"I don't even know him." She looked him in the face, her anger goading her on. "You want me to marry?"

"It's not what I want that matters. It is what has to be done."

"And I get to choose, is that correct?"

He swallowed. "I'll get you whichever man you want."

Lily pursed her lips, pretending to contemplate. "If I can have anyone I want, then I think I shall choose someone not on your list. I believe I will choose your friend, Mr. Savage. Can you get him for me?"

Royal's tawny eyebrows slammed together. "Savage! Now you are the one who is mad. The man is a dedicated rogue. He wouldn't be true to you for a moment."

She knew that, of course. Jocelyn had told her all about Jonathan Savage. "All right, then perhaps I'll have Lord March. He seems a nice enough fellow."

Royal's features went dark. "March is...March is too much of a perfectionist to make a good husband. He is searching for the perfect female and I doubt he will ever find one who meets his exacting standards. He would be a very bad choice indeed."

She tapped her chin with her finger as if she was thinking it over. "I can see where that might be a problem." She flashed a triumphant smile. "I have it! I'll marry your brother Rule! He is handsome in the extreme. He is young and I imagine quite virile. I suppose if I have to wed-"

"Not Rule! There is no way you are marrying my brother!"

She laughed then, because he was jealous, as she had hoped he would be. He didn't want her to marry his brother or any of his friends.

"You don't have to worry, Royal. I'm not going to marry anyone. I told you-I have a life of my own and I am quite content."

"But...but what if you are with child?"

"I'm not."

"You know that for certain?"

Her face went warm. Her monthly courses were hardly a subject she wished to discuss. "I am certain." She was sure she wasn't pregnant, though deep inside that same little part of her still wished she were.

Royal raked a hand through his hair, shoving the golden strands into slight disarray. "Well, that is one less worry, I suppose."

"I suppose," she said, wishing she meant it. "Now, if you are finished, I would like you to leave."

For several long moments he just stood there. She could feel his gaze burning into her. The air seemed to thicken and warm, seemed to swirl around them, pulling them closer together. The tension between them seemed almost a tangible thing, changing direction, turning into something else entirely. Her breathing grew shallow and so did his. Her heart was thrumming. His lion's eyes seemed to hold her rooted to the floor.

With a growl low in his throat, Royal reached for her, but Lily backed away. She couldn't risk it. A single kiss and she knew she would be lost.

"I...I want you to leave."

A tremor went through him and she realized how hard he was fighting for control. Royal took a shaky breath and nodded. "You are right, of course." Still he made no move.

"Royal, please..."

He studied her face a moment longer, taking in each of her features, then wordlessly turned and started for the door. The bell rang as he opened it, and the moment he stepped outside, Lily burst into tears.

"She hates me. Every time I close my eyes, I see the hurt and disgust in her eyes."

"She doesn't hate you." Sherry lounged in a deep leather chair in front of the hearth. Cracks spidered the once-expensive leather, but the seat was still comfortable, and orange flames curled over the grate in the hearth, warming the study.

"She might be angry," Sherry continued. "After all, you did take her virginity without benefit of marriage-but she doesn't hate you. I am sure she appreciated your efforts to make things right."

Royal scoffed. "If she'd had a pair of sewing shears, the lady would have cut off my bollocks."

Sherry laughed. "So she wasn't impressed with our list."

"You might say that."

"I have to admit, the girl has more grit than I had believed. She's been doing a smashing job with this Tsaya thing. If you watch her working, you forget she's the sweet little lamb you ruthlessly seduced."

Royal grunted. "I appreciate the reminder."

Sherry just laughed. "You needn't look so guilty. The lady is far tougher than she appears. If she hadn't wanted you, you never would have had her."

It was true. Lily was tough and vulnerable at the same time, and she was the sweetest, most desirable creature he had ever known.

"At any rate," Royal continued, "she refused to consider marriage to anyone. She says she has her own life. She doesn't need a man to take care of her."

"Good for her. Of course, we all know it isn't true. There isn't a female on earth who wouldn't be better off under a man's protection."

Royal frowned. "Annabelle Townsend seems to do well enough."

"True, but Anna's late husband left her very well settled. The only income your Lily has is whatever she might earn from her millinery shop."

Worry swirled through him. He looked down at the stack of bills on his desk. The cost of the scam they were running had begun to add up. Yesterday, at Charles Sinclair's instruction, Jack Moran had rented an apartment for Tsaya. Very soon now, Sinclair believed, Loomis would wish to pay the Gypsy a call.

Along with those expenses and the staggering amount of money necessary to run a dukedom, he could barely make ends meet. At least the brewery he had built was doing well. Swansdowne Ale was gaining a reputation as one of the finest in England. Still, the costs of the endeavor had not yet been repaid. There was no profit yet, though he hoped that eventually there would be.

"Once Jocelyn and I are married, I will make certain Lily is well cared for," he vowed. "She is part of Jocelyn's family, after all. It would only be proper."

Sherry swirled the brandy in his glass, took a slow swallow. "Perhaps you could make her your mistress. That would solve any number of problems."

It wasn't the first time the thought had occurred, only the first time it had been put into words. Erotic images arose: Lily naked, awaiting him in the town house he rented for her; Lily lying on top of the bed, her slender legs spread wide to receive him, her breasts like ripe plums, inviting him to taste them. Desire stirred to life and the blood began to pool in his groin. Royal bit back a groan and forced the images away.

"If only I could." But Lily deserved a better sort of life than that and he was fairly certain she wouldn't agree even if he asked her. God's teeth, how had he let his feelings for her get so far out of hand?

Sherry started to say something, when a light knock sounded and both men glanced toward the door. The butler's gray head appeared in the opening.

"Your brother, Lord Rule, is here, Your Grace."

But Rule was already pushing his way into the study. Royal cast Sherry a glance, telling his friend without words that discussing his involvement with Lily was off-limits, even to his brother.

"So you are still in town," Royal said as Rule paused at the sideboard to pour himself a drink. "I thought you were heading back to Oxford."

"I've got a couple more days. I thought maybe there was a way I could help you with this Loomis fellow."

The night of the ball Royal had filled his brother in on the swindle Loomis had perpetrated on their father, Madam Tsaya's true identity, and how he hoped to get a measure of justice by regaining at least some portion of the money Loomis had stolen.

Sherry seemed to be contemplating Rule's suggestion, watching the tall, black-haired man over the rim of his brandy glass. "Perhaps Tsaya could predict you will get high marks in your final exams." He arched a light brown eyebrow. "You will, won't you?"

"I'll do well enough," Rule said. "I always have." The youngest Dewar brother had always been an extremely bright student. He had extended his studies, likely to avoid any sort of responsibility for as long as he could, but lately he was growing bored. He was ready to live his life. Royal just hoped the path he chose would be a wise one.

Royal straightened on the leather sofa. "Tsaya has been invited to a musicale given by Lady Severn at the end of the week. If you will be there, she could make the prediction then. The exams are coming up. You could return with the news of your good fortune shortly thereafter."

"I shall make it a point to attend Severn's ball." Rule grinned, carving a dimple into his cheek. "It shouldn't be an imposition. The countess is purported to be beautiful and her husband as old as Moses. They say she is quite inventive in bed and I should like nothing better than to find out."

Royal shook his head, but a smile lurked on his lips. "You are incorrigible, brother mine."

"And at my age, you weren't the least bit interested in women?"

He had been, of course. He'd had more than his share of ladies over the years. "Point taken." On Barbados he had kept a beautiful half-caste mistress. If he hadn't been short of funds, he likely would have set up a woman in London to see to his needs.

Lately, much to his surprise and chagrin, he seemed to have lost interest in the female gender.

Except, of course, for Lily.

The thought did not sit well.

"All right, then," Sherry said. "Royal, you will see Lily at your meeting Wednesday next, correct?"

A tightness settled between his shoulder blades. She would likely be there. He wished he wasn't looking forward to the meeting so much. "If she's not, Jack Moran will get word to her."

Sherry cast a pointed glance at Rule. "And we can count on you to attend the Severn affair?"

"Have no fear. Since my brother is determined the mysterious Tsaya is forbidden, I shall fix my attentions on the delectable countess."

Royal couldn't help a smile. Knowing his brother as he did, Lady Severn would no doubt wind up in his bed.

His thoughts returned to the upcoming event. Annabelle had managed to get Loomis on Severn's guest list. According to Charles Sinclair, it was just about time for Tsaya to start reeling the bastard in.

It was raining. Preston Loomis always hated going out in the rain. As he hurried toward his carriage, he glanced up from beneath the umbrella his butler held over his head into the sullen gray sky. Heavy drops of water managed to soak his expensive black evening coat. If there was a moon, he couldn't see it.

Grumbling, he climbed the iron stairs and settled himself inside the coach with a sigh of relief. Aside from the dismal weather, his life had taken an interesting turn of late. He had met a beautiful woman, in itself not particularly surprising. Since he had become a wealthy man, beautiful women often sought him out.

But this one was different. This one intrigued him as none had in a very long time. He wondered if she was merely a woman playing a role, doing her best to make a living as his mother had done, or if she was actually related to the one truly spiritual person he had ever known.

Tsaya claimed to be the grand-niece of Madam Medela, a Gypsy seer with the power to predict the future. Medela wasn't a con. In all the years he had known her, the old woman's advice had never failed him or his mother. Since her death, making his way in life had been far more difficult. Although he was a rich man now, he felt adrift, alone in a harsh world in which he had never truly belonged.

Was it possible the ancient Medela's grand-niece had inherited her same awesome powers? He tried to think back...the old lady had never talked about her family, though once she had said that her gift was passed down to her through the female side of her clan.

Was there a chance Tsaya could guide him, give him that feeling of control he'd had when her aunt was alive?

He had to know the truth.

The carriage rolled beneath the portico of the mansion belonging to the Earl and Countess of Severn. He passed through the receiving line and began making conversation with some of the guests. All the while his glance searched for Tsaya.

It wasn't until the first half of the musical entertainment was over, Signor Franco Mencini, an opera singer currently in vogue, that he saw her walk through the door.

Preston set his glass of champagne on a passing waiter's tray and started in her direction.

Nineteen.

Lily smiled at the circle of young men surrounding her. Well, not truly her, but the mysterious Gypsy, Tsaya, a group that included Rule Dewar. As they had planned, Tsaya predicted he would pass his school examinations at the top of his class.

Rule had been far better behaved tonight, no longer the brash, overbold rake used to getting what he wanted from a woman, but a polite young man who treated her with respect. She wondered what Royal had said to keep his brother in line.

Royal. He was here tonight, though his unofficial fiancee wasn't. Jocelyn was meeting her lover at the Parkland Hotel, and Lily discovered she was jealous. Jo was bold enough to act on her convictions. Lily wished she were daring enough for an assignation with Royal.

Unfortunately, her sense of honor would not let her, though her heart and body wanted to make love with him above all things. Jocelyn was, after all, her cousin, and no matter the lack of feelings Jo had for Royal, the pair was soon to wed.

Lily turned away from where the duke stood in conversation with his friend, darkly handsome Jonathan Savage, determined to keep her mind on the job she was there to do. From the corner of her eye, she spotted her quarry and he was coming her way. As tall, imposing, silver-haired Preston Loomis walked toward her, Lily smiled and excused herself from the group of young men, giving him a chance to seek her out.

Loomis stopped directly in front of her. "Madam Tsaya. It is good to see you."

"You, as well, Mr. Loomis."

"I wanted to let you know that your prediction came true. I won quite handsomely at cards the night I played with Lord Nightingale. You seem to have an interesting talent."

"I am fortunate, I suppose. I am able to help certain people, and the hostesses at these affairs pay me well for entertaining their guests. Still, at times it seems more a burden than a gift."

"In what way, may I ask?"

She toyed with a fold in her gaudy silk skirts. "Though I predict only good fortune, I sometimes see things I would rather not."

"You have made a prediction for me. Do you see bad things in my future?"

She looked up at him, studied his face, noticed the way his mustache followed the line of his upper lip. "I see nothing tonight." She continued to watch him, closed her eyes a moment, opened them and gave him the news they had planned. "Soon you will meet someone...an older woman. I do not understand what it means, but your fortune will be enhanced by this woman."

He smiled. "Is that so? It will be interesting to see if you are correct."

"You said you knew my great-aunt."

"She and my mother were quite good friends. When my mother died, Madam Medela and I continued our friendship. I am surprised she never mentioned you."

"I was only a child when I knew her. Mostly I have lived with my mother on the Continent. I have only been back in London for the past few months."

"Your aunt was an amazing woman."

"I have only the shadow of her talent. Still, if I feel a connection to someone, as she did to you, my skills can be quite useful." There it was-she had dangled the carrot in front of his nose. It remained to be seen if he would take it.