Knight's gut tightened with cramp. "What did the gentleman say to you?"

"Nothing."

He stood up, flattening his palms on the desktop. "Lily, I swear I'll thrash you-"

"He simply wanted me to be his mistress instead of yours. Isn't that what everyone thinks I am?"

"Ah," he said. "I thought as much."

"If you thought as much, why did you make me say it?"

"Describe them," he said, his voice sharp.

"The young lady was beautiful, dark-haired, foreign-looking, I thought, very exotic. As for the gentleman, he was older, a rake, I believe the term is, and he was riding a pure white stallion and was dressed entirely in white as well."

"Good God."

"You know who they are?"

"Yes, indeed." Then he began to laugh. He wrapped his arms around himself, his laughter deepening. Lily just watched him, completely at sea. Finally Knight got himself under control. "That lady," he said, "wasn't a lady at all. Her name is Daniella and she is-was-my mistress. You're right about her foreignness. She's very much Italian. As for the gentleman, he's her latest protector, Lord Daw by name, and he certainly isn't a nice man. You were right about that, too."

"Oh."

"You see, my dear Lily, I am such an upstanding, moral gentleman that I dismissed my mistress all of two days ago. Actually, she'd begun to bore me excessively." That wasn't precisely the truth, but Lily couldn't know that. "In any case, I'd already heard that Lord Daw had been sniffing about her, and I've never been one to share. I suppose that Daniella wanted some revenge. On you, it appears. It seems I made the immense mistake of yelling out your name when I took my pleasure with her."

Knight stopped. God, what was happening to him? Speaking like this to a lady, to his cousin's widow? He watched her face. Her eyes were open to him. He saw confusion uppermost, saw her tilt her head to the side in question. He wanted to shake her for her absurd act. He wanted to kiss her until she made that siren's sound again, until she fell on him and tore off his clothes.

"Lily," he said, and he sounded as if he were in pain. "Forgive me for my loose tongue. It was an improper thing to say and-"

"You should hear Sam if you wish to learn about improper."

He smiled at that, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "What you did was more than stupid. I shan't tell the boys, you may be certain of that, but Laura Beth knows you were gone. She yelled her head off and Betty came for me."

"I thought she was sound asleep."

"Well, she was until something woke her and you weren't there, nor were you to be found."

"Mrs. Allgood said you took care of her."

"What do you expect? That I would leave her bellowing to the rafters? Of course I took care of her."

It was Lily's turn to raise her hand to quiet him. "The problem still remains. Do you truly believe people will stop talking about you if the children and I are gone from London?"

"Naturally. Out of sight, out of the gossip mills, the saying goes. If you approve of John, then all of you will leave for Castle Rosse in the next couple of days."

"I don't believe you."

"That people will cease their talk?" Knight shrugged. "You don't know society the way I do. This is my particular jungle, Lily. I know the rules-Lord, I helped form some of them and I know how their minds work. You aren't here to be ogled and you no longer exist."

Lily rose from her chair. "All right," she said and looked yet again at the globe.

"Do you wonder where Ceylon is? Or are you trying to locate a small island to flee to?"

"No, it's just that I'm embarrassed about last night. I didn't thank you, Knight, for saving me from Ugly Arnold and his awful friend."

"You're quite welcome."

"I'm also embarrassed about what happened later, in the hackney. I'm sorry I upset you."

He was stunned into silence. He'd attacked her, for mercy's sake.

After a moment she continued, sounding genuinely confused. "I'm sorry I behaved so oddly. I don't understand how I could have done such things. If I offended you I am truly sorry. I hope you will forget it."

"You may be certain that I shan't."

She looked at him helplessly, her expression strained.

He spoke very softly. "Do you have any idea what it is like for a man to have a woman offer herself so completely, so freely, to him? To trust him with all of herself? No, of course you don't. Dammit, go away now or I'll say more stupid things. You could at least demand an apology from me, Mrs. Winthrop. I wasn't particularly a gentleman last night. Good God, I not only attacked you, I insulted you." He sighed. "Oh, Lily, please leave now, and if you wish, take the globe with you. It is better, I think, than looking at the idiot male who stands before you."

She moistened her lips. "I'm sorry, truly I-"

"Be quiet. Do you think me an idiot? I know it wasn't me in particular you were responding to. God, how insanely happy Tris must have been for the past five years. To have your passion, your trust; to possess you."

Even as he spoke, she turned on her heel, picked up her skirts, and ran toward the door. He watched her tug on the knob until finally it gave. He thought he heard her sob but couldn't be certain. He was a bastard. He'd hurt her again. He hadn't meant to; he'd just meant to put her in her place.

Whatever that was.

John Jones, Tilney's younger brother, was a likable young man of slight build, wide forehead, and intelligent brown eyes. Better yet, he had a sense of humor, and more importantly, he didn't fall, smitten dumb, at Lily's feet. Knight didn't leave her alone with him. He simply couldn't bring himself to do so. If the fellow succumbed, he wanted to be there to personally boot him out.

After John, as he'd insisted Lily call him, had gone, Knight said, "So you approve, Lily?"

"Oh, yes. He is a very nice young man. The boys will get along quite well with him, I'm sure."

"Better yet, he didn't fall instantly in love with you."

She merely smiled, as if he were speaking nonsense. "I wish the boys could have met him."

"They'll meet him on Wednesday. Sam and Theo trust your judgment."

"And yours, of course."

"That's right. Oh, by the way, Theo begins his stint in my library in an hour or so. Trump will assist him to get things started. When he arrives at Castle Rosse, he will continue his work in the library there. It is smaller but, as I recall, in much worse shape."

"Thank you."

He waved that away with a show of impatience. "Should you like to go out for a while? It's warm enough, at least the sun is out, and you can bundle up."

She actually shrank back into her chair. "Oh, no."

He eyed her. "Coward."

"You're right about that if it means I want to avoid more awful insults."

Knight said nothing, merely took a turn around the room. Lily stayed put and watched him. She couldn't seem to help herself. She sighed, remembering the feel of him, the sensation of his hands on her, how his mouth- "Lily, stop it."

Knight swallowed. He'd turned to say something and there she was, staring at him as if he were naked, or soon would be, by her hands, her eyes hungry for him. God, it was wonderful and intolerable.

"I'm going out, Lily. I shan't be here for dinner this evening." He headed for the door, then stopped abruptly. "You will be here when I return, will you not? You don't intend to bolt again?"

She shook her head, saying nothing.

"I bid you good day." And he was gone.

And Lily thought, I keep driving him from his home, but I don't know how or why. She rose slowly and left the library just as Theo and Trump came in, Knight's secretary laughing at something Theo had said. Lily heard Theo exclaim over the very excellent collection his lordship possessed on horse breeding.

"Hi, Mama," Theo said, smiling brightly at her. "This is just wonderful, isn't it?"

Lily patted his arm, then smiled at Trump. "Thank you for your assistance."

She was halfway up the stairs when there came a knock on the front door. She paused, hearing Duckett walk to the door in his magisterial way and open it.

His greeting to the visitors was glacial. Tradesmen? she wondered. Then she heard her own name-Lily Tremaine. Oh, God.

Duckett regarded the two specimens that stood on the front steps. One of them looked fit enough to kill his own mother, with his low forehead and mean eyes; the other one had bloodshot eyes, a weak chin, and a very ugly face. And here they were asking for Mrs. Winthrop, save they had her name wrong. He said in a voice cold enough to freeze honey, "She isn't here. There is no Lily Tremaine in residence here."

Monk eyed the short and dark and impressive butler. What a scabbler, this puffed-up little cock. "Lookee 'ere, we knows she's 'ere. Fetch 'er, else ye'll be sorry. We're friends of 'ers, we are, and-"

Not at all likely, Duckett thought, and very efficiently slammed the door in their faces. It was done so quickly that Monk had no time to react. Boy automatically took a step back at the black rage on Monk's face and nearly fell down the remaining five stone steps.

"Ye bastid!" Monk raised his fist to pound, then thought better of it.

Duckett turned, his face troubled. He saw Lily and quickly went over to her.

She looked more puzzled than scared, he thought, but she was clutching the railing. "Who were they, Duckett?"

"A couple of scoundrels, ma'am. They're gone now. Odd, they asked for you by your father's name. It was Tremaine, wasn't it?"

She nodded, relief flooding her. She felt the full weight of her lie in that moment but resolutely shrugged it off. She'd gotten a brief glimpse of the big man, the one who'd spoken to Duckett. He was a villainous-looking creature and she wouldn't trust him as far as Sam could spit, a phrase of the child's that she found particularly apt at this moment. They had known Tris, obviously. They had known of her, just as clearly. What could they possibly want with her? It was a question she couldn't answer.

"They probably made a mistake," she said finally to Duckett, and that stately individual just looked at her.

She went upstairs to the guest chamber that overlooked the front of the house. She saw the two of them standing in the park opposite. One was speaking, the other gesticulating toward the house. Lily quickly pulled away, twitching the curtain back into place.

She was afraid. Something was very wrong.

"Mama?"

Lily turned to see Laura Beth standing in the doorway, Czarina Catherine under her left arm. "Yes, love?"

"Czarina wants to play now. With a grown-up, she told me."

"All right," Lily said, her voice distracted. She had to get hold of herself. She and the children would be leaving London in a couple of days. She had to stay in the house until then. She said, smiling and calm, "Let me see what Sam's doing first, Laura Beth."

She was just in time. Sam was standing on a chair in front of a very old oil painting of some Elizabethan Winthrop complete with a wide white ruff, silk doublet, and stuffed trunks.

There was a quill in his outstretched hand and he was poised on the brink of artistdom.

"Sam, don't you dare."

He whirled about and tumbled from the chair, landing on his bottom.

After seeing that he wasn't hurt, Lily allowed herself full rein. "What were you going to do?"

Sam twitched and hemmed and hawed and admitted finally, "I was going to give the fellow a mustache. He needs it, Mama. He's got no upper lip. It makes him look shifty."

"Oh, Sam, how could you? I admit that the fellow isn't such a wonderful specimen to look at, but you can't do things like that. The painting doesn't belong to you. I should draw a mustache on you."

"That is a sight I should enjoy."

Both Lily and Sam stiffened in appalled silence.

Knight came down the corridor to them. "That, my dear boy, is a great-great-great-someone whose noble appellation, fortunately, I am unable to recall. He was, I was informed by my tutor, quite a villain." Knight moved closer to the painting and stood there studying it, stroking his chin. "I think you're right, Sam. He has no upper lip. I should, however, appreciate it if you would refrain from including a mustache at this time. Perhaps he'll improve given another century or so."

With that monologue completed, Knight saluted Lily and left them, striding down to his bedchamber at the end of the corridor.

Stromsoe suddenly appeared. He harrumphed as he passed, giving Sam a look that could curdle milk. "Evil boy" he was heard to mutter under his breath.

"Clodpole prig," Sam called after him.

Stromsoe paused and Lily held her breath. She grabbed Sam's hand, squeezing it hard. The valet didn't turn in the end, thankfully, but continued after his master.

"Oh, dear," Lily said on a sigh. She rose to her feet and pulled the chair to its rightful place.

"Give me the quill, Sam."

"Ah, Mama-oh, all right."

Sam expected a good tongue-lashing, but it didn't come. He saw that Lily was frowning, a worried frown, and he felt guilty about the silly portrait and the prig valet, though not that sorry. Stromsoe also had little upper lip and a weak chin to boot.

"I'll play with Laura Beth, Mama," was his handsome offer.

"Thank you, love. Be gentle with Czarina Catherine, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Allgood cleared her throat. Lily looked up from the puzzle she and the boys were putting together.

"His lordship requests your presence for dinner, Mrs. Winthrop."