Dearest Lizzie, I would like to spare you the trouble of letting a house in London. It is hardly necessary when there are so many extra rooms at De Gray House. I hope you and your daughter will do me the very great favor of coming to stay with my family. It is my conviction that Dollie will greatly enjoy Li-dian's companionship, and hopefully the reverse will be true as well!

The household consists of Edgar and myself, Dollie, and Edgar's brother Carrett, who has stayed with us for the past two years, ever since his wife died. I believe it would benefit him, as well as the rest of us, to have two new faces to enliven our situation. I confess, I am also asking for my own selfish reasons. I would dearly love the comfort of a cherished friend who could reminisce with me about earlier, happier days, when your dear husband and my beloved son Edward were still alive. They are still young and vibrant in our memories, aren't they? Please say you'll come Lizzie...

Lidian stopped reading and set aside the letter. She spoke in a firm voice. "I can't, Mama. You must do what you think is best, but I won't go."

"Yes, you will," Elizabeth said, turning steely. "I won't have you buried out here when there is an opportunity to go to all the finest b.a.l.l.s and parties of the season, and meet every eligible man in London-"

"And what better way to become acquainted with Lord De Gray than to stay with his parents and sister?" Lidian asked sarcastically. "I have no interest in him, Mama!"

"Then choose someone else-take Chance Spencer if he ever returns. But in the meantime, you will accompany me to the De Grays' house and spend the rest of the season there."

"Who will take care of the estate affairs while we're gone?"

"You can do it from London. We'll find a way."

"Mama, this is impractical, inconvenient-"

"For once I want you to be young and irresponsible," Elizabeth said in determination. "You've been robbed of so many precious years! For a few months I want you to nave what you should have had, if only your father wasn't-"

"Please don't talk about Papa," Lidian said, her obstinacy fading. Dispiritedly she sat in the chair before the desk and surveyed the piles of work there. "Let's not argue about this, Mama. Won't you just accept that I don't want anyone if I can't nave Chance?"

"Accept that my only daughter will have no husband, no children, no home of her own, all because of a scoundrel who made false promises to her? Never!" She went to Lidian and stood over her, staring at her with love and purpose. "Come with me to the De Grays' estate. I'll never ask another thing of you, darling. Do it for my sake, to ease my worry over you. Please don't refuse me, Lidian."

De Gray House was located on Upper Grosvenor Street, bordering Hyde Park in a tnick grove of plane trees. The cla.s.sically designed house was fronted with towering Doric columns and rows of Palladian windows that made every room airy and bright. Inside, the main hall contained a sweeping double staircase that led to the second and third floors. White and ice-blue walls were adorned with burned-gold swags and moldings, and sumptuous paintings in ornate frames. Before Lidian could fully absorb the grandeur of the place, the Countess De Gray appeared to welcome them.

The countess embraced Elizabeth first while Lidian stood back shyly and watched them. Julia, as Elizabeth called her, was a slender and beautiful woman with the same silvery-blond hair as Dollie. "My goodness, Lizzie," she exclaimed, "you haven't changed a bit in the last ten years!"

"Oh, I've changed," Elizabeth replied wryly, surveying her own voluptuous figure. "But you, dear Julia...you're as willowy as ever. How can I ever forgive you?"

Julia laughed and turned to face Lidian. "Lizzie, what a beauty your daughter is! She favors you, but I can see a little of John in her as well." She walked forward and put her arms around Lidian, hugging her in a flurry of silk and delicate perfume. "I'm so pleased you've come to stay with us, my dear," she murmured. "Both of my children have taken such a liking to you."

Lidian flushed, not knowing how to reply.

"Lidian!" Suddenly Dollie appeared in a flurry of golden curls, her delicate face glowing. "You're finally here! Come, I'll tour you around the house while the maids unpack your things."

Just then someone else appeared, a tall man with dark hair, who seemed to be in his mid-forties. He came from the first floor hallway, pausing on his way to the grand staircase as he saw them. There were liberal touches of silver at his temples and a scowl on his lean face. He would have been a handsome man, if not for the bracket of lines around his mouth that betrayed a keen cynicism and disappointment with life. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?" he muttered upon seeing the new arrivals.

Flushing in embarra.s.sment, Julia hastened to smooth over the awkward moment. "Garrett," she said lightly, "these are the guests I mentioned to you before-my dear friend Lady Acland and her daughter Lidian."

His gaze swept over them without much interest, lingering for an extra moment on Elizabeth. Then he grumbled a surly greeting and continued on his way.

Julia winced slightly. "You must forgive my brother-in-law Garrett," she remarked once he was out of hearing. "He's usually more civil than that."

"I should hope so," Elizabeth said crisply, shaking her head in disapproval.

Dollie giggled and led Lidian upstairs while Julia took Elizabeth into the parlor. "I must apologize for Garrett," Julia confided, as they seated themselves on French chairs with delicate curved legs. "He was always charming and agreeable until two years ago, when his wife Audrey died of an unexpected fever. He loved her quite desperately. Losing her was a devastating blow. After the funeral, Edgar and I invited him to stay with us for as long as he wants. He seems to take some small comfort in being with his family, but he's an intensely private man. Much of the time we hardly know he's here." She shrugged gracefully, her mouth touched with sadness. "I doubt Garrett will remarry. Since Audrey's pa.s.sing he's shown no interest in women-respectable ones, that is."

"Are there any children?"

Julia shook her head. "I'm afraid they were never blessed with children. But Garrett never seemed to care about that as long as he had Audrey. Now he has no one."

Elizabeth felt slightly more sympathetic toward the man, despite his incivility. "It is difficult to grow old without a life's companion," she remarked. "At least I have the comfort of my daughter."

"Will you ever remarry, Lizzie?"

"Heavens, no!" Elizabeth smiled at the notion. "John was quite irreplaceable. If only I could see Lidian happily married, I would be content to spend the rest of my life with my grandchildren about me."

"But you're still youthful and attractive!" Julia exclaimed. "You could easily find another husband. I know some distinguished men of suitable age and situations-"

"No, no," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "All I want is to find a husband for Lidian. I have no intention of seeking any suitors for myself."

"You sound as stubborn as Garrett! It appears I must focus all my matchmaking efforts on Lidian."

As Lidian and Dollie ascended the stairs, Lidian glanced at their surroundings with a touch of uneasiness, half-afraid that Eric De Gray might suddenly appear. "Dollie," she asked warily, "does your brother live here with the rest of the family?"

"Eric? No, he resides in a town house near Pall Mall." Dollie smiled slyly as she added, "Now that you're staying with us, I suspect he'll visit more frequently."

A frown crossed Lidian's face. "Oh."

Dollie threw her a perplexed glance. "You seem dismayed. Well, I thought every woman in the world had aspirations to catch my brother!"

"Your brother is attractive," Lidian admitted, in the most objective tone possible. "However, I'm already in love with someone."

"Are you?" Dollie made a face. "Thaf s too bad. I would like Eric to marry a girl like you someday. Someone kind and natural and unstuffy. Most women put on such airs around him." Dollie paused and added proudly, "He's the catch of the season, you know."

After a long, enjoyable talk with Julia, Elizabeth went to change from her traveling clothes into a blue day dress. It was a relief to stay at the home of an old friend, gaining a brief respite from the daily worries that she and Lidian usually faced. And this visit would be good for Lidian, if only to broaden her experience and show her some of the possibilities life could offer.

Elizabeth went toward the great staircase that led downstairs, but stopped at a large gold-framed mirror that adorned the end of the hall. Seeing that a few wisps of her hair had escaped their pins, she reached up to smooth them. She preferred everything about her appearance to be neat and controlled, never a hair out of a place or a spot on her clothes. The sound of footsteps was m.u.f.fled by the Aubusson carpet, and she didn't hear a man approaching until he had almost reached her.

Embarra.s.sed at having been caught primping, Elizabeth turned to face him with a guilty smile. However, her smile faded rapidly as she saw that the intruder was Garrett De Gray. His black eyes simmered with discontent, and his mouth had a hard, sullen cast. He looked untidy, as if he had just arisen from bed and dressed too hastily. She could detect the smell of brandy about him-and it was only the middle of the day!

"Lord De Gray," she said crisply, drawing herself up to her full height of five feet, three inches.

"Lady Acland," he said thickly. "If houseguests must be tolerated, I suppose you'll do."

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth said in astonishment. She would have felt sympathy for any other man in his situation, but this insolent creature hardly merited such kind regard.

He responded with a shameless glance up and down her body. "As plump and tidy as a little hen. Widowed in your prime...truly a waste. You may visit me at my rooms in the east wing if you're in need of companionship."

"Why, you rude man!" Elizabeth exclaimed, flushing in surprise. "No one has ever addressed me so disrespectfully-and coming from Edgar's brother-"

"Edgar and I are nothing alike, thank G.o.d. He's burdened with the proprieties and standards I never bothered living up to."

"You would do well to imitate him," she said frostily, and continued past him toward the stairs.

"Would I?" Garrett asked, and laughed nastily while she hurried away from him. "The east wing, madam. Don't forget."

3.

Eric tapped a restless rhythm on the inside wall of his carriage. Suddenly his fingertips stilled on the embossed leather, and his hand clenched into a tight fist. He was exasperated with himself for not being able to stop thinking about Lidian Acland. Perhaps it was because she had shown such determined indifference to him-he had never been able to resist a challenge. The memory of the kiss at the Willoughbys' ball still haunted him. Her mouth had been so soft beneath his, yielding sweetly to his urgent pressure. He wanted more, had wanted it every minute since that night three weeks ago.

After considering various plans to see Lidian again, he had asked his mother to invite the Aclands for an extended visit. She had complied without hesitation and had written to him that the Aclands were now comfortably settled at De Gray House. Such a lovely girl, his mother had written in her elegant script. Lidian is shy but very sweet. I am tempted to offer her some of my gowns, or Dollie's, as it appears that she and Elizabeth have brought painfully few clothes and possessions with them. However, they are both proud, and I wouldn't dare risk offending either of them. Call on us soon, my dear...

Eric intended to. He wanted to find out if the attraction between him and Lidian was as strong as he remembered. And if so...there was the problem of cutting through the illusions that made her cling so stubbornly to her past love. No man worthy of her would have left her, had there been any choice. To find out more about Spencer, Eric had decided to pay a visit to Craven's, the gambling club on St. James Street.

As a member of the club, Eric occasionally enjoyed trying his hand at the gaming tables and socializing with friends...but that wasn't his purpose tonight. Craven's was the best place he knew of to obtain information. The proprietor, Derek Craven, was acquainted with everyone of significance in England and Europe, no mean accomplishment for a c.o.c.kney who had been born in the gutter. Craven had established the finest gambling club in the world, and he knew exactly how to supply what his patrons wanted. It was rumored that he had every man of means in London investigated, so that he knew all about their inheritances, bank accounts, and property holdings.

Eric's carriage stopped in front of the building, a marble structure fronted with ma.s.sive columns and pediments. It was part Grecian temple, part bawdy house. There were several forms of entertainment offered at Craven's, including exquisite French cuisine, fine wine and liquor, billiards and cigars, lively music and beautiful house wenches. All of this was intended to stimulate the appet.i.te of the patrons for one thing: gambling. Unimaginable amounts of money were spent nightly at the hazard tables and in the card rooms.

Ascending the wide steps and nodding to the butler, Eric entered the club. Foreign diplomats, aristocrats, politicians, and businessmen all mingled in the famed central gaming room, lined in gilded columns and swaths of dark blue velvet. The room was octagonally shaped and topped with a domed ceiling. Seeing Derek Craven's slim, dark form at the central hazard table, Eric went to join him. Craven greeted him with a friendliness reserved for his wealthy patrons and motioned for an employee to bring Eric a drink.

"Good evening, milord," Craven said in his c.o.c.kney-accented English. He was a dark-haired man with a hard face and cold green eyes. His white teeth were slightly snaggled, giving his smile a snarling quality. "In for a bit o' play this evening?"

"Perhaps," Eric replied, watching the roll of dice across the green felt of the hazard table. He accepted the snifter of brandy a waiter brought him, and warmed the gla.s.s in his hands. "Craven," he said abruptly, "there's something I'd like to ask you."

Craven's black brows rose in silent inquiry.

Eric spoke quietly, not wanting the other men around the table to overhear. "I'm interested in finding out what you know about a certain Lord Chauncey Spencer. He's touring the Continent right now, but I expect he'll return soon."

Craven gave him an a.s.sessing glance. "May I ask what your interest is, milord? Owes you some money, does he?"

Eric shook his head and took a sip of brandy. "It involves a woman."

"Ah." Craven's smile appeared again. "She must be a fine bit o' fluff, to please a gentleman so particular as you. Does she belong to Viscount Spencer?"

"In a way."

"I know a little somefing about 'im," Craven admitted. "For almost a month, 'e's come to the club almost ewery night."

"He's back in England?" Eric asked with a touch of surprise.

Craven nodded, his face turning hard. "Spencer plays deep and doesn't pay 'is bills. At this rate, I'll refuse credit to him soon. E's no better than flash-gentry, in spite ow 'is fancy t.i.tle. Family's well-heeled but not rich. They won't leave much for 'im to inherit."

"Is Spencer here tonight?" Eric asked.

"'E's in one o' the card rooms right now. Would you like me to show you, milord?"

At Eric's nod, Craven casually disengaged himself from the hazard table and motioned for him to follow. Eric swallowed the remainder of his brandy and gave the gla.s.s to a pa.s.sing waiter. Together he and Craven walked through the octagonal room, past the dining and buffet areas, and approached the long row of card rooms. "The lady you want..." Craven remarked idly, "is she Spencer's mistress?"

"No. She believes herself to be in love with him."

"A pretty wench, is she?" Craven asked, seeming to be interested despite himself.

Eric gave him a speaking glance. "Beautiful. With black hair and skin the color of new milk."

Craven made an admiring sound. "Rum goods, it sounds like. I would wish you luck, De Gray, but I don't believe in luck. Only the kind a man makes for 'imself."

"An interesting statement, coming from the proprietor of a gambling club."

Craven smiled and gestured to their opulent surroundings. "'T'isn't luck what brought me all this, milord."

They stopped at one of the card rooms, where blue velvet drapes were parted to reveal a small group of men seated at a round table piled with gambling chips, cards, and refreshments. One of the players boasted loudly as he gathered in an armful of chips. Eric had no doubt that the man was Chance Spencer.

"This is nothing compared to the streak of luck I had on the Continent," Spencer was saying, his cheeks flushed with excitement and strong drink. He was a handsome man with slick black hair and a dark, sculptured face. "Everything I touched turned to gold. There were crowds of women around me, watching each turn of the card...they find it very erotic, you know, watching a man gamble-" He stopped as he saw Craven standing at the doorway, and a smug expression settled on his face. "Craven," he said heartily. "I see you've come to witness my success."

"Good evening, gentlemen," Craven murmured, his gaze sweeping the room. "Shall I send fresh cards to the table? More wine, per'aps?"

The five men at the table a.s.sured him of their comfort. Eric exchanged greetings with them, recognizing them from the club or from recent society events. One of them stood respectfully to shake his hand. "Lord De Gray," he murmured with a smile, "please convey my regards to your lovely sister."

"I will indeed," Eric replied.

Taking notice of Eric, Spencer stared at him intently. "We haven't met before."

Craven introduced them, and Spencer favored Eric with a charismatic smile. "Would you care to join us, De Gray? I've emptied the pockets of everyone else here."

Eric shook his head. "I'm on my way to the dining room."

"Afraid of losing your money?" Spencer taunted.

Derek Craven grinned at the question and gestured toward Eric. "Our Lord De Gray 'as money to burn. But what 'e wants, 'e can't buy."

"Everything worth having can be bought," Spencer countered. "Even people."

"Except for a few," Eric replied, finding it difficult to believe that this was the man Lidian Acland had given her heart to. Spencer's sort existed everywhere-self-important parasites who survived on the merest fringe of respectability. With a polite nod, Eric made his departure from the card room, wondering grimly why he was so fascinated with a woman who was in love with the likes of Spencer.

Derek Craven followed Eric casually. "Well, now you've met Lord Spencer. No woman in 'er right mind would choose a crowing bantam like Spencer over a gentleman such as yourself."

"Women," Eric said darkly. "Who can understand how they think?"

Craven snorted with amus.e.m.e.nt. "True, milord. But thank G.o.d for 'em, all the same."

Staying at De Gray house promised to be more enjoyable than Lidian had expected. She had never slept in such beautiful surroundings: a bedroom decorated in pale pink damask and delicate scrollwork panels, with satinwood furniture polished to a high gloss. The rest of the house was just as lovely, its elegant rooms kept spotlessly clean and bright.

Although Lidian never forgot her concern with the Acland estate affairs, she found herself putting it to the back of her mind as she and her mother spent a great deal of time with Julia and Dollie. Together they went on shopping trips in London and carriage drives in the park, while at home they made plans and pored over invitations for upcoming society events.

In the past few years there had been no time for Lidian to cultivate friendships with other young women, and she found herself liking Dollie very much. The girl was intelligent and kindhearted, possessing the disarming ability to laugh at her own faults. "I'm too romantic and impulsive for my own good," Dollie laughingly admitted to Lidian. "I seem to fall in love with a new gentleman every week."

"And what becomes of all these infatuations?" Lidian asked with a smile.

"They fade quickly. I haven't yet found the man I'm destined for."

"How will you know when you've found him?"