mind. Eyes of shimmering emerald and firm, masculine lips tipped up in a suave, masculine smile that made the bottom drop out of her stomach just thinking about it.

"I hadn't noticed," she replied primly.

She didn't fool Georgiana. Nor did she stop her.

"Oh, Arabella. You should have seen it, really. There was something almost spectacular about the

way the two of you looked together*him so dark and dashing, the perfect foil for you and your vibrance. And the way he towers over you. Why, you barely reach his chin -"

Not so. Her eyes, Arabella was quite certain, were on the exact same level as his lips.

"I confess," Georgiana went on, "it was really quite romantic."

Arabella's cup hit her saucer so hard the liquid sloshed over the edge. She stood, intending to fetch a cloth to mop up the mess. But when she turned to dart for the door, her knee connected with the delicate table where the tea service sat.

The table tipped. China went flying in all directions. A dark stain began to spread on Aunt

Grace's prized Aubusson carpet.

"Oh, bother," she muttered. Georgiana chuckled, already halfway out the door to fetch a maid. She returned with a cold cloth to press on Arabella's bruised knee, and resumed her seat.

"Thank you." Arabella slanted her a fond smile. "You are a dear." She paused, then said softly, "It's amazing that we ever became friends. We are such opposites, aren't we? You're graceful and tiny as a raindrop, while I'm grace less and thunder about like a great lout."

"Stop it, Arabella. You sell yourself short. Which reminds me: Are you going to the Bennington gala tonight?"

Arabella nodded.

"Hmmm," said Georgiana. An innocent pause, then, "Do you think he'll be there?"

There was no doubt who she meant. Arabella groaned. "Now, there's a dreadful thought."

Georgiana laughed, while Arabella wished she could.

Oh, but Georgiana could be such a tease. It was a well-known fact that when it came to women, Justin

Sterling chose only the pink of the ton. Really, to even intimate that she and Justin looked spectacular*why, it bordered on the ridiculous.

Yet she couldn't deny, in some faraway place hidden deep inside her, a part of her was rather flattered.

There was, thank heaven, no sign of him. All in all, the evening pa.s.sed rather pleasantly. At last, breathless from excitement, she started toward the side of the room where refreshments were being served.

"Arabella!"

Near the threshold, she turned. Walter Churchill was coming toward her.

"Walter, h.e.l.lo! I didn't know you were here." She almost hated herself for the way

her heart sank. Truth be told, she'd been almost relieved that there had been no sign of

him*or Justin Sterling, for that matter.

She liked Walter. She truly did. As for Justin, she told herself stoutly, he wasn't worth even a second thought.

"I've only just arrived," Walter said. "Arabella, please, I crave a word with you." He indicated a small room just off the ballroom. Arabella hesitated, then reluctantly followed him.

There was a small sofa just inside the doorway. It was there he led her, gesturing for her to sit. There was an expression of utmost earnestness in his brown eyes as he sat beside her, near but not touching her.

"Arabella, please, tell me you're not in love with him!"

Arabella blinked. His outburst wasn't what she'd expected.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I saw you together last night. I saw you with him!"

Arabella inhaled. "You mean Justin Sterling?"

"Yes. You know what he is, don't you? A rake-h.e.l.l. A black-hearted scoundrel. Why, he's kept half a dozen mistresses at once. Arabella -" Walter gazed at her pleadingly.

"He'll break your heart, if you let him."

Arabella couldn't help it. She laughed. Dear G.o.d - Georgiana and now Walter, too!

"Set your mind at ease, Walter. Believe me, I am impervious. I should never be taken in by the likes of such a man."

"I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear it." Lightly he touched her hand.

"Arabella, I adore you. I worship you -"

"Walter, please." She knew what was coming. She just knew it*

"Marry me, Arabella. Marry me. For I swear, you'll break my heart if you don't."

Arabella sighed. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. "Walter. Walter, please, say no more!"

His expression rent her in two. Oh, G.o.d, she thought half-hysterically, but she should have had the speech down pat by now.

She didn't. She was babbling, doing her best to ease his pain. "Walter, try to understand. I am very fond of you. Truly I am." She was fond of him, and they got along favorably, if not famously*but she knew she could never be amorously inclined toward him. And that was the crux of it. If and when she ever married, she wanted pa.s.sion and excitement and*and she would never find those things with Walter. Yet how could she say that without hurting his feelings?

"You are a kind, sweet man," she continued, "and I am honored that you would think of me in such a way. Indeed, I foresee that someday you'll make some woman a fine husband." She paused, hoping it would be enough, praying it would!

Walter's mouth opened, then closed. "Arabella," he said quaveringly, "what are you trying to say? I have feelings for you. And I thought you had feelings for me - "

"But not those kinds of feelings. Walter, listen to me. I cannot be your wife."

G.o.d help her, he appeared ready to weep. Arabella's heart went out to him. She was the sort who wore her emotions for all to see, and it cut her to the quick to think that she was hurting him so.

"Walter, please understand how difficult this is for me. But I made a vow to myself a long time ago, a vow that when I marry it will only be for love."

He gulped. "You don't love me?"

"I'm afraid not," she said gently. "In time, I think you'll realize you don't love me, either."

The silence was horrid. He stared at her, his expression utterly hangdog.

"Walter, I'm so sorry," she said lamely, "but it's for the best. Truly it is." Slipping a hand beneath his elbow, she rose and started toward the door, which had been left ajar.

At the threshold, he stopped and looked at her.

Arabella winced. "I can summon your carriage if you like."

He shook his head. "There's no need." At last he turned and walked back into the ballroom, his shoulders slumped as if they held the weight of the world.

Rather anxiously, Arabella watched as he crossed the room and spoke to the footman near the stairs. Good. He wouldn't make a scene. She hadn't thought he would, but still, she was relieved. She rather doubted Walter would let it be known he'd asked for her hand, only to be rejected, which suited her perfectly. Why, if word of still another proposal got out, she was very much afraid the ton would never stop talking about her.

Smoothing the yellow muslin of her gown, she gathered herself in hand and prepared to rejoin the gala.

It was then she heard it*almost directly behind her.

Someone was clapping.

She froze. The skin on the back of her neck p.r.i.c.kled in warning. She knew, even before she turned, who

stood behind her.

"Yet another discarded suitor," Justin observed. "I should imagine they'll soon be able to form their own club."

Arabella made no reply. He'd startled her, he realized.

"It was good of you to let him down gently," he mused. "I wonder, were the others so fortunate?"

Her silence didn't last for long - not that he expected it would. "You were lurking behind the door, weren't you?" she accused. "Spying on me."

"I was not. I was with Lord Bennington in his study. He offered me a brandy he'd just acquired, which I confess quite hit the spot. But a word of advice, Arabella. If you wish to carry on a conversation in private, it's usually best to close the door."

"I've not granted you leave to use my given name." The primness of her tone was at complete odds with the fiery blue sizzle of her eyes. "You should have let your presence be known."

"Pray tell, what would have been a good time? In between *I adore you' and *I worship you'?"

If anything, the heat in her eyes flared hotter. Indeed, Justin decided, she was being remarkably restrained. Where was the explosion he'd expected?

He continued. "Obviously, though, he is not aware of our previous a.s.sociation or he wouldn't have thought you were in love with me."

Levelly she regarded him. "You wretch," she said evenly.

"Oh, but I do believe it's I who should be offended. You did not speak highly of me. However, I am compelled to inform you - that bit about half a dozen mistresses is greatly exaggerated." He shrugged. "Not that I wouldn't have liked to, I admit. But funds precluded it, I fear."

Her chin came up. "You have no decency whatsoever, do you? What kind of man would say such a thing to a lady?"

Justin knew full well she had a temper to match the fire of her hair. It occurred to him he was baiting her - and enjoying it immensely.

"Come, now, Arabella. You gave an admirable performance of a concerned, compa.s.sionate woman. I must commend you. Why, you should have been on the stage."

His efforts began to see fruition. She was growing agitated.

"Do you think I enjoyed that?" she flared.

"Didn't you?"