with her. She braced her palms on his shoulders again and continued to pelt him with damp, heated little kisses. When he got her to the desk, he lowered her until she was sit- ting on the edge. He used one hand to steady her and opened his trousers with the other. When his sex sprang free, she reached down and took him in her soft fingers. He closed his eyes and set his teeth against the hunger threatening to consume him. When he had himself back under control, he opened his eyes and saw that she was flushed with excitement, trembling with anticipation. He eased her legs apart and put his hands on the soft, bare skin just above her stockings. He went down on one knee in front of her and kissed the inside of her right thigh. Then he went farther, closing relentlessly on his goal. "Tobias." She clenched her hands in his hair. "What are you ... ? No, no, you cannot kiss me there. For goodness sake, Tobias, you must not. . . " He ignored her shocked protests. When he touched the tender, sensitive nubbin with the edge of his tongue, she finally stopped talking. The last of her protests died in a choked gasp. He slid his fingers into her and deepened the kiss. She came in near silence, as if she had no breath left. He felt the tightness within her dissolve in a series of tiny shivers. When the crisis had passed, he stood up and held her in a close embrace. She went limp against him. "Did you learn that in Italy?" she mumbled into his neck. "They do say there is nothing like the Grand Tour to put a polish on an education." He did not think the question required a reply Just as well. He did not trust himself to carry on a lucid conversation. He moved between Lavinia's legs and wrapped his hands around her lushly curved buttocks. She lifted her head off his shoulder and smiled slowly. Her eyes were like seas a thousand miles deep and filled with warm, enticing currents. He could not have looked away if he had tried. "The eyes of a practitioner of mesmerism," he whispered. "You have indeed put me into a trance." She touched the lobe of his ear with one fingertip. Then she touched the edge of his mouth. She smiled and he plunged deeper into the spell. He readied himself to plunge into her as well. The sound of the front door opening followed by muffled voices in the front hall stopped him cold just as he was about to sink himself into Lavinia's snug warmth. She stiffened in his arms. "Oh dear," she said urgently Tobias-" "Hell's teeth." He rested his forehead on hers. "Don't tell me-" "I do believe that Emeline has returned home somewhat earlier than expected." Panic infused Lavinia's voice. She batted at him ineffectually. "We must put ourselves to rights at once. She will be here in a moment." The trance was broken. He stepped back, fumbling with his trousers. "Calm yourself, Lavinia. I do not think she will notice anything amiss." "We need some fresh air in here." Lavinia bounced off the desk, shook out her skirts, and rushed to the window. She opened it wide. A cold, damp breeze rushed into the study. The fire flickered wildly. Tobias was amused. "It's raining, in case you had not noticed." She whirled around and shot him a repressive glare. "I am very well aware of that fact." He smiled. Then he heard a familiar voice coming down the hall. "I thought the portion of Mr. Halcomb's lecture devoted to the ruins of Pompeii was rather weak," Anthony said. "I agree. I doubt very much he went farther than the British Museum to conduct his researches." Lavinia stiffened. "What do they think they are doing? Good heavens, if any of the neighbors saw them enter an empty house together, Emeline will be ruined. Utterly ruined." "Uh, Lavinia-" ,I will handle this." She marched to the door of the study and flung it open. "Just what is going on here?" Anthony and Emeline, halfway down the hall, stopped. "Good afternoon, Mr. March," Emeline said. "Miss Emeline." Anthony looked wary. "Is there something wrong, Mrs. Lake?" "Have you no common sense?" she demanded furiously "Emeline, it is all very well to allow Mr. Sinclair to escort you as far as the front door, but to invite him into the house when there is no one about? What on earth were you thinking?" Emeline looked baffled. "But, Lavinia-" "What if any of the neighbors saw you?" Anthony exchanged a look with Emeline. Then a knowing expression appeared in his eyes. "Let me make certain I have this plain," he said. "You are concerned because I may have been seen escorting Miss Emeline into a house where there is no one present to act as a chaperone. Correct? " "Precisely." Lavinia fitted her hands to her hips. "Two unmarried young people entering the house together? What will the neighbors think?" "Allow me to point out the small flaw in your logic," Emeline murmured. Lavinia glowered. "And what is that, pray tell?" "The house is not empty. You and Mr. March are both here. One could hardly ask for more appropriate chaperones." There was a short, brittle silence while that observation took hold. Tobias managed to swallow his laughter. He glanced at Lavinia, wondering when it would dawn on her that she had violently overreacted to Anthony and Emeline's innocent homecoming. A close call sometimes had that effect on the nerves, he reflected. Lavinia sputtered, turned very pink, and then launched into the only argument left. "That is all very well, but you did not know we were here, Emeline." "Well, as to that," Anthony said diffidently, "we did know you were home. Lady Wortham's footman escorted Miss Emeline to the front door. When she opened it with her key, she saw Tobias's hat and gloves and your cloak. She assured Lady Wortham that you were both present, and the good lady gave her approval for me to enter the house with Miss Emeline before she and Miss Priscilla drove away." "I see," Lavinia said weakly "Evidently you did not hear us arrive in Lady Wortham's carriage," Emeline said. "Nor did you hear me tell her that you were home." "Uh, no." Lavinia cleared her throat. "We heard nothing. We were occupied in the study." "You must have been concentrating on a very important matter," Anthony said with a deceptively innocent smile. "We made a fair amount of noise, did we not, Miss Emeline? " "We certainly did," Emeline said. "Indeed, I cannot imagine anyone failing to hear us." Lavinia's mouth opened but no words emerged. She closed it quickly. The pink in her cheeks turned to red. Mischief sparkled in Emeline's eyes. "Whatever were you and Mr. March conversing about that was so fascinating you did not hear us arrive?" Lavinia took a deep breath. "Poetry." Lavinia stood with Joan in the relatively quiet shelter of a window alcove and surveyed the crowded ballroom. She was torn between her concern for Tobias and a sense of triumph. Since there was nothing she could do about the former, she allowed herself to revel in her latest social coup. The Colchester affair was everything she could have asked for in the way of a setting for Emeline. The ballroom had been decorated in the Chinese style, with a mix of Etruscan and Indian motifs. Mirrors and gilt had been used in glittering profusion to enhance the effect. Dressed in the deep turquoise gown that Madame Francesca had stipulated for such an occasion, her dark hair swept up in a clever style and trimmed with small ornaments, Emeline looked as elegant and exotic as her surroundings. "Congratulations, Lavinia," Joan murmured. "That young man who just asked to escort Emeline out onto the dance floor is in line for a title." "Estates? " "A number of them, I believe." Lavinia smiled. "He appears to be quite charming." "Yes." Joan watched the dancers. "Fortunately, young Reginald does not take after his father. But that is not surprising, under the circumstances." "I beg your pardon?" Joan's smile was cold. "Reginald is Bolling's third son. The first was found dead in an alley behind a brothel. It was assumed he was murdered by a footpad who was never arrested." "I collect that you do not believe the tale?" Joan raised one shoulder in the smallest of graceful shrugs. "It was no secret he had a fondness for very young girls. There are some who believe he was stabbed by a relative of one of the small innocents he had debauched. Perhaps an older brother." "If that is the case, I cannot feel any pity for Bollings first heir. What happened to the second?" "He was in the habit of drinking heavily and going into the stews in search of entertainment. One night he was found facedown in a gutter outside a notorious hell. Drowned in a few inches of water, they say" Lavinia shuddered. "Not a happy family" "No one ever dreamed that young Reggie would inherit the title, of course, certainly not Lady Bolling. Indeed, having done her duty by giving her husband an heir and a spare, she went her own way after the birth of her second son." Lavinia glanced at her. "She took a lover?" "Yes." "Are you implying that the lover is Reginald's father?" "I think it quite likely He has his mother's brown hair and dark eyes, so it is impossible to be certain of his sire. But I seem to recall that Bolling's first two sons both had fair hair and light eyes. 11 "So the title is likely going to the offspring of some man other than Bolling." Such incidents occurred more often than anyone acknowledged, Lavinia reflected. Among the ton, where marriages were made for a variety of reasons, none of which involved affection, it was only to be expected that a certain number of heirs came into their inheritances via somewhat indirect paths. "Frankly, in my opinion it is all for the best in this case," Joan said. "There is something in the blood of the men of Bolling's line that is not wholesome. They have a history of coming to a bad end through their own weaknesses. Bolling himself is hopelessly addicted to the milk of the poppy. It is a wonder he has not done himself in with an overdose." Lavinia gave her a quick, searching glance. This was not the first such gossipy tale she had heard from her companion tonight. Perhaps it was a certain sense of boredom induced by their enforced association that had inspired Joan to relate a series of rumors and secrets concerning their fellow guests. Lavinia had learned more about the foibles and scandals of the ton in the past hour than she had in the past three months. "For a lady who does not go out much into Society," Lavinia said cautiously, "you appear to be exceptionally well informed about those who move in the highest circles." Joan tightened her gloved fingers around her fan. There was only the smallest of hesitations before she inclined her head. "My husband made it a point to acquaint himself with information and rumors that he thought might affect his financial affairs. For example, he looked very thoroughly into the background of Colchester's heir before he accepted the offer for Maryanne's hand." "Naturally," Lavinia said. "I would do the same thing if a young man showed a strong interest in my niece." "Lavinia?" "Yes? "Do you really think it's possible that my husband may have kept the truth about his criminal activities from me for all those years? " The wistful quality of the question brought a shimmer of moisture to Lavinia's eyes. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. "I think he may have gone to great lengths to keep his secrets from you because he loved you so much, Joan. He would not have wanted you to know the truth. Indeed, he may have thought you would be safer if you did not know it." "In other words, he wished to protect me?" "Yes." Joan smiled sadly. "That would have been so very like Fielding. His first concerns were always for the welfare of his wife and daughter. " Anthony materialized out of the throng. He had a glass of champagne in each hand. "Who the devil is Emeline dancing with now? " "Bollings heir." Lavinia took one of the glasses from him. "Are you acquainted with him?" "No." Anthony glanced over his shoulder toward the dance floor. "I assume he was properly introduced?" "Of course." She took pity on him. "Dont be too concerned. She has not promised the next dance to anyone in particular. I'm sure she would be delighted to take the floor with you." Anthony's expression cleared immediately. "Do you think so?" "I am almost certain of it." "Thank you, Mrs. Lake. I am very grateful." Anthony turned away to scrutinize the floor. Joan lowered her voice so only Lavinia could hear her beneath the swell of the music. "I thought I heard Emeline promise the next dance to Mr. Proudfoot." "I will take full responsibility. I shall say I made a mistake when I made a note of the names for Emeline." Joan studied Anthony, who was intent on the dancers. "Forgive me for offering advice, Lavinia, but I feel I should point out that if you find Mr. Sinclair unacceptable as a future nephew-inlaw, you are not doing him a kindness by encouraging him to dance with Emeline." "I know. There is no money, no title, and no estates in that direction, but I must confess, I rather like him. In addition, I can see how happy he and Emeline are when they are together. I am determined to give my niece a Season or two and a chance to meet a variety of eligible young men., But in the end, she will make her own decision." "And if she chooses Mr. Sinclair?" "They are both really quite clever, you know. Something tells me that, between the two of them, they will not starve." The big house was drenched in darkness save for a small fire burning dimly down below in the vicinity of the kitchens. Tobias stood in the shadows at the rear of the main hall and listened for a moment. He heard muffled giggles and a man's drunken laughter in the distance. Two members of the household staff had obviously found something more entertaining to do than to slip away for the evening. Their presence downstairs would not be a problem, he decided. He had no reason to search that portion of the mansion. A man of Neville's class would have little interest in the area of the house that was the domain of his servants. It would certainly never occur to him to conceal his secrets in a realm he seldom if ever entered. In point of fact, Tobias thought as he moved through the gloomfilled hall, Neville had no reason to go to extraordinary lengths to hide anything in this house. VAy would he bother? He was lord and master here. "Bloody hell," Lavinia said to Joan. "I just saw Neville and his wife in the crowd." "Not surprising." Joan looked almost amused by Lavinia's scowl. "I told you, everyone who is anyone will put in an appearance tonight or risk offending Lady Colchester." "I still cannot believe the sweet old lady who greeted us at the door has the power to terrify everyone in Society." "She rules with an iron fist." Joan smiled. "But she seems to be quite fond of my daughter. I'd like to keep things that way." For her part, Lady Colchester would not want to lose the large inheritance Maryanne would bring into the Colchester coffers, Lavinia thought. But she decided not to