Virginia cried out, handing him her crumpet, and ran instead to the huge window display. "Devlin, look," Virginia cried. "Look at the beautiful black lace!"

He came up beside her, still holding the crumpet in its paper napkin. "Do you wish to buy it?" he asked as they stared into the draper's shop.

She did. Oh, how she wished to adorn herself in that black lace, in a red dress trimmed with tons of it, and she looked at Devlin, simply breathless. They would attend a ball together, dance the night away.... Then she thought about the countess. She sobered.

Who was she fooling? She was not the kind of woman to wear red or black lace. "No, I don't think so," she said.

"Change your mind so quickly?" he asked, studying her intently.

"No, I...I don't think it's suitable, really. But it's beautiful," she added wistfully.

"Come. We must make our appointment with Madame Didier," he said, taking her arm and looping it in his.

She glanced at him as they strolled up the block, her heart racing. He kept taking her arm as if they were really lovers-or even a couple. "You do know that one would almost think us real friends," she said hesitantly.

"It is your turn," he reminded her easily. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

She had to beam. "How can I not? Those wonderful m.u.f.fins-those pretty fish-they sell everything on the street, do they not? I saw a man selling dust! He was selling brick dust," she cried.

"It's used for cleaning knives," Devlin said. Then rather casually, he asked, "So what did Sean have to say?"

Virginia faltered. And she hesitated, uncertain as to how she should respond.

His letter had both warmed and saddened her. He hadn't spoken of his feelings, but it was clear that he still cared deeply for her, and after telling her all that had happened at Askeaton in her absence, he had told her that it simply was not the same without her there. She knew his unspoken thoughts-he missed her. And reading it had made her miss him, too, but the way one would a dear old friend, not a lover. It was wonderful hearing from him, but it was also terribly sad, reminding her of a time and place when she had been so crushed and hurt, though she'd refused to admit it. She had been so lonely those five months she had been left behind at Askeaton.

His letter and her reaction to it had only confirmed her real feelings for him. She had never loved him more as a friend. But she hoped that, one day, he would fall pa.s.sionately in love with a woman who would love him back the very same way.

She sighed. "I'm afraid that's none of your affair, Devlin," she said.

"Actually it is, as I have been responsible for my brother's welfare and happiness since he was the age of eight. But do not bother to reveal his secrets, as I can already guess what they are."

"So you are now a fortune teller? Or rather, a Gypsy mind reader?" She poked him with her elbow, smiling and hoping to change the subject.

"Hardly," he said, but he smiled in return.

The seamstress's shop was not what Virginia had been expecting. She had antic.i.p.ated a small shop filled with tables and ladies sewing industriously there. Instead, a stunning young woman with red hair, superbly dressed, unlatched the front door and allowed them into a front hall with polished wood floors and fine Persian rugs. Display cases lined the two walls on either side of the store, boasting hats, gloves, purses and the occasional swatch of fabric or pair of earbobs. Stairs carpeted in red swept up directly ahead.

"Captain O'Neill?" The redhead smiled at Devlin. Her accent was French.

"Madame Didier?" he asked, clearly with some surprise. The woman was no more than twenty-one or two.

"I am Mademoiselle Didier, her niece," the redhead replied softly, her regard not quite seductive. And she faced Virginia. "Mademoiselle Hughes, I presume?"

Virginia nodded, her gaze darting from the elegant and seductive Frenchwoman to the stunning items on display in the hall. It was impossible to decide whether to stare at Madame Didier's niece or at what was for sale in the shop.

"Please, Captain, Mademoiselle, do come upstairs, my aunt is waiting for you."

Devlin touched the small of Virginia's back and she preceded him up the wide staircase, following Mademoiselle Didier.

The salon above had a marble floor and several gracious seating arrangements. An older woman, dark-haired, fine-figured and handsome, came out of another room. "Captain O'Neill, it is such a pleasure to meet you, at last," she cried, rushing to them with a wide smile, her accent stronger than her niece's.

He bowed over her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Madame, and I am very grateful that you could see us at such short notice."

"For you, mon capitaine, I would need no notice at all." She turned to Virginia. "Mademoiselle, ah, what beauty, what pet.i.te beauty, ah, this will be so easy and such a pleasure. Look, Sofie, regardes la pet.i.te!"

A flurry of French followed, the two women beaming.

Virginia flushed, feeling foolish and fl.u.s.tered and wishing she wasn't being called beautiful, as Madame ushered her into the adjacent room. "Does the captain wish to stay and approve our choices or shall you leave the selection of gowns and fabrics up to the ladies?" Madame Didier asked, her eyes twinkling.

"He is leaving," Virginia said quickly as Devlin sat down on a delicate green velvet love seat, dwarfing it. She gaped at him.

He smiled lazily back. "I prefer to approve, Madame. Virginia needs a number of ensembles for day and some ball gowns, perhaps two. I prefer her to be in shades that match her eyes-violet and amethyst would do nicely, I think."

Virginia knew her jaw hung open, but she could not help herself. He was staying? She was to be fitted, and that meant some state of undress.

"And ruby red, mon capitaine, and of course, silver." She snapped her fingers and Sofie held up a swath of iridescent silver fabric that rippled and glowed as the air simply brushed over it.

Devlin's eyes brightened. "Oh, yes," he said instantly. "I like it very much."

Virginia went still, closing her mouth and staring at him as Madame made a happy sound, Sofie now draping the fabric over Virginia's shoulder and chest. He looked indolently over her at her and smiled, but there was nothing indolent about his eyes-the gleam there was bright.

Her mouth went dry.

He wanted to clothe her in the silver tissue and he clearly found the idea arousing. She swallowed hard. "Devlin, why don't you make your suggestions and then leave us for a bit?"

"I am staying." He settled more negligently on the small settee.

Madame chortled happily. "Sofie, where is le rouge noir?"

Instantly Sofie found it and, smiling, held up a sinfully rich dark red satin.

"Mon capitaine, look at this!" Madame cried.

Virginia wanted to tell them that she could not wear that, oh no, that was for a woman like Mademoiselle Didier, it was for a woman like the countess.

Devlin nodded, his eyes warmer and brighter than before.

Madame Didier gave an order to Sofie in French and she began to unb.u.t.ton Virgnia's dark pelisse as Madame sat down and began making notes.

Virginia gasped as it was removed. "I...what are you doing?" she asked warily.

"You must undress. We must take your measurements," Sofie said softly, unb.u.t.toning the back of her dress.

Virginia looked at Devlin for help.

But no help was to be had from that quarter, as he merely crossed his long legs. "Do not mind me," he murmured, apparently relaxing and preparing to enjoy the entertainment.

Virginia felt the dress opening down her back and the delicate touch of Sofie's nimble fingers. She was disbelieving, but not angry. Devlin's eyes continued to gleam and what was actually happening was making her breathless.

Her heart beat far too hard. She swallowed and lifted her arms and allowed the couturier's niece to remove her dress over her head. Madame Didier looked up from her notes and clucked when she saw the pantalettes. By now, Virginia's cheeks were warming, but so was the rest of her body.

She glanced around, to see if there was a window that could be opened, but there was not. "It is still the fashion in America," Virginia lied. She shot Devlin a glance.

He hadn't heard her, as he was quite obviously distracted. His gaze was on her ankles, clad in a wisp of silk stocking, and then it moved to the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, which were, naturally, hard and covered only with the thin wisp of her chemise.

Before Virginia could blink, Sofie removed that garment as well, so she stood clad only in her corset, pantalettes and the drawers beneath. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were bare, upthrust by the corset, and she was briefly stunned. Her cheeks went on fire and she slowly looked at Devlin.

And he, of course, he was staring very intently now.

The air thickened in the room.

It thickened enough that it was very hard to breathe.

"Capitaine?" Sofie asked, and before Virginia could react she held the red satin over her chest, a stunningly sensuous caress against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and she said, as softly, "Imagine that, Capitaine, imagine that."

Virginia bit her lip to cut off a moan. Every inch of her body was now turgidly raised.

"I more than approve," Devlin said far too quietly, his tone rough.

The red satin was whipped away.

"Mademoiselle needs undergarments." Madame stood. "Two corsets, one black, one white, both trimmed with ribbons, with lace. And for each, a chemise to match. Oui?"

Sofie now held up a section of black lace and as Devlin seemed to nod, she whisked it across Virginia's chest. Virginia didn't have to glance at herself to know the lace was transparent.

Devlin's gaze was rapt.

"Le Capitaine is happy?" Sofie said softly.

"Very."

The lace disappeared, followed by a sheer ivory linen, and when that was gone, several ribbons in shades of ivory, cream and pink trickled down Virginia's b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Oui?" Madame asked briskly.

Virginia tried to swallow, but the ribbons were silk and swallowing was now as difficult as breathing.

Devlin nodded, no longer speaking. His gaze moved over the ribbons-over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s-and finally lifted to her face.

She could not look away.

"Use them all with the ivory," he said.

"Superbe, mon capitaine," Madame agreed wholeheartedly. "Drawers to match in the latest fashion, oui?"

"Yes," Devlin said.

"I wish to show you something. A special silk, for the undergarment, very special, mademoiselle will love it. It is downstairs, un moment, s'il vous plat." Madame walked out.

Virginia wondered how she was going to survive the fitting.

Sofie now held up a rich, shimmering dark purple silk against Virginia and a hollow feeling overcame her as Devlin slowly nodded. This time Sofie did not toss the silk aside. "How low, mon capitaine?" Sofie murmured. She adjusted the fabric so that only the topmost swells of Virginia's chest were revealed. "Pour la jour?"

"Lower," he said.