"And I give you credit for being the lowest, most despicable man I have ever met!"

"Hah!" he shouted. "You are the one who imposed herself on my party. On myself and my friends." He wanted to shake her. "Do you have any idea with whom you're dealing?"

"Do you, sir? I am not one of the half-brained nitwits from your social circle. I am not one of the whores you cavort with in the middle of the afternoon."

"You will not disparage the women who choose to visit me in my home."

"Oh, you're right of course," she answered in her most condescending tone, "I can leave that to your servants. They know best what your female friends are like. So tell me, did you and your Lady Margaret have a good laugh after she was allowed to nearly assault me? I'm sure 'twas an added measure of entertainment for all of you."

' 'We did not laugh about it. I was quite upset Contrary to what you wish to believe, Miss Fitzsimmons, the servants in my houses are well treated."

She wasn't swallowing it. "Especially all those girls who came as maids but left as women."

"Where did you hear these outrageous things?"

"Do you deny it, milord? That you love nothing better than seducing a sweet young thing?" She turned away and fiddled with the items on the sideboard. "Get out of my sight. I can't bear to look at you."

There she was, doing it again! As if she were the noblewoman, and he some lowborn lad. "You will not dismiss me," he shouted again. He reached for her arm and whirled her back to face him. "I will have my say."

"Then say it and go."

Phillip pulled himself up so he towered over her. She didnat even blink. No fear. No embarrassment No respect or deference. Just a complete lack of regard for all he represented. "I came to you in good faith, wondering if perhaps a beneficial union between us was possible. I can see that I was completely misled by my solicitor."

"Pray tell me, sir, in what manner were you misled?" The very picture of innocence, she fluttered her eyelids.

The sweet, mocking smile was too much. It was time to strike back. "He told me he'd found a sweet, virtuous young woman, from a good family, who was considering marriage. Obviously, nothing could be further from the truth. I find you rude and unpleasant. In possession of an uncontrollable temper. A woman whose lack of common sense lets her wander into impossible situations." No reaction. Best to hit where her pride ran truest. "A woman who comes from such a disreputable family that her own father allowed her to involve herself in the family's commerce. I could never take such a one as you to wife."

aYes, it's so horrible that I have a head for figures and trade," she said sarcastically, "but at least my family's business was alive and thriving when I left Portsmouth. What say you of yours?"

Phillip knew he had to leave the room immediately or he just might strike her. The nerve! The gall! For this stranger, this commoner, this woman to question his life was beyond imagining. "I'll take my leave now, Miss Fitzsimmons. You have insulted me, my tide, my family. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last woman on earth."

He turned to go, and she shouted at his back, "And I wouldn't have you if you were the last man!"

A glass smashed against the door, but he kept walking as though he hadn't noticed. Thumberton and Mrs. Carew were huddled together at the bottom of the stairs, obviously trying to make out the words of the loud argument. Thumberton was holding Phillip's hat and cane, and Phillip reached for them and headed for the door. "Come, sir, escort me out of this madhouse."

Chapter Six.

Jane stood at the window, looking out at the cold, gray day and listening as her fifth and final suitor retreated down the stairs. Outside, one hearty soul braved the weather and passed by on the street below.

"Are they gone?" Jane whispered as Elizabeth returned from seeing him and the solicitor off.

"Yes, thank goodness." Sensing her friend's mood matched the gloomy day, she joined her by the window. "What are you thinking?"

"That I could probably go down and pluck that man off the street and he'd be better than any of these imbeciles Thumberton has sent to me." She started to giggle, Elizabeth joined her; then the giggles turned to laughs. As they both recalled the meetings of the past two days, the laughter grew until they were both nearly doubled over. Jane moved from the window and flopped back on the couch. "Ahhh, I can't believe this. I haven't met such an offensive person in a very, very long time."

"I imagine poor Master Wiley was a nice enough sort, but his mother! Could you possibly imagine living with that woman day in and day out?"

Wishing she could jump out the window and disappear, Jane shook her head. What a disaster the past two days had turned out to be!

Each of the men she'd met had been horribly distasteful. Poor Jerome Wiley, the man who'd just left, was just one of the peas in a terrible pod. With the exception of Phillip Wessington, not one of them had any looks to speak of, no charm, personality or charisma. He possessed all. Wessington was the only one who could carry on an interesting conversation. He had been the only one to ask about her life in Portsmouth. She'd been so inconsequential to the others that not a single one had asked her anything about herself.

Elizabeth's gentle voice broke into her painful reverie. "Whatever are you going to do, Jane?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine that Father had any idea of the type of men Thumberton would provide for me to meet. Can you imagine what he'd say if I brought one of these men to Portsmouth?"

"Well, I do think he'd be quite pleased with the Earl of Rosewood."

"Don't dwell on it, Liz." Jane sighed. "Thinking of him just makes all of this so much worse. We've got to figure out what to do." The folder with the information about the gentlemen was laying on a side table. Jane picked it up and absentmindedly leafed through the pages again. "I really like Master Thumberton; he seems like an astute man. I can't imagine why he would have felt any of these men would be appropriate. Not just for me, but for any woman. Can you imagine any poor female shackling herself to one of those clods?"

"No, I can't."

"Perhaps if I talked with him. Maybe he could reason with Father. He could explain the problems with the choices. Get me an extension of Father's deadline while we search for someone more appropriate."

Elizabeth smiled sadly. "Dear, I whispered as much to him yesterday after your gay blade departed. He said the instructions from your father were very clear. That absolutely, under no circumstances, would you be granted more time."

"Oh, Liz, what am I to do?"

"Well, I do have one thought."

"What is that?"

"I know you have quite a few angry feelings for the Earl, but put them aside for a moment."

"Why should I?"

"Well, if you forget about the things you witnessed at his house, he is quite a spectacular gentleman. Handsome, educated, most likely well built in the appropriate places."

"Liz, for heaven's sake." Jane blushed slightly, looking embarrassed, but she'd never reveal that the flush was due to a strange heat that seemed to creep over her whenever she thought about the Earl. Her imagination was ripe, and she'd already passed many unpleasant moments wondering what was hidden under his clothes. For some reason, it was impossible to put the man entirely out of her mind as she wished to do.

Elizabeth saw the red cheeks and waved a hand. "No, no, don't be getting embarrassed on me now. This is too important. Hear me out. He's probably well schooled in the acts which take place in the marital bed. He offers a tide, estates, respect. Imagine being married to a member of Parliament!"

"Right." Jane snorted. "As if the lazy oaf could tear himself away from his women or gambling long enough to attend any sessions."

' 'You agreed to hear me out. Do you want my thoughts on this or no?"

"All right, all right. Tell me."

"Anyway, when you hold Phillip Wessington up against these others, it's almost as though Master Thumberton was stacking the deck against you."

' 'What do you mean? You think he actually selected some unsuitable candidates to make Wessington look better?"

''Think about it." Elizabeth was pacing back and forth as the thoughts circled in her head. "Of course, that has to be it. Don't you see? He di everything he could to make the Earl appear to be the only logical choice."

"I suppose you're right. But he's a very well known and respected solicitor. Why would he play such a game?"

"Imagine if you'd never stopped by Wessington's townhouse. You knew nothing at all about him except what you learned in this very room. Would there have been any question about whom you would select?"

"No, none," Jane had to admit.

"That's the answer then. I'm sure of it." Elizabeth sat next to Jane. "For whatever reason, Master Thumberton wanted you to select Wessington, and he did everything he could to make sure you would."

"He just didnat know I was likely to skew the deal by taking matters into my own hands."

"Yes, and as you said, I like him a great deal. I trust his judgment. There must be some reason he fancies the Earl."

"I can see that now. That sly old fox."

Elizabeth took her friend's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Jane, I know it would be a bitter tonic for you to swallow, but I think you need to talk to Master Thumberton first thing in the morning. Ask him about the Earl. Find out why Thumberton feels such loyalty to him and has such a need to help him out in this way. Perhaps there's still a chance for you."

"You think the Earl might still be interested in me? Oh, Liz, that's foolishness. I've lost my chance, I'm afraid."

"You don't know that you have. He's as desperate as you are, or he wouldn't have let Thumberton drag him here in the first place." Elizabeth squeezed her hand tighter and leaned closer. "Jane, I have loved you like a sister since we were young girls. I couldn't bear to have you married to one of those idiots Thumberton brought by for you to meet. I know the Earl has his faults in your eyes, but perhaps he has some redeeming qualities also. You need to find out, and see if Master Thumberton can fix things for you. If our friendship has ever meant anything to you, please say you'll do this for me."

Jane knew, as usual, Liz was right. It was just so difficult to think of asking Thumberton to cajole Wessington into meeting with her again, but the distasteful task had to be completed. Elizabeth knew it and Jane did too. She turned to look at her friend. "All right, Liz. I'll go talk to him in the morning."

Graves entered the room as Phillip stood in front of the mirror, yanking and pulling on the cravat he could not seem to tie into any semblance of order. He and the Earl had a very different relationship than most gentlemen had with their menservants. Because of Phillip's financial state and his inability to hire quality people or keep large numbers on staff, Graves filled many roles: valet, secretary, doorman, footman. Simply relieved to have a job after the misadventures at his last position, he was more than happy to do most of what the Earl required.

"Allow me, sir." Graves reached for the cravat.

"Graves, thank heavens. I thought I'd surely choke myself to death before I finished with the bloody thing."

With a few swift moves, Graves had it neatly tied. "There you are, sir, and you're looking quite dashing tonight, if I may say so."

"What do you want, you pirate?" Phillip eyed him suspiciously. "If it's a raise, the answer's no."

Graves chuckled. "It's a sad day when a man can't make an innocent comment about appearances without having his motives questioned."

"I've yet to hear you make an innocent comment about anything. Out with it. What do you want?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you'd had time to cool off after yesterday's unfortunate"a"Graves paused as he searched for the word that would adequately describe the Earl's meeting with Jane Fitzsimmons without setting off his temper againa""ah, yesterday's unfortunate incident."

'' So it's an incident now, is it? Last night,' twas a disaster. This morning, 'twas a debacle. Why the whitewash all of a sudden?"

"Well, since you've calmed considerably, I thought perhaps we should discuss what you must do next"

Phillip enjoyed his private moments with Graves very much. From the first, there'd been ample evidence that he held strong opinions about things and people and was going to share them whether or not anyone wanted to listen. The man was loyal, smart and possessed a great deal of common sense. Because Phillip felt that many times he possessed none of his own, he was usually more than glad to listen to Graves's ramblings. The man could nearly always pierce to the heart of the matter with little trouble.

"And what must I do next5"

"Well, we've been discussing the possibilities ..."

"We? God's teeth, not advice from the servants again. I know you people gossip, but didnat anyone ever explain to you that you're not supposed to let on that you do?"

"Well, sir, who understands you better than Cook and some of the others who've served you since you were a boy? They know what's best, whether you want to admit it or not."

"You could at least humor me and pretend it was your own idea, rather than letting me know that I'm the subject of unremitting discussion and debate." He shook his head in amusement. "So what say all of you?"

' 'You must talk to Master Thumberton and have him approach Miss Fitzsimmons with your apologies so you can set up another meeting."

Since he'd never passed a more unpleasant afternoon or suffered through such a river of insults and foul besmirchment of his character, the very last thing Phillip ever intended to do was speak again with Jane Fitzsimmons, but he was curious about the whisperings of the staff. "And the purpose of this meeting would be for what?"

"Well, to begin again the discussions about the possibility of your marriage to the young woman. Cook and I were quite taken with her."

Phillip raised an eyebrow. "Since you were the ones who let her in without checking her papers, I wouldn't throw that in my face just now if I were you."

"She was delightful. Smart, pretty. Well spoken."

"Let's not forget rich."

"No, let's not. You could, of course, do much better. But you most certainly could do much worse."

Graves's eyes shifted to the bed where Margaret's red silk negligee was still draped over the end. Refusing to argue over the woman, Phillip ignored the insinuation. "So all of you would have me wedded to Miss Fitzsimmons. After yesterday's fiasco, how are you advising I proceed?"

"Well, flowers to begin with, in copious amounts. And, of course, some bauble or other. Something simple but elegant. You're the lady's man. I'm sure you can think of something appropriate."

"And the purpose of these gifts would be . . . ?"

"To show how sorry you are for the unfortunate misunderstanding."

Phillip moved toward the door, and Graves followed him out into the hall and down the stairs. "There's the problem with your plan."

"What's that, milord?"

"I'm not the least bit sorry. Jane Fitzsimmons is a madwoman. I was already married to one, and I'll not wed another. The only good thing about yesterday is that I found out what she was truly like before taking any steps down the road toward matrimony."

They reached the foyer where Graves had the Earl's hat, gloves and walking stick waiting. He assisted Phillip with the gloves. "So there's not a chance, then?"

The man looked so forlorn that Phillip almost felt sorry to have dashed his hopes. "I'm sorry, Graves. But there's not a chance in hell." He opened the door and stepped out. The night was a miserable one, extremely cold and a freezing drizzle had begun falling.

"Your cloak," Graves offered before Phillip could ask for it.

Phillip smiled. Finding Graves was perhaps the only good thing that had happened to him in the past few years. "I'll probably be very late. Don't wait up for me."

"If you're sure, sir."

"I am. Enjoy your evening, Graves."

"You, too, milord."

The hackney Graves had arranged was waiting by the front gate. Phillip handed the driver the last few coins in his pocket, climbed in without assistance and relaxed back against the seat. In a few hours, he was due to meet up with Margaret. Even though she'd spent the previous night in his bed, their relationship was strained after the incident in his parlor. And, of course, Margaret had been only too delighted to find out that the serving girl and Jane Fitzsimmons were one and the same.

He wasn't in the mood for Margaret or any of her friends, but since they'd accepted the invitation several weeks earlier, there didnat seem to be a way to avoid the party without causing talk. More talk about himself and his financial problems or about his relationship with Margaret and where it was headeda"was the last thing he needed right now.