Anthony studied the object in the dappled light. "A button from a uniform, I believe."

"Heavens, what odd objects we seem to find in these woods. First a brooch and now a button. Perhaps this place is haunted."

Anthony could envision a far more prosaic reason for the woods to be littered with bits and pieces of clothing. He flashed her a wicked grin.

"I w-would guess that the specters haunting these woods have not yet seen the inside of a grave."

She was swift to follow the direction of his thoughts and her golden brows lifted.

"A lovers' tryst?"

"Yes."

She glanced around the thick line of trees, then noted the underbrush that would offer protection from the hard ground.

"It is rather a romantic location, you must admit."

Anthony gritted his teeth as a predictable heat surged through his body. A heat that was becoming more and more difficult to contain.

"Good gads, do not put such dangerous thoughts in my mind."

Her expression became coy as she fluttered the ridiculously long lashes. "Do you mean to tell me they were not already there?"

Anthony gave a bark of laughter. He never felt so alive as he did with this woman.

"Minx," he chided, taking the reins from her hands. "Let us go while I am able to maintain a thread of common sense."

He firmly led them from the tempting isolation of the trees, for once aware that his legendary self-control was in dire danger of going up in flames. Rachel readily followed his lead, although there was a decidedly pleased smile on her lips.

Clearly she enjoyed the sensation of rattling his composure, he wryly acknowledged.

They crossed the parkland and as they entered the courtyard Anthony lifted a hand toward a young groom. The servant hurried forward to offer a swift bow.

"Sir."

"Take the horses to the stables." He held out the reins to the lad.

"At once."

With an odd glance at the unusual saddle on the mare, the servant hurried away, leaving Anthony free to concentrate on the maiden at his side.

Turning, he met her teasing glance.

"Are you not about to disappear, sir?" she asked in light tones.

He raised his brows. "Not unless you wish me to, my dear."

"Of course not." Her swift denial stirred a glow of satisfaction within him until she managed to dampen his smug pleasure with her artless smile. "Indeed, I particularly have something that I wish to show you."

His smile was wry as he gave a faint nod of his head. So much for his irresistible charm.

"I am at your disposal."

With a mysterious smile she headed straight for the house. Anthony readily followed, amused by her obvious anticipation.

There was a vivid energy about her that was utterly captivating. This woman would never be content to live her life in the quiet, placid style that was expected by society. She would charge boldly through the world with no concern that she was not nearly as comfortably predictable as most gentlemen preferred.

They entered the house through a side door and leading him to a narrow staircase used by the servants, she began climbing to the third floor.

Reaching the landing, she swept past the large ballroom and at last halted in a small, dark alcove.

Coming to stand close enough to inhale the sweet scent of roses, he regarded her shadowed countenance.

"Why, Rachel, are you once again leading me to some remote spot to have your evil way with me? You must think of my r-reputation."

She cast him a dry glance. "Do you see this?"

He followed the direction of her outstretched hand. "It looks remarkably like a common door. Hardly an astonishing discover."

"That is because you do not yet know what lies beyond it." She reached her hand into the reticule she carried to withdraw a small key. Bending forward she inserted it into the lock.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded in surprise.

"My maid was kind enough to borrow it from the housekeeper."

"Borrow or steal?" he demanded.

"Well, I could not risk unwelcome questions," she retorted, pushing the door open and dropping the key back into her reticule.

Without hesitation she plunged through the doorway and began climbing the short flight of stairs directly behind the door. Not nearly as eager, Anthony followed behind, plucking at the numerous cobwebs that threatened to cling to his coat.

"Gads, I do not believe anyone has been through here in the past century."

"We must be quiet," she warned as she stepped into the room atop the stairs.

Waiting until he had joined her, she pushed aside a heavy curtain opposite the stairs to reveal a vast room below them. With a faint prick of surprise Anthony realized that they were standing on a narrow balcony.

"The ballroom," he said softly, noting the servant across the room scrubbing the floor. He glanced around the balcony, a frown marring his wide brow. "Surely this is much too small for the orchestra?"

"My maid discovered that it was built for visiting royalty to enjoy the various balls."

That explained the gruesomely ornate chairs beside the railing, he acknowledged with a grimace.

"And did a large number of Royals visit Carlfield Manor?"

She gave a low chuckle as she absently brushed at the dust clinging to her pretty buttercup silk gown.

"No, but the mere fact that you possess a Royal Box makes one appear far more superior."

Anthony gave a shake of his head at the faded gilding and threadbare velvet curtains.

"I do not believe Prinny would be especially pleased to discover the sadly neglected state of his box. Still, I am not quite certain what your interest in this moldy location is."

She regarded him as if surprised by his thorough lack of perception. "Do you not see? It is perfect."

"I must apologize for my slow wits," he said with gentle mockery, "but I fear I do not see at all. What is it perfect for, beyond ruining the shine upon my boots?"

"To hide Julia, of course," she said impatiently. "So that she can attend her first ball."

Anthony did not attempt to hide his shock at her feather-brained scheme.

"Good God."

Oblivious to his patent lack of enthusiasm to her plot, she regarded him with a sparkling gaze.

"She has already informed me that Mrs. Greene puts her to bed shortly after nine and then returns upstairs to enjoy her dinner in her own chambers. She does not return to check on her until the next morning unless Julia rings the bell."

He supposed that he should not be surprised at her audacious plot. She thought nothing of shocking society or flaunting her intimate connection with the Devilish Dandy. Why would she not suggest kidnapping a girl from the safety of her bed and smuggling her into a house crammed to the rafters so she could enjoy her first ball?

Still, he found himself wanting to hear about the madcap scheme from her own lips.

"Are you suggesting that we steal Julia from her bed and sneak her into this balcony?"

"Yes." She smiled with unnerving confidence, making Anthony's heart sink. There was a stubborn set to that lovely jaw that he did not like at all. "We will pull the curtains until there is only a small space for her to see through. She will attend the ball and wear her new gown just as she wished."

Anthony narrowed his gaze. "And how do your propose that we achieve this amazing feat?"

She regarded him in a superior fashion. "I have all the details worked out."

Anthony rolled his eyes, knowing he was lost.

"Heaven help me."

Eleven.

Rachel had been singularly unprepared for the vast effort that it required to play the role of fairy godmother.

On the surface her plan to let Julia attend the ball had seemed simple enough. It was only when Anthony had demanded concise details that she realized just how difficult it would be to accomplish her goal.

The balcony had to be thoroughly cleaned without attracting the attentions of the servants or guests, the ball gown had to be retrieved from the dressmaker and smuggled to Julia, then Rachel was forced to dress for the ball several hours early so that her maid could go with Anthony to prepare the girl for her special evening. He was to bring her to Carlfield Manor in his carriage and carry her up the servants' staircase to the balcony.

It was exhausting and at times nerve-wracking, but at last Rachel had nothing left to do but leave her room and join the seemingly endless guests that crowded the ballroom.

As she had intended, her appearance created a decided rustle in the room. Unlike the other maidens, she was attired in a deep-ruby gown that precisely matched the jewel about her neck. White crepe roses studded with rubies encircled the hem and formed a wreath in her golden curls. The neckline was low-cut with tiny puff sleeves that exposed a great deal of snowy-white skin.

It was a daring, vibrant gown that she had chosen to bring a furious frown to Lady Broswell's ugly countenance. Rachel, however, did not even glance over to where her aunt glowered and stewed beside her insipid daughters. Instead she busily began to dismiss the eager admirers that crowded about her so that she could keep a covert watch on the balcony across from her.

Despite her confident determination to ensure that Julia was allowed to enjoy the ball, she was not impervious to the risk they were taking.

Anything might go astray.

Mrs. Greene might discover Julia missing and raise the alarm.

Anthony might be seen carrying Julia to the stairs at the end of the corridor.

Julia might become overexcited and reveal her position on the balcony.

Or a curious servant might decide to creep into the little-used balcony to gaze upon the guests and discover the hidden maiden.

Rachel was all-too aware that it was no doubt poor Julia who would suffer the consequences of discovery. She could only pray that all went smoothly and that the child felt the excitement of her first ball was worth the danger they courted.

Having at last rid herself of even the most persistent suitor, Rachel absently sipped her champagne and pretended to enjoy the couples beginning to twirl about the dance floor. Instead her gaze was darting toward the curtains surrounding the balcony. At least Julia would have an excellent view of the dancers, she acknowledged. The four large chandeliers blazed with enough candles to flood the entire room with flickering light.

She thought that she had just noted a tiny ripple in one of the curtains when she suddenly was interrupted by the sight of Violet pressing her way through the crowd toward her.

As was appropriate, the young lady was attired in a white gown with a modest neckline. A profusion of pink ribbons dotted the hem and large puffed sleeves. Unfortunately the color and style did nothing to enhance her pale features and rounded curves.

Not that the most skilled seamstress could have created the image of a glittering prospective bride, Rachel thought with a pang. There was a deep, unshakable misery in those dark eyes that sent a flare of concern through Rachel.

Coming to a halt beside her, Violet regarded her with a trace of envy.

"Oh, Rachel, how very beautiful you are."

Rachel smiled gently. "Thank you, Violet. And you, of course, look lovely."

Violet grimaced, clearly as aware as Rachel of the limitations of her gown.

"That is very kind, but I always look wretchedly insipid in white. How I wish I possessed your courage to wear what I desire."

"That is one of the privileges of being born into scandal," Rachel said in wry tones. "The old tabbies are bound to gossip about me regardless of what I do, so I might as well give them something outrageous to discuss."

Violet appeared to consider her words, her hands absently opening and shutting her ivory fan.

"Does the scandal bother you overly much?"

Rachel was surprised by the question. Even though they were friends, Violet had always taken excruciating care to avoid any mention of Rachel's sordid connection to the Devilish Dandy, or even her own habit of setting tongues wagging.

"Not at all," she retorted with blunt honesty. "Those who are my true friends seek beyond the gossip. The others do not concern me."

Violet gnawed her bottom lip until Rachel feared she might draw blood.

"What of those who give you the cut direct?"