"Lily, you and the children will come back with me," Arnold had said. "I am the children's uncle by marriage. If you refuse, I will take them away from you and no court in the country would gainsay me."

"On the contrary, sir," the viscount had said. "Lily and the children will remain here. Won't you have some of the curried sweetbreads? Cuthbert is very fond of them and makes them very nearly edible."

"No!"

"Surely you wouldn't like to just try them, sir?"

"No, I mean, Lily will come with me!"

Knight didn't look at her. He'd already seen her pallor, the stark fear in her fine eyes. He'd known her and the children for all of twenty-four hours. It was bizarre. They had turned his well-measured life upside down. And he was enjoying himself immensely. He didn't allow himself to dwell on the awesome fact that he would be the legal guardian of three-three-children whose existence hadn't troubled his life until just yesterday. "Mr. Damson, I should prefer to eat my dinner in relative calm and peace. We could discuss this, ah, slight disagreement later."

"No," said Arnold, "I want to settle things now."

"Very well," said Knight on a long-suffering sigh. "Duckett, you and the footmen please take yourselves off. We will serve ourselves. How, I don't know, but I assume we will be able to manage."

"Very good, my lord." Duckett led Charlie and Ben away, much to their respective disappointment.

"Now, Mr. Damson," Knight said, "if you won't try the sweetbreads, perhaps the haricot mutton strikes your fancy?"

"There isn't any!"

"Ah, I see that you are quite right. Well, then, some fowl a la bechamel?"

"My lord," said Arnold, growing desperate now at this excess of affability, "I came to dinner simply because I wanted to see Lily and tell her my plans. You are not a close relative; you can have no say in the matter."

"Not as close as Gertrude, that's correct. However, Mr. Damson, it really doesn't matter. The children and Lily remain with me. Very shortly I shall be their legal guardian."

"You can't! I won't allow it! I will get a solicitor-"

"Please do, sir. Perhaps my own solicitor could recommend an able fellow for you. But you know, such a case as this could drag on and on. You, sir, simply haven't a chance in the long run. No, even though your motives are doubtless elevated to the heavens themselves, you must relinquish all thought of the children. They are mine now, and that's an end to it."

"I shan't allow it, my lord. Never."

Knight said very gently, "Mr. Damson, did I neglect to tell you that I am excessively wealthy? I did, didn't I? Forgive me. I am, you know. You haven't a prayer. Now, can we finish our dinner? Lily, do finish your fricasseed chicken."

Lily very nearly choked. She couldn't believe her ears. The viscount was adamant. She had prayed he wouldn't toss her and the children willy-nilly into Arnold's panting arms, but to be her champion? It was beyond what she'd expected.

"You just want to bed her. You just want her to be your damned mistress."

Lily gasped and flushed to her eyebrows, not in embarrassment, but in fury. "You horrible-"

Knight merely raised a hand to shut her off, then gave Arnold a look that shriveled his toes. He felt such a surge of rage at the man's rudeness, it was all he could do to stop himself from stuffing the sweetbreads down Arnold's skinny throat.

Arnold, seeing he'd wrought stunned silence, plowed onward, despite his gut fear of the viscount. "Lily, you can't stay here with him. He'll ruin you-you'll have no reputation left at all. You must come home with me. I-Gertrude wants you very much, truly."

Knight moved back his chair and rose to his feet. He said quietly, "Do stand up, Mr. Damson. I don't want to break your nose whilst you're seated."

Arnold knew he'd gone too far. But it was galling, the cheek of this damned man. Just because he was rich as Croesus and a damned peer of the realm, he believed he could do as he pleased.

"No, I won't rise. You won't break my nose-if you do I'll see you in Newgate."

Knight couldn't help himself. Ugly Arnold had turned into a completely unexpected melodramatic comedy. He threw back his head and laughed deeply. "All right," he said, all neat amiability after he had caught his breath. "I won't break your nose. It is already rather ugly. And, Lord knows, I shouldn't like to be in Newgate. Lily, would you please go into the drawing room now? I should like to finish the business with Ug-with Mr. Damson now. Please, that's right. Don't worry."

It was a half an hour later when the viscount joined her in the drawing room. He stood for a moment, just looking at her. She was by the fireplace, the flames crackling behind her, and she was so beautiful he wanted to- "He's gone," Knight said as he walked into the room. "When Ugly Arnold realized there was no hope for it, he folded his proverbial tent. He didn't want to, mind you, but he did, cursing me, cursing fate, cursing, of all people, his poor wife, Gertrude."

"He-he didn't say anything? About me?"

Knight walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. He held up the decanter, but Lily shook her head.

He sipped the wonderfully warm, wonderfully French, brandy. "About you? Well, I did offer him the children, but that treat he refused, which, of course, came as no surprise. Said it wasn't fair to remove children from their mother. It affected him profoundly-such a consideration." Knight saw the look of relief sweep over her features. Immense relief. He'd already told her that Arnold was gone. Why this show of relief now? He smiled thinly at her, then attacked.

"This afternoon when we were enjoying our verbal fisticuffs, I recall that I referred to the fact that I was but four years older than you. You corrected me, saying that I was older than twenty-three. Now, why don't you tell me the truth, all of it."

Lily had prayed devoutly that that horrid bit of information had slipped by him in the heat of verbal battle. It hadn't. She was a fool to have lost her head so easily.

"Lily?" His voice was very, very gentle.

She cleared her throat and said, "I will be twenty on the second of December, just a bit over a month from now."

"I see." He felt instant and utter rage toward Tristan. None at all toward Lily, the poor girl. Dear God, Tris had taken her to wife when she'd been all of fifteen. A child. And he'd gotten a child on her immediately. "You were a child bride," he said, and his anger would have been evident to the meanest of perceptions. "Your father indeed sounds honorable."

Lily looked at him blankly. The guillotine blade hadn't dropped. Then she understood. He'd drawn the most awesomely wrong conclusion. She sent a silent thank-you heavenward. "I suppose you could say that I was somewhat young."

"Somewhat. You were a bloody babe. I didn't realize Tris was such a-" His bile dried up. Tris was dead. Besides, if Lily had been as beautiful at fifteen as she was now, which was undoubtedly the case, poor Tris hadn't had a chance.

He forced an elaborate shrug. "We will finalize my guardianship soon. Why don't you go to bed?"

Lily walked backward to the door, thanking him with every step, until he threw up his hand to cut her off. "Do stow it, Lily. I'm not such a villain to give you over to Ugly Arnold. You or the children."

She nodded now at the children, just as she'd nodded the previous evening at the viscount when she'd ducked out of the drawing room.

"And that was really all there was to it," Lily finished and smiled at each of the children. "So I think we will perhaps be all right."

She heard Theo's very adult sigh of relief. She stretched forward and patted his arm. "That part about me being very young when I married your father, try to remember and not give it away."

"We're safe," Theo said, and Lily knew he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I think that we will go shopping today. Each of you may have whatever you wish. How does that sound?"

"Anything?" asked Sam.

"Don't be a greedy looby," Theo said in an adult-like voice.

"Well, you know how much money we have," said Lily. "Just keep that in mind."

"Lily?"

"Yes, Theo."

"I'm sorry, I forgot. It's 'Mama.' Do you think Cousin Knight would let me borrow a book or two from his library?"

Lily hadn't the foggiest idea of the viscount's reaction to such a request. It seemed quite reasonable to her. "Why don't you ask him, Theo? He appears to have your well-being at heart."

"I want to ride his cattle," said Sam.

"That, my love," Lily said, "is another matter entirely. I've heard it said that gentlemen are very particular about their horses and little boys. We'll see.

"There's one more thing," Lily said hesitantly, dreading what she had to tell them. "Your cousin Knight will become your legal guardian."

"Why? He isn't our mother," Theo said reasonably. "What difference does it make?"

"He'll just give us a bedchamber and food," said Sam. "And maybe a horse to ride every so often."

"He's pretty," said Laura Beth, and that comment drew all eyes.

"You stupid little girl. Men aren't pretty."

"Don't scoff, Sam," Theo said. He added patiently to his little sister, "Why do you say that, Laura Beth?"

But Laura Beth just shrugged and the thumb went back into her mouth.

Lily felt the lump in her throat. It was threatening. She had to get it out before she was a mute fool. "Your cousin Knight believes you boys should go to Eton. As to exactly when, I'm not certain yet. It's just that he will have the authority to see that you do what he wishes."

Theo whistled. "We've landed ourselves in the soup this time, haven't we, Lily-Mama?"

Trust Theo to see through to the consequences with great rapidity.

"I don't know yet," she said truthfully. "I just don't know. I do know that all of us need to stay out of his way. Now, we must concern ourselves about your ignorance, which is more vast than it should be. After we shop, we'll have lessons, all right?"

Sam was vociferous in the negative. Theo's eyes glowed and Lily felt guilt that he wasn't with a tutor, a real tutor who knew all sorts of things, so many more things than she did. She would have to speak to the viscount.

Since there wasn't a nursery, Lily asked Mrs. Allgood to have their breakfasts brought to her bedchamber. They were dressed and ready to leave Winthrop House by nine o'clock. Sam, thankfully, hadn't done anything dreadful during the thirty minutes when Lily had to leave him to bathe and dress herself.

They met the viscount at the bottom of the stairs. He was on his way out.

"He is pretty," Laura Beth said, her eyes on his pale biscuit-colored greatcoat.

Theo groaned and Sam scoffed.

Lily said easily, "Good morning, my lord. As you see, we are going out ourselves. I am taking the children shopping-each of them deserves a present."

Knight had turned at the sound of Laura Beth's voice. Pretty, am I? he thought, and grinned. But it was a shock to see a woman and three children trooping down his staircase to come to a halt in his entrance hall. The boys looked scrubbed and well turned out. Theo seemed faintly worried, and Knight realized the boy was reacting as would an adult uncertain of his reception. Sam looked like he owned the world and even if he didn't, he'd still do as he wished. All of them were bundled up warmly. Lily was particularly ravishing in a thick, white-ermine-lined cloak of pale blue velvet, an expensive garment of the highest quality. Her muff matched and was of the softest ermine, though neither cloak nor muff looked particularly new. He wondered when Tris had given them to her. The cloak was also a bit short. Of course, Tris had married her before she was even fully grown, for God's sake. Knight shook his head at his errant thoughts.

He smiled. "Good morning to all of you. May I give you a lift somewhere, Lily?"

"Oh, no, I don't wish to impose," she said quickly. "I spoke to Duckett and he told us where to go."

"And that is?"

"To the Pantheon Bazaar."

Knight winced. He saw no hope for it. He didn't entirely trust Ugly Arnold to slither away in defeat. It was possible that he was watching the house, hoping to get Lily and the children alone. Would he abduct them? Knight cursed very softly, then raised his head and forced a smile. He would have Duckett send Raymond a message that he wouldn't be coming to his house for the Four Horse Club meeting.

Manfully, he said, "I should very much like to escort you. After all, we haven't really become acquainted as well as we should be yet."

"But surely you have other plans, sir."

"Not at all," he said, and Lily held her peace even though she knew he was lying. "Consider my poor self at your disposal."

Two hours later, Knight considered his poor self had been disposed of at least a dozen times. He was testy and quite fatigued from Sam's exuberance and limitless excitement whenever he saw something that struck his fancy, and a fancy-striking something was at nearly every shop and booth. As for Theo, he tried to calm down his brother, but that seemed only to have the opposite effect. Laura Beth, equally tired, whined when her thumb wasn't in her mouth and wanted to relieve herself at every odd moment.

The Pantheon Bazaar was filled to overflowing with shoppers. It was a place Knight had visited many years before, at about Theo's age, if he remembered aright. It was a place he never wished to see again. Theo dawdled at every bookstall, much to Sam's contempt. Lily knew that the viscount was becoming less charitably minded by the minute. She didn't blame him. She herself would have liked to grab Sam's earlobe at least a dozen times and shake him. The viscount wasn't used to children, and today was the first day they'd been let loose, so to speak, in nearly a week.

She was on the point of telling them that they would purchase Laura Beth's present and leave, when Laura Beth pulled her thumb from her mouth and started waving Czarina Catherine wildly in the air. "There he is!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "There he is-Ugly Arnold!"

Lily's blood turned cold. Knight looked in the direction of the waving doll, and sure enough, there was Arnold Damson, lurking behind a booth of multicolored ribbons. There was a cretinous specimen with him.

"Oh, no," Lily said and pulled Laura Beth against her. "Sam! Theo! Come here, both of you."

Theo immediately turned, but Sam, in the throes of a new toy that was a hay wagon with real wheels and straw, paid her no heed.

"Sam," Knight said, "get your butt over here now."

Sam looked up, saw his cousin Knight standing there like the imperial emperor, and didn't hesitate. He dashed to him.

"What's wrong?"

"We have company," said Knight. "None of you leave your mother. Sam, do you understand me?"

"Yes, certainly. I'm not a dumb looby."

"That, my boy, is a matter of conjecture."

"Ugly Arnold," said Laura Beth. "He's old."

"Yes, love, he is," Lily said. "He isn't a very nice man either. But don't worry, your cousin Knight will take proper care of him."

I will, will I? Knight thought. She'd said it with such calm conviction. "Come along," he said abruptly. "Let's say hello to Ugly Arnold."

Lily shot him an uncertain look but didn't question his decision.

Arnold saw them approaching and panicked. They weren't supposed to come toward him, for God's sake. They weren't supposed to have seen him. And they weren't supposed to have been with that bloody sot of a viscount. Damnable fellow-he'd found out very late the previous evening, after ingratiating himself with a group of downy fellows, that Viscount Castlerosse was a bachelor who defined the word itself. Him with children? Ludicrous. Ridiculous. Yet here he was, guarding them as if he were their bloody parent. It wasn't to be borne. He said to Boggs, the villain with him, "Let's go, dammit. We'll get them later when he's not about."

Boggs, not at all a shy sort and wanting his five pounds, dug in his heels. "It's just one gentleman, a dandy by the looks of him. I'll clean up the ground with him."

Arnold was undecided. Boggs was a brawny specimen, but the fellows of the night before had also said that the viscount was an athlete, a horseman, a man who took anybody in the ring and beat the wadding out of him. "No, later, perhaps. I want no fighting here. It's too dangerous."

Boggs had to be satisfied with that. He had to obey the bloke what had the quid.