Cassie did not delude herself. Edmund had not agreed to this task out of the goodness of his heart; his sole concern was that she not bring further shame upon his name.

Gently, she touched his arm. 'Thank you," she said.

Edmund cleared his throat, embarrassed and something else, something she could not identify. "Now then," he said gruffly, "I believe Gabriel spends most afternoons at his shipping offices. Come to my townhouse promptly at one tomorrow afternoon."

Her lessons began the very next day. Cassie approached the first with mingled anxiety and delight. Though she had a hungry desire to read and write, Edmund had only to cast the most idle of glances at her and she longed to disappear forever. But as the week wore on, her apprehension began to lessen. His manner was stiff and formal, occasionally impatient, and always demanding. Like Gabriel, he seldom smiled. But she began to suspect he was not the ogre she had first believed.

She studied him covertly one afternoon. Wings of silver swept back from his temples. His mouth was thin and autocratic, his nose hawk like and arrogant. For a man of his years, he really was quite handsome. Indeed, she found herself speculating, no doubt Gabriel would resemble him as he aged ...

Cassie could not help it. More and more often she was given to wonder afresh what had happened to alienate father and son. When they were together, the tension between them was thinly disguised. And Cassie could not help but note that while Edmund often mentioned Stuart, it was not so with Gabriel. Indeed, were it not for the strong resemblance between the two, Cassie might have been convinced that Gabriel was not Edmund's son at all ...

Cassie returned home from her lessons one afternoon to find Giles opening the door to Lady Evelyn.

"Evelyn!" she cried. "Oh, you cannot know how good it is to see you again!"

Evelyn squeezed her fingers in return. "I convinced Papa it was time to return to London," Evelyn laughed. "Dear Papa! He never could refuse me anything, you know."

Cassie was thrilled, though deep in her heart, she found the duke of Warrenton almost as intimidating as Edmund Sinclair. There was no question that Reginald Latham's stern, unrelenting countenance was highly disturbing.

Were it not for Evelyn, Cassie would have refused any and every invitation that came around. She saw Gabriel only at dinner, whereupon he promptly bowed and informed her he would be spending the rest of the evening at his club. She was too unsure of herself to attend any evening engagements alone, though Evelyn assured her such things were not at all unusual. At Evelyn's insistence, she went to an afternoon tea with the dowager duchess of Greensboro, and attended a garden party given by Evelyn's cousin, the countess of Langston. Though Evelyn ecstatically assured her she had done splendidlv, Cassie was a bundle of nerves the rest of the night.

Finally the night of Edmund's ball arrived. Her gown was lovely, of soft emerald silk that brought out the gold of her eyes and the burnished highlights of her hair. The sleeves were tiny, gathered by shimmering silver thread. Soft, matching slippers had been laid out beside it on the bed, along with a dainty beaded reticule. Bathed and perfumed, Cassie sat before the dressing table while Gloria dressed her hair in a simple but elegant chignon swept high upon her crown.

Finally the last pin had been secured. Cassie smiled at the maid in the mirror. "Gloria, would you mind terribly fetching me a cup of chocolate? My stomach rebels at the thought of food, but a cup of hot chocolate would be wonderful."

"Not at all, mum."

Once the girl was gone, Cassie could sit still no longer. There was no point in dallying, so she decided to finish dressing. She went behind the screen and carefully stepped into the gown. She was struggling with the hooks and eyes when she heard the door open.

"Gloria," she called out. "My fingers are as much muddle as my mind. I'm afraid I need help with these dratted fastenings."

There were several soft footfalls on the carpet. Cassie turned and presented her back, obligingly bending her head to allow the girl better access. Unfaltering fingers made quick work of the rest of the fastenings.

"Thank you," she said with a half-laugh, smoothing the folds of her skirt as she turned. "You're so much more efficient than I -"

Bold silver eyes gleamed down at her. Gabriel slanted her a lazy smile. "I will be happy to lend my services," he drawled, "now or any other time."

Cassie straightened her shoulders. "You might have knocked," she snapped.

"In my own house? I think not."

A suitable comeback failed her. Cassie could only glare her dissatisfaction, but her anger quickly waned at the distraction of his appearance. He wore a dark green velvet frock coat and brocade waistcoat. Skin tight breeches showed off the beauty of his form. There was a froth of white lace at his throat and sleeves, yet never had he exuded a more intense masculinity.

Little did she realize Gabriel's thoughts followed much the same vein. While his fingers had been busily engaged, his eyes fixed hungrily on the naked expanse of her back. He'd fought an overwhelming urge to press his lips to the vulnerable sweep of her nape. Though the gown was admittedly magnificent, the wearer was by far the more stunning of the two. Her neck and shoulders were smooth and bare, devoid of any jewelry. And indeed, such loveliness needed no further adornment. Yet he could hardly have her looking like a beggar ...

He pulled out a long slender case from his breast pocket. Aware of her gaze, he flicked the catch with his nail, offering her a glimpse of the contents. Cassie caught her breath, for inside lay a glittering diamond, vivid and bright, surrounded by a delicate, fragile chain of finest gold.

He lifted it from the case, saying, "This should go well with the gown, Yank." Cassie stood mutely, her head bowed low, while he fastened the chain about her neck. His hands on her shoulders, he guided her to the mirror.

"Well, Yank, do you approve?"

In all truth, Cassie was stunned. Never had she imagined he would lavish such a gift on her. Almost reverently she touched the pear shaped stone. The diamond seemed to flash and gleam with a life all its own. Yet all she could think was how Gabriel's fingers were so very warm; they seemed to burn clear through her flesh.

"It's beautiful," she said softly. A tremulous smile curved her lips as she turned to him. "I don't know what to say, except ... thank you. Thank you so very much."

"Remember I did promise you jewels, Yank." He paused. "Though I had in mind a more substantial means of repayment."

Her smile withered. "I thought this was a gift," she said unsteadily. "Is this ... a favor to be bought then?"

"No doubt that is nothing new to you, Yank. And indeed, I might be interested in what you have to offer. What sane man would refuse a lusty tumble with a wench who looks like you?"

Cassie flinched as if he had struck her. God, he was heartless! Shame, raw and scorching, spread all through her. So he still thought her a whore, did he? Fury rose like a tide within her. In all her life, Cassie could not think when she'd been so fiercely angry.

Her hands were shaking, but somehow she managed to undo the necklace. Resisting the urge to fling it back at him, she grabbed his hand and dropped it in his grasp, determined to show no more emotion than he.

When she trusted herself to speak, she stated levelly, "I do not want this. I will never wear it, so you may as well return it."

"What is this? Would you have preferred emeralds instead?"

Outwardly she was calm, but inwardly she was raging. I will not be bought," she said evenly. "And I would not lay with you for all the gold and jewels in this world. Furthermore, I wish to God I'd stayed behind at Black Jack's."

He laughed. Blast his arrogant hide, he laughed! "Oh, I know you better than that, Yank. You forget just how determined you were to flee that place."

"And had I known that you are such a detestable, loathsome creature -"

"Why, Yank," he drawled. "I do believe your speech is improving." .

Cassie's nails dug into her hand. "You know nothing of me -- nothing!" she said feelingly. "And I have forgotten nothing!"

His smile was unpleasant. "Oh, come now. You've made a far better bargain with me and we both know it. Or perhaps you have changed your mind. Perhaps the matter should be clarified once and for all. So tell me, Yank. Would you rather whore for all men -- or just one?"

Her tenuous control snapped. Her hand shot out, the movement prompted more by instinct than conscious thought. Before she knew what she was about, she delivered a stinging slap to his hard cheek.

It was a mistake. A hand like a vise caught her wrist and wrenched her close, so close she could feel the steely strength of his thighs against her own. Cassie's breath tumbled to a halt in her lungs. She was somehow almost terrified of all she sensed in him.

"I will allow you that once, Yank, once, for I admit I provoked you." His regard was as cutting as the slash of a sword. "But do not think ever to strike me again, for I promise you will rue the consequences."

He released her. His cheek still bore the white mark of her hand, but his features might have been etched in stone. Shaken, trying desperately not to show it, Cassie watched as he pulled out his pocket watch, the watch she had tried to steal, and glanced at the face.

"It's time to leave," he said coldly. "And since this ball is given in our honor," his tone turned mocking, "we dare not be late."

The evening was almost at an end. Though the dance floor was still filled, the guests were beginning to disperse.

How she had made it through until now, Cassie had no idea. She ate. She smiled. She chatted nonsense about the weather. For the first hour, Gabriel bad kept her anchored to his side, to all appearances, the happy, loving couple.

Standing near the terrace doors, Cassie rubbed her aching temples. She longed for the moment they would leave and she could seek her bed -- and forget this night had ever happened.

"Alone at last. I've been trying to find my way through to you all evening, young lady."

She spun around to find Christopher standing before her. Only moments earlier he'd been dancing with Evelyn. His eyes wandered admiringly over her.

"You look beautiful, Cassie." He smiled gently. "But then I expect you know that."

All at once Cassie felt like weeping. Despite the horrible encounter in her room, it wouldn't have seemed so terrible ... if only Gabriel had noticed her ... if only he had given some indication that he saw her as something more than an unpleasant duty.

At some point tonight, her anger had fled, and in its place was a deep, despairing hurt.

Because she had wanted to please Gabriel. She had wanted so much to please him ...

Her efforts to smile failed miserably. "A pity my husband has not noticed." It slipped out before she could stop it.

"Oh, believe me, Cassie, he has. He's always had an eye for a beauty, you know ..."

Cassie made a faint choked sound. "Yes; " she heard herself say. "He does indeed."

For the first time Christopher noted her distress. She was staring at someone across the width of the ballroom. He turned sharply, following her gaze.

Cassie could not tear her eyes from the couple across the room. A tall, dark-haired beauty stood next to Gabriel. Her figure was full, ripe and earthy. She was reminded how Evelyn had told her some women would dampen their chemise so their gowns might cling to their bodies. Still worse, some wore not a single stitch beneath their gowns. Clearly this woman chose the latter, for even from here, Cassie detected the deeply rouged outline of her nipples.

She wasn't prepared for the sheer, stark pain that gripped her heart. Their dark heads were nestled together intimately. Gabriel turned his ever so slightly, so that their lips almost brushed. He was smiling -smiling! -- something he had never done with her. The woman laughed at something he said, and leaned forward, so close that Cassie had no doubt Gabriel was provided an unimpeded view clear to her waist.

What was it Gabriel had said that long-ago day in Charleston? There are other women who are perfectly willing to satisfy my needs. All at once Cassie had the awful sensation this was one of them.

"Christopher," she heard herself say, "who is that woman with Gabriel?"

Christopher hesitated. "Cassie -"

"Tell me," she said through lips that barely moved.

"Her name is Lady Sarah Jane Devon. She is the widow of the earl of Harcourt."

"She is his mistress, isn't she?" God, but it hurt to say the words. It hurt to think of Gabriel with another woman. And why it was so, she did not know...

"She was," Christopher allowed at last. '"Though since his marriage to you, I've heard no rumors of their continued association."

Was he lying? Somehow Cassie found the courage to look at him. What she saw reflected in his face nearly frayed what little was left of her composure.

"Christopher," she whispered, "I'm beginning to think ... what if I've made a terrible mistake by marrying him? He hates his father, and sometimes it's as if he sees us both as enemies ..." To her horror, her voice began to wobble.

He took her hand in his. "Don't fret, lass," he murmured. "Gabriel is stubborn. And where his father is concerned ... well, I suspect there's much that none of us even know about." He squeezed her fingers. "You can't give up. Not yet."

"Why should you care what I feel?" If she sounded bitter, she could not help it.

He chided her gently. "Oh, but I do, Cassie. Do you think because I am Gabriel's friend I cannot be yours?" Oh, but he suspected Gabriel did not know what a prize he possessed. Indeed, Christopher was suddenly very much convinced that the very thing Gabriel did not want ... was the very thing he needed. *

"Come now. Smile. A waltz is playing. And you would make me a happy man indeed if you would dance with me." He swung her lightly into his arms.

He was charming and winsome, and soon coaxed a reluctant smile from her. As they whirled across the polished floor, Cassie might even have been able to relax and enjoy herself had she not chanced to catch Gabriel's eye.

His mistress no longer clung to his arm. He stared directly at her, so long her cheeks grew warm and her heart began to race. And then he was lost from sight as another couple whirled in front of them, blocking her view across the room.

"If you don't mind, Christopher, I've yet to dance with my wife," Gabriel said sharply, appearing suddenly at their side. There was no give in his voice -- he did not ask, he demanded.

"By all means, then."

With that her husband claimed her. Cassie took one glance at his shuttered features and confined her attention elsewhere.

But his nearness was overpowering. His arm was hard about her waist. Dancing with Christopher had been a pleasure. But dancing with Gabriel was an ordeal, for he was tense -- so very tense. Was he still angry? Oh, foolish question, that! She need only look at him to find her answer.

"You are quite an accomplished dancer, Yank. Who is responsible? Christopher?"

That brought her head up in a flash. "And what if he is?" she snapped.

"Then I wonder what else he has taught you. Or perhaps it is the other way around ... no doubt a woman with your background must have many tricks to please a man."

Oh, but he was cruel! "Christopher is a friend," she said, her voice very low. "No more. This I swear."

"A sworn oath from a thief!" His laugh held no mirth. "My lady, I humbly beg your pardon."

With an effort Cassie restrained her temper. "If you do not choose to believe me, so be it. But I know the truth, and to me that is all that matters."

Gabriel's mouth thinned. Oh, but she was so regal -- so dignified! In some far distant corner of his mind, he marveled, for whoever would have thought it possible ... She was trembling, he realized. He drew her close. Subtle though it was, he felt her stiffen. Damn her! he thought savagely. She was always resisting! He pulled her closer still.

Her tone was very low. "Gabriel, please. This is not proper."

"I care not, Yank."

"Please. People are watching."

"So let them watch." His fingers dug into her waist. "You are my wife, Yank."

Oh, yes, she thought bitterly. Unwanted. Unloved.

At last it was over. Gabriel released her. "I've ordered the carriage brought round. Wait for me in the entrance hall."

There was no need to tell her a second time. Cassie fled.

Gabriel did not have to look far to find his quarry. Christopher stood just outside the terrace doors.

"My wife seems to have found quite the champion in you, Christopher."

Christopher's eyes flickered. "Indeed," he said coolly.

"I will tell you what I told Cassie -- that I will not be cuckolded, by you or any other man."

Christopher did not back down in the slightest. "And you insult her by implying she is less than what she is. I will tell you this only once, Gabriel, and if you value our friendship you will listen. Cassie has no claim over my affections other than friendship and concern. I was but trying to give her the comfort you should be giving her. Have you ever considered how she must feel? Alone in a strange land? A father-in-law who despises her? A husband who has used her as a pawn? I think not, for when you should have been with her at Farleigh, you were busy gadding about here in London."

An unpleasant smile rimmed Gabriel's mind. "For an unmarried man," he observed, "you presume to know much about the state of marriage."