"My day?" Charlie reached behind her to grasp the corner of a pillow.

"Well, my day was just great. While you were gallivanting about having a marvelous time, I was being poked and prodded by a Madame Decalle. Does that not sound amusing?"

she asked sweetly, then clobbered the grinning girl over the head with the pillow and slid off the bed with disgust.

Laughing, Beth pushed the pillow aside and rolled onto her stomach to prop her chin on the heels of her hands. "It serves you right for all those years of allowing me to serve as dressmaker's doll," she announced unsympathetically.

Then her eyes widened as she finally actually looked at her sister. Sitting up abruptly, she slid her feet off the bed and stood to rush forward. "You are wearing a different gown! Do not tell me this Decalle woman finished a dress already?"

"No, of course not," Charlie murmured as her sister moved around her in a circle. "I promised her extra money if she worked quickly, but even so she could only promise a gown a day, starting tomorrow if she hired another couple of workers."

"Then where"

"She was preparing this for someone who had similar measurements to us. When she realized that 'Elizabeth' only had one dress, she sent for it immediately."

"Is that not marvelous?" Beth tugged here and there at the material. "This person does have the same measurements. It fits you perfectly."

"Aye, well, actually the lady was a bit taller and larger in the waist, but Madame had one of the girls take it in as we plodded through her book of designs."

"Book of designs?" Beth frowned at that. "What did you choose?"

Charlie's eyebrows rose. "Why the sudden interest? You were not the least concerned when you left this morning."

"Well, in my excitement I fear I forgot you have no experience at such tasks."

Charlie smiled slowly at the other girl's obvious trepidation. "Aye, well, never fear, dear sister. Beth shall love her gowns; after all, she chose them.

Though I must confess, Madame Decalle was a bit dismayed at one or two of the choices."

On that note, she turned on her heel and quickly left the room, hurrying down the hall toward the stairs. She actually made it halfway there before Beth regained herself enough to come after her.

"What do you mean, dismayed? What did you choose?" she asked anxiously, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"You shall see," Charlie murmured, slipping free and continuing forward.

"ButOh, wait! I forgot to tell you. We have been invited to the theater tonight."

"We have?" Charlie paused to face her sister, her gown swirling about her legs as she did. "By whom?"

"Tommy." When Charlie stared blankly, Beth colored and clarified, "Tomas Mowbray. He invited us to share his box with him and his sister Clarissa."

"Hmm." Charlie glanced at her in the newly tailored men's clothes. The outfit was rather sharp. Radcliffe's doing, no doubt. The man had impeccable taste.

"Well?"

Charlie's eyebrows flew up. "Well, what?"

"Well, do you not think we should go? I told him I was not sure at the time because we only had the one gown and he had already seen me in it, but now that Madame Decalle has provided a second gown well, it does seem the thing to do.

To meet other prospective husbands," she pointed out hopefully.

"Aye, of course we must go. The idea is to get married, after all, and we cannot manage that should we not go out and about. Besides, I have been bored to tears all day. It will be nice to get out for a bit."

"Good." Beth's relief was obvious as she suddenly snatched Charlie's arm up and turned her back toward the bedroom, dragging her along. "Come along then."

"Why?"

"We must change," Beth explained, dragging her into the bedroom.

"Into what? I told you this was the only gown Madame Ducalle had available. Do you not think this will suit?"

"Oh, it will suit. I meant switch clothes back to my being Beth and your being"

"Now just a minute, Beth. I am not going to the theater as Charles. I thought you wished to be the brother for the day."

"Well, I did, aye, I did."

"I thought you had fun at the club and the"

"I did, but I" She looked uncomfortable, and Charlie's gaze narrowed "Why do you not tell me more about Tomas Mowbray?" Her sister's flush was answer enough and Charlie sighed. "I see," she murmured It seemed her sister had taken a liking to the man and wished to be Elizabeth around him.

"I am sorry," Beth began unhappily. "If you wish to continue as Beth for the evening, then surely you should. The full day was the agreement, after all."

"Do not be silly," Charlie eluded, reaching up to begin undoing the dress she wore. " 'Tis just the theater."

"Thank you, Charlie," Beth murmured gratefully.

" 'Tis all right," she responded, then sighed slightly as she realized she would now suffer several hours of Clarissa's tender mercies.

"Charles!"

Charlie sighed as she recognized the voice moments before she spotted Clarissa Mowbray making her way toward where she, Beth, and Radcliffe stood.

Tomas Mowbray was hard on the girl's heels, doing his damnedest to keep up with her as she charged through the mob.

"Tom said you were coming tonight. I was so happy at the news," Clarissa gasped as she latched her hands onto Charlie's arm.

"Aye, well, I'm sure," Charlie murmured uncomfortably, doing her best to escape the girl's clutches, but finding the task extraordinarily difficult.

"Mowbray," Radcliffe greeted Clarissa's brother with amusement as the breathless man reached them.

"Lord Radcliffe." Tomas smiled wryly at the man, then grabbed his sister's arm to tug her away from Charlie. Between that and Charlie's own efforts, they managed to remove her grasp. "For God's sake, Clarissa, leave the fellow alone,"

he muttered irritably, then tossed an apologetic smile Charlie's way.

"Sorry, friend. She's always been rather like a bull terrier. I expect it's from competing for attention with Mother's dogs." Ignoring Clarissa's irate gasp at that, Tomas turned his gaze to Beth, his smile widening as it fell on her in the lavender gown. "Lady Beth. You look a sight."

"Thank you, my lord," Beth murmured shyly. "And thank you for inviting us to join you tonight."

"My pleasure." He grinned widely, seemingly oblivious to the frantic tugging Clarissa was trying in an attempt to free herself.

Charlie glanced curiously at Radcliffe, wondering how he was responding to the other couple's behavior after having shared that kiss with who he thought was Beth in the library. But he appeared not even to notice; his gaze instead was watching Charlie herself with amusement as she sidled cautiously away from the amorous Clarissa.

"Shall we go in?"

Charlie glanced around to see her sister smile sweetly at Tomas and place her hand on the free arm he now raised toward her. Mowbray then reached up to clasp that small hand, dropping the hold he had on his sister as he walked Beth to the doors.

Stifling a sigh of disappointment, Charlie managed not to wince as Clarissa's claws closed around her arm again, drawing her forward. "Come, you will enjoy the show."

"Somehow I doubt that very much," Charlie muttered, then glared at a laughing Radcliffe. "Come along, Radcliffe. You would not wish to miss the show."

"No indeed, I wouldn't," he agreed with amusement, following slowly behind and peering from Beth to Charles as he went. He had noticed the attraction between Beth and Tomas and had awaited a sense of disappointment or jealousy, but there was none forthcoming. In fact, despite that passionate embrace in the library, he found his attention once again being dragged back to the brother. For instance, just now he had noticed the sweet upside-down heart that his behind made in the breeches he wore.

Charles did not have a man's behind, he realized, glancing around at the other male patrons with a frown. Not one of the other men present had as nice a behind. None of them made him want to keep looking, or drew his eye the way Charlie's pert little bottom did. He did not know whether to be relieved by that or further distressed. What the devil was the matter with him? He had never even looked at another man's body before, not really. Certainly not like this. Yet now, this boy this stripling, drew his attention and desire like no woman ever had.

There, he had said it. He desired the boy. Good God, he was losing his mind, he realized with dismay. He had no desire to be with a man. He did, however, fervently wish that Charles were a woman. His gaze slid to Beth. She was, for all intents and purposes, a female version of Charles, and he had felt incredible passion with her in the library. But he did not now. It was all very confusing.

Radcliffe pushed such thoughts away as he overheard Tom inviting them on a picnic the next day. "A small affair," he was saying. "But we would love to have you there."

"Is it not lovely?" Beth breathed happily.

"Charming," Charlie muttered, disgruntled, not even bothering to glance about the grassy glen they had disembarked upon. The theater the night before had been a hellish experience thanks to one Clarissa Mowbray and her calf-like infatuation. Today was going no better, since she had once again found herself finagled into being Charles.

"Oh, Charlie, do not be such a grump. It is a lovely day for a picnic and"

"Aye, well, if Clarissa paws me one more time I swear I shall" Her words came to an abrupt halt as Beth gave a tinkling laugh.

Catching sight of Charlie's narrowed eyes, Beth stifled her laughter and tried for an apologetic look that fell decidedly short of sincerity. Sighing, she shook her head in wry amusement, then murmured, "She does seem quite taken with you."

"Taken with me?" Charlie harrumphed in disgust. "She is like a particularly virulent branch of ivy. She clings to me at every opportunity. Truly the chit isOh, drat," she muttered as she spied the girl in question making her way determinedly toward them. Charlie had spent the better part of the hour-long journey doing her best to avoid Clarissa Mowbray. An impossible feat when trapped on a barge with a hundred other people. Still, Charlie had given it a go, repeatedly disengaging the hands that clawed at her sleeve and fleeing with little concern for politeness.

Clarissa had neither seemed to notice nor care that Charlie was showing a distinct lack of interest in her charms. Truly, the girl seemed to have no self-esteem at all. She was certainly lacking in dignity. She had literally chased Charlie about the ship like a puppy chasing its master. It was all rather embarrassing as far as Charlie was concerned. And terribly wearing as well. If Clarissa ever did find a husband, Charlie suspected the man would be brought down by sheer lack of energy. The girl would wear him down until it seemed easier to give in than fight any longer. Charlie decided she had best do something about the determined lady or she was going to spend a decidedly uncomfortable afternoon.

'There you are!" Clarissa exclaimed as if they had not been playing hide-and-seek for the last hour. Latching firmly onto Charlie's arm, she positively beamed with triumph. "Goodness, you are as slippery as a fish.

I.

wanted to show you a spot a little further along the river, but you slipped away."

Charlie remained silent as she was dragged off, sparing merely a glare for her laughing sister, then concentrated on negotiating her way through the crowds of people as Clarissa led her away from the still disembarking guests.

The Mowbrays' idea of a small picnic was piling sixty people on a barge along with nearly as many servants, then transporting them downstream to a suitably grassy spot for a light luncheon at temporary tables and chairs. Had Charlie realized it was to be such a hullabaloo, she would have politely declined and spent the day at home. Well, perhaps not; as boring as she found this outing, pacing about Radcliffe's townhouse seemed worse. At least this way she could see how Radcliffe and Beth interacted with each other. Not that today's adventure was disclosing anything of interest. Radcliffe had been greeted and drawn into a crowd of rather staunch looking older men the moment they had arrived, while Beth and Charlie had been swallowed up by the younger set.

Her gaze slid to Radcliffe now. He was still standing with the older men.

Not one of them was less than twenty years older than him, and she frowned as she recalled Beth telling her that he had done the same thing the day before at the club, leaving her in the company of the young bucks and wandering off to discuss business matters with his elders. She was coming to the conclusion that he had quite forgotten how young he was.

How young was he? she wondered suddenly and frowned as she peered at him. He did not yet look thirty. She would put him at twenty-eight or so. That made him eight years older than herself and Beth. Yet he acted at least twice that.

Sad, really. A shame.

A gasp drew her attention back to Clarissa as the girl stumbled over an uneven patch of land. Charlie steadied her with a hand at her elbow that the girl quickly clutched and squeezed warmly.

"Thank you, my lord." Clarissa half-whispered the words of gratitude, her gaze adoring until Charlie shook her hand free and indicated that she should lead the way.

It didn't take long for her to realize that Clarissa didn't have a clue where she was going. There was no path to follow and they were stumbling through the woods like two lost bulls. It was obvious there was no "spot" Clarissa wanted to show her, or actually Charles. She had just wanted to get him alone and it did not take much thought to figure out why. Charlie had to give the girl credit, she was a bold bit of fluff. Still, her boldness was likely to get them in trouble.

"Clarissa," she said at last, catching the girl's arm and drawing her to a halt.

"We should head back."

"Oh no, the spot is just ahead," Clarissa murmured almost urgently, and Charlie shook her head with irritation. The girl was a worse liar than Beth.

"Enough," she snapped, turning back the way they had come. "It is obvious you do not know where you are going, and I have no wish to get lost in the woods today."

"Oh, but" Clarissa caught her arm desperately, drawing her to a halt, pleading naked on her face until she glimpsed the irritation in Charlie's expression.

Once she did, she dropped her hold at once and peered down at the ground unhappiness falling about her like a cloak. "I am sorry, Charles. 'Tis obvious you had no desire to walk with me."

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. Clarissa looked so pitiful. It was obvious she was desperate to be liked. Unfortunately, she seemed to have no idea how to go about it. Feeling most of her irritation slip away, Charlie sighed. "It is not that I would not enjoy a walk with you,Clarissa. But it is not proper for a young girl to be alone with a er young man," she explained uncomfortably, wondering how she got herself into these situations. "The man might take advantage. That is why parents insist on chaperones. As your mother should have," she added dryly.

"My mother couldn't be bothered," Clarissa muttered, then added earnestly, "And I was rather hoping you might take advantage. I would not mind. Really."

"What?" Charlie gasped, scandalized, and Clarissa blushed but nodded anyway.

"Truly. If you wish to kiss me I would not mind. I was rather hoping you might like to." On that note, she closed her eyes and tipped her head up in anticipation.

Charlie stared at the girl in dismay for a moment, then shook her head and started walking back through the woods toward the other picnickers. She had taken a mere few steps when Clarissa opened her eyes to see her escaping. Like a bulldog with a bone, she was after her at once.

"Wait, you cannot go back. Are you not going to kiss me? I" Her words shuddered to a halt when Charlie whirled on her in a temper, her patience spent.

"Stop hounding me, you silly little girl. Whatever is the matter with you?

Have you no pride at all? Or has that gone the way of the wind along with your sense?

You shall be ruined ere you even have your coming out at this rate. Hoping I.

would take advantage of you, indeed! You are lucky I am not one of those fellows that are taking bets on seeing how many girls they can ruin this season, or you would be ruined already."

When Clarissa paled, tears springing to her eyes, Charlie suddenly felt an idiot. The silly chit was annoying, but she was also innocent and young and Well, hell, that was reason enough for her foolishness. Truly, Charlie supposed most girls in the first bloom of womanhood were equally silly, it was just that usually they had someone to look out for them. Clarissa seemed sadly lacking in that area. Which, Charlie supposed, explained her seeming desperation for someone to pay attention to her.

Shifting uncomfortably as one big fat tear after another rolled down the girl's pale face, Charlie sighed and reached out to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Do not cry, you are safe with me. I am not taking bets on ruining girls this season," she murmured a bit laconically, sighing when Clarissa suddenly threw herself against her chest, weeping copiously all over the new waistcoat the tailor had delivered only that morning.

"I am an idiot," Clarissa cried in self-loathing, and Charlie frowned.

"Nay. Nay, you are not an idiot, Clarissa. 'Tis just that you must be more careful; all men are not gentlemen. And you certainly must never suggest they take advantage of you." She shuddered inwardly at the thought of what would have happened if the girl had thrown herself at someone like the Jimmy and Freddy that Beth had been telling her about.