"Since the mountain wouldn't come to Mohammed, Mohammed had no choice but to come to the mountain," Max observed, straightening slowly, turning to look at his sisters-in-law.

"I told Con you wouldn't like it," Prudence said. "We brought tea, but I see you have some already." She poured for herself and Chast.i.ty and the two of them sat companionably in their night robes on the bed beside Max, who seemed as unconcerned as they about their dishabille.

"Actually, it's very convenient that Con's here," Prudence said, "because we have an appointment with Gideon Malvern in his chambers athalf past eight." "Did he agree to take the case?" Max took up his teacup again.

"Prue persuaded him," Chast.i.ty said. "I think he fancies her, but Prue's not saying."

"Chas," Prudence protested.

"It's only Max, and he's family," her sister said. "And I didn't say anything about your fancying the

barrister."

"I told you perfectly clearly what I thought of him," her sister stated.

"And what's that?" inquired Max.

"Eminently dislikable," Prudence said crisply.

"Just the reaction Con had to-" Chast.i.ty stopped, coughing violently, the cup rattling in her saucer.

"You are so indiscreet, Chas," Prudence accused.

Max raised his eyebrows. He was far too used to the sisters to be in the least surprised or put out by

anything they could say or do. He glanced at his wife for enlightenment.

"Don't give it another thought, Max,"Constanceinstructed. "We were just being silly, as is our wont."

"I don't believe I've ever seen any of you being in the least silly," he commented. "So I'll take that as a

roundabout way of telling me to mind my own business." He stood up. "I'll leave you to get dressed and keep your appointment." He put his cup on the dresser. "You will be back for luncheon,Constance." It was statement rather than question.

"Yes, of course." She gave him a placatory smile. "We'll probably have coffee at Fortnum's to fortify ourselves after our ordeal in chambers, but I'll come straight home afterwards."

He nodded, kissed her again, kissed her sisters on the cheek, and left the bedroom.

"Sorry, Con," Chast.i.ty said. "It's too early in the morning for me to think clearly."

"Oh, it doesn't matter in the least," her sister rea.s.sured. "Max knows perfectly well what I thought of him when I first met him. I still throw it in his face when we fight."

"I remember when you threw a vase of daisies in his face," Chast.i.ty said with a laugh.

Constanceshook her head. "I do rather regret that," she said ruefully.

"Well, that's water under the bridge," Prudence stated, sliding off the bed. Ordinarily she would have

been happy to reminisce with her sisters, but she was filled with a restless impatience this morning. "We need to turn our attention to Gideon Malvern. Did you bring a day dress, Con? Or do you want to borrow something?"

"No, I packed a skirt and jacket."Constancethrew aside the covers. "It's not quite as smart as I would have brought if I'd known I wouldn't be going straight home this morning, but it'll do. I don't have a hat, though. Should I borrow one? Is he a great stickler for the niceties?"

Prudence gave a short laugh. "Not when it comes to taking liberties."

Constancepursed her lips. "He's not going to be doing that when we're all together."

"He's not going to be doing it ever again," Prudence declared, going to the door. "I'm going to keep a hat pin up my sleeve. Come on, Chas. We'll see you in the breakfast room in half an hour, Con."

In her own bedroom Prudence reviewed the contents of her wardrobe. It was time to abandon the ill-fated attempt at old-maid dowdiness. But she must still avoid all hint of frivolity. She wanted something that said...said what? She chewed her lip, riffling through the silks, tweeds, wools, velvets. Cotton or muslin would be too thin for a crispish autumn morning. What image did she want to project to Gideon this morning?

Definitely businesslike. Nothing too dressy that would look as if she had made a particular effort...but nothing too understated either. Something suitable for an everyday business appointment, but with a little extra flair to it. Much as she hated to admit it, her pride had suffered sorely under her previous disguise.

Prudence, her sisters would agree, had an infallible dress sense. She always knew what would suit a particular occasion and her sisters happily bowed to her judgment. She pulled out a rather smart black woolen suit that had belonged to her mother and had gone through several reincarnations to reach its present form. Lady Duncan, her daughter remembered, had worn it when she was in a confrontational mood. And Prudence was in a confrontational frame of mind.

She laid it on the bed and tried pairing it with a severe white silk shirt, high-b.u.t.toned at the neck, and stood back to examine the effect. No, she decided instantly. Much too funereal. She turned back to the wardrobe, and found what she sought.

The dark red silk blouse with a floppy cravat like tie at the neck was exactly right. It lightened and softened the black suit but it was also very elegant and the color was almost indistinguishable from her hair. So, no hat; definitely no hat.

When she came downstairs to the breakfast room as the grandfather clock in the hall struck seven, her sisters were already there. "Oh, bravo, Prue," Chast.i.ty applauded.

"Yes, exactly right,"Constanceagreed, b.u.t.tering a piece of toast. "No hat, though."

Prudence laughed and shook her head. "The pompadour is good enough, I think." She touched her hair that was piled and pinned on top of her head over pads, forming an elaborate coiffure.

"Perfect,"Constancesaid, reaching for the coffeepot to fill her sister's cup. "Chas and I are dressed to fade into the background so that you can take center stage."

Prudence merely grinned.Constancewas wearing a gray-and-white-striped skirt, tightly belted at her narrow waist, with a dark gray fitted jacket and neat b.u.t.toned boots. Chast.i.ty wore a dark green dress with a bolero jacket and full sleeves that b.u.t.toned tightly at her wrists. There was no possibility of either of them fading into the background when it came to fashion, even though both outfits, like Prudence's, had been through several makeovers.

"I would have thought you'd have abandoned your pre-Max wardrobe by now," Prudence remarked, cracking the top of a boiled egg.

"Somehow it goes against the grain to throw away perfectly good clothes,"Constancesaid seriously. "You could give them to charity," Chast.i.ty suggested, dipping a finger of toast into her own boiled egg. "I haven't had a chance to go through them yet,"Constancepointed out. "Anyway, this was one of Mother's favorites. Now, Prue, prepare us a little for this morning. We need to come up with a concerted attack...or defense. I don't know which we're talking about."

"Probably both," her sister said.

Gideon had reached his chambers soon aftersix o'clockthat morning. The janitor had lit the fires in both chambers but the coals were still showing little life. His clerk had not yet arrived, so he lit the spirit stove, set water to boil for the strong coffee that would compensate for too little sleep, and hauled selected tomes off the bookshelves. Once settled at his desk, still wearing m.u.f.fler and gloves because the night's chill took a while to disperse through the ancient stone walls despite the fires, he looked for precedents on a libel suit when the defendants were anonymous. By the time Thadeus had arrived an hour later, the barrister had found none.

Thadeus flourished his toasting fork and offered toast and marmalade.

"Yes, thank you," his employer grunted in response to the offer, heaving open another volume.

"Trouble, Sir Gideon?" Thadeus hovered in the doorway.

"Anonymous clients, Thadeus." Gideon looked up, two fingers pressed to his eyes.

"There was a libel case, sir, in 1762 I believe, when the defendants were shielded from the court by a

curtain." Thadeus disappeared into the outer chamber, returning almost immediately with a plate of hot b.u.t.tered toast. "More coffee, Sir Gideon?"

"Yes...and the precedent." Gideon bit into the toast.

"Right away, Sir Gideon." And it was right away. Within a minute, Thadeus set down the relevant volume, opened at the correct page. A nicotine-stained finger underlined the pa.s.sage in question.

"You are without price, Thadeus," Gideon said without looking up.

"Thank you, sir." Thadeus was well pleased. "I'll show the ladies in when they arrive."

Gideon looked up. He examined his office and found it wanting. "Oh, yes, and see if you can find

another two chairs. I can't have two sisters standing."

"I have already done so, Sir Gideon. Sir Thomas Wellbeck's clerk has lent us two extra chairs."

"Again, Thadeus, you are without price." This time Gideon smiled. His clerk returned the smile.

"At your service, sir. Always at your service." He backed out.

Gideon finished the last piece of toast as he read, then he wiped his fingers on the napkin thoughtfully

provided by his clerk and drained his coffee cup. He had the beginnings of a strategy now. He heard the door to his outer office open at preciselyhalf past eightand rose to his feet behind the table to greet the three sisters as Thadeus showed them in.

His greeting smile was bland and courteous, no indication of his swift a.s.sessment of the sisters. He had been very curious to meet the other two and was not disappointed. They were as striking a trio of women as a man could hope to meet. And Prudence, now sporting what were clearly her true colors, had an even more powerful presence than he had expected. He was hard-pressed not to laugh at the memory of her previous incarnations when compared with this elegant, impeccably dressed woman. Her fashionably elaborate hairstyle showed off the rich, l.u.s.trous color of her hair, complemented so beautifully by the red blouse. Gone too were the thick horn-rimmed gla.s.ses. In their place a delicate pair of gold-rimmed spectacles that perched on the bridge of her nose and offered no impediment to the view of the light and vivid green eyes beneath. She was a sight for the sorest of eyes.

His swift a.s.sessment led him to conclude that there was something almost formidable about the front they presented. Despite their very obvious individuality in both appearance and manner, they seemed to share an aura of combative intelligence. The same kind of sharp intellect that informed the content and writing of The Mayfair Lady. The barrister in him noted this with satisfaction. They would make excellent witnesses. Except, of course, that they were insisting he couldn't put them on the stand.

But he would meet that difficulty head-on. He became aware that he was the subject of silent scrutiny and a.s.sessment byConstanceand Chast.i.ty and he couldn't help wondering what Prudence had told them about the previous evening. Prudence herself was giving nothing away. Her expression was composed and unsmiling.

"Good morning, Sir Gideon," she said formally. "May I introduce my sisters."

"Let me guess." He came out from behind the table, hand extended towardsConstance. "Mrs. Ensor. I'm delighted to meet you."

Constancetook the hand, her own grip as firm as his. "I won't ask how you guessed."

He merely smiled and turned to Chast.i.ty. "Miss Chast.i.ty Duncan."

"That's me," Chast.i.ty said, her handshake every bit as decisive as her eldest sister's. "Do I look two years younger thanConstance?"

"Somehow, I don't think I want to step into that particular quicksand," he said, waving a hand to the three chairs. "Please...sit down."

They sat in a semicircle facing him, all three coolly composed, hands resting in their laps. All three of them had green eyes, he noticed somewhat distractedly. Prudence's were lighter than her elder sister's, and Chast.i.ty's had hazel lights in their depths. The same with their hair, three different shades of red.

Dear G.o.d! What an impression they would make on the witness stand.

He cleared his throat. "Mrs. Ensor, I understand you were the author of the offending article."

"The article in question," she stated. "I did not, and indeed do not, consider it to be offensive."

"Nevertheless, it certainly offended Lord Barclay."

"Some people are offended by the truth."

"Yes, quite inexplicable," he observed, taking up the relevant issue of The Mayfair Lady. "Hard to imagine why a man would be offended at being accused in a public forum of being a rapist, a despoiler of young girls, a cheat, a thief, an embezzler." He set aside the sheet and regarded the sisters, who met his ironic gaze with unwavering sangfroid.

"I thought we'd covered this ground yesterday," Prudence said. "And we also dealt with the issue that no one of us is responsible for this libel suit. We are all involved to exactly the same extent. The Mayfair Lady is the defendant. And that publication is a composite of theDuncansisters."

"You're not making my task any easier."

"We don't intend to make it any more difficult than it has to be," Prudence said tightly. "Our views on Lord Barclay are clearly stated in the article. If we hadn't believed in the truth of the accusations we would not have made them." She glanced at her sisters and saw that they were willing to let her lead the advance. She could also see that behind the shared calm exterior they were aware that the rude and imperious side of Sir Gideon Malvern was definitely coming to the fore.

Gideon glanced down at the paper again. "Yes, it's clear that you are all champions of the downtrodden female. I a.s.sume you are also suffragists."

"What have our political opinions to do with this?" demanded Prudence.

He looked over at her. "A jury may not find them sympathetic."

"And we need a sympathetic jury,"Constanceput in.

"Quite frankly, I think that's going to be very hard to find."

Chast.i.ty leaned forward in her chair. "Sir Gideon, are you so desperate that just the faintest chance of coming away with eighty percent of possible damages is sufficient motivation for you to take on a case that you clearly don't believe in?"

On the rare occasions when Chast.i.ty was roused to anger she could outdo both her sisters. Prudence and Constance exchanged a quick look but said nothing.

Gideon's nostrils flared for an instant, then he said, "I thought your matrimonial agency was going to find me a suitable wife as payment for my services." There was no mistaking the disdainful note in his voice.

"You might need to cultivate a more pleasant manner," Prudence stated. "We can't work miracles."

"Neither can I, Miss Duncan." In leisurely fashion he reached for a silver cigarette box on the table beside him. He flipped the lid. Hesitated. Some women did smoke these days, but only in private. In general it wouldn't occur to him to offer the box to a woman, but with these three...? He gave a mental shrug and leaned over the desk, proffering the box first to Prudence.