I risked a smile, in case he was joking. But he did not smile back.

"I don't know where it is," I finally said.

He waved one arm through the air. "Neither do I. Looking over the river, I think: it might smell a bit in summer, but the view is better." He reached out and found a bellpull. "What was your name, again?"

If he hadn't seemed simply not to care, I might have lost my temper. Still: "Campion," I said icily. "Like yours. It's Katherine Samantha Campion Talbert, in full."

He was seeing me again. The duke leaned toward me. His eyes were green, fringed with dark lashes.

For the first time, his face was edged with humor. "I have been the Duke Tremontaine for something like fifteen years now," my uncle said. I didn't see what he found funny about that. "Do you know what my real name is?"

It seemed important to know it. As if, by knowing it, I might prove to him that I was real. Put all his names together, and I might come to some understanding that would tell me what he wanted.

I stared back at him. As if we were mirrors of each other, I felt curiosity, and fear, and excitement-and did not know whether those feelings were his, or my own.

"I know two of them," I said.Campion, and the one my mother had called him. "Three, if you count Tremontaine. I can ask my mother for the rest."

"No, you can't. Not for six months, anyway." The duke swung himself round in the chair, hooking his long legs over one arm in the graceless sprawl of a child settling down with a book. "Don't you read your contracts before you sign them?"

"I couldn't sign. I'm not of age."

"Ah, of course. Your family took care of all that for you." He swung back around to face me, with anexpression on his face that made me feel cold all over. "Do you understand the terms?" he demanded.

"Did she even tell you? Or did they just send you here like some sacrificial goat to buy me off?"

I met his fierce gaze, although I hated doing it. "I know about the swords," I told him, "and the six months. I have to do what you say, and wear the clothes you give me. Of course they told me. I'm not a goat."

"Good." He swung away, satisfied.

A very handsome man with short blond curls and a snub nose came into the room. He walked right past me without a glance, and leaned over my uncle's chair. He leaned down farther and farther, and my uncle reached up one arm and put it behind the man's head, and pulled him down farther still.

There was no mistaking the meaning of that kiss. This was one, just one of the many reasons my uncle the Mad Duke was not considered fit to know. I could not stop looking.

And I saw the beautiful man as he came up for air cast me a triumphant glance.

He murmured to the duke so I could hear, "Having truck with serving girls, this time?" I tugged at my dress to smooth it. It was not cheap cloth by any means, even if it was plain.

The duke hauled himself up in the chair to a level nearer dignity. "I am dismayed, Alcuin," he said in that unpleasantly smooth voice, "that you do not immediately note the resemblance. This is my niece, my only sister's youngest and dearest child. She will be staying here awhile, so you had better keep a civil tongue around her, or you will not be."

"Ibeg your pardon," said the beautiful Alcuin. "I see it now, of course-a certain, ah, cruelty about the mouth...."

It took all my self-control to keep from wiping my mouth. The duke said, "Alcuin, you're not very bright.

You're just nice to look at. I suggest you play your strongest suit."

The beautiful man dropped his eyes like a maiden. "Certainly, sir, if it pleases you. Will you be my master at cards, as in other things?"

"Always," said the duke dryly; "and I'm doing you a favor." Then they started kissing again.

I went and yanked the bellpull myself. Whatever it produced next, it could not be worse than Alcuin.

A boy slipped into the room like a shadow. He nodded at me, but addressed the busy duke: "My lord.

Fleming asked me to remind you that your guests will begin arriving in two hours' time, and do you really want to wear the blue velvet tonight when it's this warm?"

My uncle disentangled himself from Alcuin. "Guests? What guests?"

"I knew Your Grace would say that," the boy answered with perfect equanimity. I wanted to laugh, and I thought he did, too. "You invited the poet Almaviva to read his new work here tonight. And you've invited a great many people who don't like poetry, and a sprinkle of ones who do. It's not really a fair fight."

"Oh." My uncle turned to me. "Do you like poetry, Lady Katherine?" "Some," I managed to answer.

"Then you must swell the ranks of the believers. Can you drink?"

"What?"

"Can you drink a great deal of wine without behaving like an idiot?"

"Certainly," I lied.

"Good. Then go have a bath and all that. Don't rush: it'll be hours before they all get here so we can eat.

Marcus, tell me, did Betty ever show up?" he asked the boy.

"Oh, yes: she's in the kitchen, practicing her curtsey."

"Well, she can practice it up here. I expect," my uncle said to me, "your room will be wherever they've put your bags. Someone will know."

BETTY PRACTICING HER CURTSEY WAS A TERRIBLEsight to see. She had each separate move in the right sequence, but getting them to flow together seemed beyond her skill. She tugged her skirts out to each side of her. She crooked her knees. She came perilously near the ground. Then she did it again. And again; but it was never very convincing. Short and fat with middle age and scarlet with embarrassment, she resembled a quaking beet-pudding about to collapse in on itself.

"My lady," she stammered, "forgive me-there's a right way to do these things, I know-and I'll begin as I mean to go on, just the way you like it..."

"Thank you," I said, in an agony of impatience; "yes, thank you."

But she kept right on going: "You'll get satisfaction from me this time, my lady, and no messing about with the master, not this time, not this one, bless his boots-"

Finally I gave up and just said it: "Please, could you show me my room?"

"Of course," she panted, nearly worn out with curtseys; "that's what I'm here for, isn't it?" I handed her my cloak, in hopes it would steady her. "Of course," she said. "Of course, my lady."

She didn't look as if she could balance much more than the traveling cloak. I picked up my other small things myself. "My room," I repeated. "Please."

"Yes, well, it's a great big house, this one, isn't it? So many doors you don't know where you are-not like the Riverside house, well, that one's big too, but different; here everything looks the same..."

My heart misgave me as I followed her up the sweeping staircase (it was, in fact, the Perfect Staircase of my dreams, but I was too busy handling Betty to notice. Poor woman, I thought; trying to make a good impression and not quite equipped for it! I had considerable sympathy for her, after what I'd just been through). "Now I know it's this way," she repeated as we rounded the same corridor a third time. But at last the door stood open to the right place.

There were my trunks in the corner, looking especially shabby in the glory that was my room at Tremontaine House. A huge bed with gauzy curtains, just right for the time of year; a painted wardrobe set off perfectly against the pale butter-yellow of the walls; prettily framed pictures and vases of flowers...and the whole reflected in the curly gilded mirror that hung over the marble fireplace.

Betty looked at the room, looked at me, attempted another curtsey and fell flat on her bum. When I leaned over to help her up, I found that my sympathy had been misplaced. Her breath smelt like a drover's on payday.

It was too much. My rich uncle had hired me a drunkard, a slovenly woman from who knows where, to serve as my first very-own lady's maid!

I looked at her red, babbling face, at my bags, at all of it reflected in the mirror (including my own shocked face and travel-frizzled hair) and burst into miserable tears.

"There now, my lady." And the creature had her arms around me. "There now." I let her hold me while I sobbed my heart out on the drunkard's warm breast.

MY ROOM DID INDEED LOOK OUT ONTO THE RIVER,and into the hills beyond, where the sun was finally setting. That morning it had found me waking in a strange inn on the road, surrounded by strangers. What a long day it had been! I leaned as far as I could over the balcony-my balcony-drinking in the sight. For natural beauty, the view from my room was not a patch on the rolling hills of home, the long vistas and sudden curves. No one could get lost inthese hills, or tired walking along that river. But still they seemed far more exciting. And below me stretched a shadowy garden, suggestive of hedges and statues and paths one could, perhaps, get lost in. I watched as it all went blue and cold, and stars began to come out in the distance.

My huge white bed seemed to glow with its own light. I lay on its downy luxury, just for a moment-and woke to pitch darkness, and a thud against my bedroom door, and footsteps in the hall, and laughter.

Wide awake, I pulled an overdress on over my wrinkled chemise, and peeked out into the hall. A candle on a stand flared in the draft from my door. A man and a woman, whispering and laughing, were running down the hall toward its light, their inky shadows smeared out along the carpet behind them. I turned the other way, toward the stairs, where most of the noise was coming from. There were laughter and shouts, and the strains of string music flowed remarkably placid under the revelers. The party was in full cry.

I had no idea where Betty was, or how to get her to help me dress. I struck light to a candle, and picked out a green overdress that had covered deficiencies in the past; unplaited and combed out my hair, and knotted it up with a couple of pins, and clasped my coral necklace around my neck. My dove-grey slippers were nowhere in evidence, so I had to wear the apple-green, even though they did not match the dress. But I have noticed that, in large crowds, no one looks at anyone else's feet. I'd be all right if I could just get down the staircase unseen.

I paused at the top of the stairs to examine the scene below. People were spread out across the great hall; they looked like badly arranged pieces on its gameboard squares of black and white marble. They seemed to be just the spillover from the crowded receiving rooms beyond the double-doors. I did my best to drift inobtrusively down the stairs. I was terribly hungry; there might be food beyond the doors. The people all looked very grand-gaudy,my mother would have said-in rich fabrics and jewels and lace and ruffles. Bobbing amongst them was a dyed ostrich feather, elegantly curled over a sleek, dark head, almost like a little hat. The head turned to me, and suddenly I was looking right into the eyes of a girl my own age. She darted forward, and seized my hands in hers.

"Isn't thisfun ?" she said. Her cheeks were pink, her blue eyes sparkled, and she wore a very good pair of pearl earrings.

"I've only just arrived. I came today, from the country."

"And already you're invited to all the wickedest parties! But I can tell that you are very, very good; I can always tell about people-aren't you just a little bit terrified, beinghere ?" She gave a theatrical shudder.

"Of course, the old duchess had exquisite taste; that's really why I wanted to come, to see the house, you know. Although the duke's parties are events all their own-the ones at Tremontaine House-not the Other Place-we wouldn't gothere, of course." My new friend flashed a smile at the whole room.

"Isn't itgrand ?"

I could not really see much for all the people. I noticed a cunning little pair of diamond buckles flashing by on someone's feet-or maybe they were paste, I couldn't tell. I wished I had a pair.

"Oh, yes!" I breathed.

She put her arm around my waist. "I just know we are going to be the best of friends. Where is your escort? I came with my brother Robert-the truth is," she pulled me a little closer in; "I made him bring me. He didn't want to. He said it wasn't any place for me. But I said if he did not I would tell our parents the true reason he needed the advance on his allowance.He told them he'd given the money to a poor friend who needed it-they encourage us to be generous-but I knew it was really because he'd spent it all on a duel over Lavinia Perry, which is silly, because she's almost a cousin. I wouldn't fall in love with a cousin, would you?"

"Oh, no!"

I had been in the city only a few hours, and already I had a friend-someone whose brother hired swordsmen, and who admired me for getting into dangerous parties. I felt very happy as she circled my waist with her arm. My new friend was shorter than I; the feather tickled my cheek.

"So...you're just up from the country. This must all seem very strange to you-although one wouldn't know it, you have such natural grace. And of course you will be at all the dances. I'm sure to see you there-we will have such fun, searching out beaux together!" She was leading me out of the press, to a corner where we could be fully absorbed in each other.

"Do you know, I've already received flowers from-an admirer!"

I clutched her arm. "Oh,who ? Is he here?"

"No, not here; this isn't the sort of place he would be seen at. I shall get a dreadful scolding from him if he hears about it." She tossed her head, looking pleased. "But next week...Will you be at the Godwins'

ball?" "I-don't know. I don't believe we've been invited yet."

My elegant friend said, "But I feel sure that Lydia Godwin would dote on you, if only she knew you as I do! I shall speak to her. She is such a dear friend of mine. Perhaps you could come in our party, with your brother. Or was it your cousin?"

"Cousin?"

"With your escort-the one who brought you here."

"Oh. It's my-uncle."

"Oh." She frowned briefly but prettily. "Not one of those boring old married men who only comes to parties to play cards?"

"No, I-don't think he's married. I mean, he isn't. He's very elegant."

"Perhaps you'll introduce us." She pulled away for a moment, to fish in her beaded reticule for a little engraved card. "You must call on me tomorrow." She laughed happily, indicating the throng of revelers: "Not too early, of course!" I had no idea what time it really was. Close to midnight, surely. No one at this party would be up early tomorrow.

I pocketed the card. "I will come, if it's not being a bother," I said shyly, picturing a disaster, with no one home. But she squeezed my hand in hers. "Yes, yes, you must! Then you can meet my brother Robert in decent circumstances-maybe even turn his head away from the Perry chit!"

Was that all it took to get beaux-just meeting friends' brothers? This was going to be easier than I'd thought! I said, "I have no card, not yet-we don't need them at home, everyone knows everyone else.

But let me introduce myself-"

"No, let me. It's much more decent," a voice announced from above. "This is my niece, the Lady Katherine Samantha Campion Talbert." My friend was staring, rather pale, over my head, at the tall duke dressed in black. He turned all the pink and silver and powder blue and turquoise in the room to sugar candy. Even my friend's delicious feather looked addled. He said, "And you're a Fitz-Levi. I can tell by the nose."

She sank down in a very lovely curtsey, with her head bowed to hide her flaming cheeks. "My Lord Duke."

My uncle looked down at the feather. "Fitz-Levi...hmmm...I don't remember inviting you. Marcus will know-" His eyes scanned the room, presumably for the boy Marcus. From what I had seen this afternoon, the duke didn't remember having invited anyone. But I could hardly tell her so at this moment.

She flashed me a haunted look, pressed my hand once more and fled. By the time my uncle looked down again, she was gone.

He looked curiously at me, as though I had performed a conjuring trick.

"What happened?"

"You frightened her," I told him. He shrugged. "Well. At least you're still here. Let's get something to eat. Are you hungry?"

I was ravenous. "Yes, please. But-why did you say that, about her nose?"

"What about her nose?"

"You said she was ugly."

"Did I?" He considered for a moment. "I suppose I did. I'd better make her an apology, then. I'll have Marcus send her some flowers."

"Don't!" I exclaimed quickly. "You'll get her in trouble."

He looked at me again with great curiosity. "What do you care?"

All the while he had been maneuvering us out of the hall and off to a side room where tables were spread with food and drink.

"By the way," he said absently, "those shoes don't match that gown."

He handed me a plate piled with strawberries, bonbons, smoked fish and asparagus.

"Ah!" he said. "Finally. Someone to talk to."