"Yes, thank you, ma'am."

With the air of one who could contain herself no longer, Horatia broke in, "Harry brought Felicity up to town. She'll be staying with us in Berkeley Square, and I'll be taking her into society."

Helena's gaze flew to Horatia's face; her smile deepened, and deepened. Looking again at Flick, she positively beamed. "My dear, I am so very glad to meet you!"

Before Flick could blink, the Dowager embraced her enthusiastically, then, one arm about her waist, bustled her down the lawn. With a Gallic charm impossible to resist, the Dowager introduced her to her sisters-in-law first, then the older ladies, and eventually the younger ones, two of whom, clearly twins, were adjured to ensure Flick wanted for nothing, including help with names and relationships.

The pair were the most ravishing blonde beauties Flick had ever seen. They had skin like alabaster, eyes like cornflower pools and a wealth of ringlets almost as golden as her own. She expected them to hang back-they might be younger than she, but she was definitely not in their social league. To her surprise, they smiled at her delightedly-every bit as delightedly as their mother and aunts had-and swooped forward to link arms with her.

"Excellent! I thought this party would be just the usual thing-pleasant but hardly exciting. Instead, we get to meet you!"

Flick blinked-she glanced from one to the other, trying to remember which was which. "I've never thought of myself as exciting."

"Hah! You must be, otherwise Demon would never have looked your way."

The second girl laughed. "Don't mind Amanda." She grinned as Flick glanced around. "I'm Amelia. You'll get used to telling us apart-we're not identical."

They weren't, but they were very much alike.

"Tell us," Amelia urged, "how long have you known Demon?"

"We ask," Amanda put in, "because until the last few weeks he's been severely testing our sanity by watching over us at the balls and major parties."

"Indeed. So we know he went up to Newmarket a few weeks ago. Is that where you met him?"

"We did meet at Newmarket," Flick agreed, "but I've lived there since I was seven, and I've known Demon from the first."

Both girls stared at her, then Amanda frowned. "What the devil's he been doing, keeping you hidden away like that?"

"Excuse us for asking, but you are older than us, aren't you? We're eighteen."

"I'm twenty," Flick replied. The twins were taller and certainly more socially assured, but there was a subtle difference; she hadn't imagined herself younger than them.

"So why," Amanda reiterated, "didn't Demon bring you down last year? He's not one for dragging his boots-not him."

"He does tend to drive fast," Flick grinned. "He didn't bring me down last year, because… well, he didn't really know I existed last year."

That comment, of course, led to further questions, further revelations. Which cleared the way for Flick to ask why Demon had been watching them.

"Sometimes I think it's simply to drive us mad, but truly they can't seem to help themselves, poor dears."

Amanda shook her head. "It's something in the blood."

"Luckily, once they marry, they're not such a bother. They'd still interfere if they could, mind you, but Honoria, Patience and Catriona have so far kept Devil, Vane and Richard out of our way." Amelia looked at Flick. "And now you'll be here to keep Demon occupied."

"With any luck," Amanda added dryly,"the others will find ladies to dote on before we become ape-leaders."

Flick grinned. "Surely they can't be that inhibiting."

"Oh, can't they?" the twins chorused. They promptly recounted a series of events illustrating their claim, in the process giving Flick vignettes of Demon within the ton-surrounded by beautiful women. Sensing her interest, the twins dismissively waved aside his London conquests.

"Don't worry about them-they never last long, and now he'll be too busy with you."

"Watching over you, thank heaven!" Amanda raised her eyes to the skies. "Only got two more to go."

Amelia chuckled, and looked at Flick. "Gabriel and Lucifer."

"Who?"

The twins laughed, and explained about their older male cousins, the group known as the Bar Cynster.

"We're not supposed to know about the Bar Cynster, so remember not to mention it to Demon," Amanda warned.

They continued, giving her a potted history of the family-who was whose child, brother, sister. They beckoned the only younger girl over-their cousin, Heather, nearly sixteen.

"I won't be presented until next year," Heather sighed, "but Mama said I could attend the family events this year. Aunt Louise is giving an informal ball next week."

"You'll be invited," Amanda assured Flick. "We'll make sure your name is on the list."

Amelia stifled a snort. "Mama will make sure your name is on the list."

Minutes later, they were summoned to distribute the tea cups. Flick did her share, moving easily among the company. Although every lady she paused beside spoke with her, beyond the information Horatia had imparted regarding her visit, not one word was said-not one inference drawn. At least, not within her hearing. Every lady made her feel welcome, and if, by dint of subtle questioning, they extracted her entire life history from her, it was no more than she'd expected. But they were the very opposite of nosy, and certainly not judgmental-their warm approval, their ready acceptance, the protection of the group so openly offered very nearly overwhelmed her.

One very old, very sharp-eyed lady closed a claw about her hand. "If you find yourself in a ballroom, gel, and at a loss what to do, then find one of us-even those flighty flibbertigibbets"-Lady Osbaldestone's black gaze skewered the twins, then she looked up at Flick-"and just ask. The ton can be a confusing place, but that's what family's for-you needn't feel shy."

"Thank you, ma'am." Flick bobbed a curtsy. "I'll remember."

"Good. Now you may give me one of those macaroons. Dare say Clara there would like one, too."

Lady Osbaldestone was not the only one to offer advice and support. Long before the afternoon came to an end and she and Lady Horatia took their leave, amid embraces, waves and plans to meet again, Flick felt she had literally been gathered to the bosom of the Cynster clan.

Settling back in the carriage, Horatia closed her eyes. Flick did the same, and looked back over the afternoon.

They were amazing. She'd known Demon had a large family, but that the Cynsters would prove such a close tribe had been a pleasant surprise. She'd never had a real family-not since her parents had died. She'd never felt part of a continuing whole, a group that had a before and would also have an after, beyond the individual members. She'd been alone since the age of seven. The General, Dillon and the Hillgate End household had become her surrogate family, but this was something very different.

If she married Demon, she would become, once again, part of a real family. One in which there were other women to talk to, to turn to for support; one where, by unspoken accord, the men watched over the young women, even if they weren't their sisters.

In some ways, it was all new to her-in other ways, at some deeper level, it touched a chord that resonated deeply. It felt very right. Opening her eyes, she stared, smiling but unseeing, out of the window, deeply glad at the prospect of becoming a Cynster.

Two mornings later, in a far from glorious mood, Demon gritted his teeth and turned his bays toward the park. For the third time in as many days, he'd arrived at his parents' house only to learn that Miss Parteger was out.

He'd called on the afternoon of the day he'd brought her to town, imagining her sitting alone and forlorn while his mother napped. Instead, they'd been gossiping at his Aunt Helena's-and he knew very well about what. He'd swallowed his disappointment, uneasily surprised that he'd felt it, and reflected that this was precisely why he'd brought Flick to town-so his dear family, especially the female half, could help her make up her mind to marry him. He had no doubt they would do so. They were past masters at engineering weddings. As far as he was concerned, they could exercise their talents on his behalf.

So he'd retired, leaving no message-nothing to alert his too-perceptive mother that he'd been impatient enough to call. He'd arrived promptly for dinner, but discovered that seeing Felicity over a dinner table with his parents present didn't satisfy his appetite.

Yesterday, he'd called at eleven-a perfectly innocuous time. Turning up too close to breakfast would have been too revealing. Highthorpe had looked at him with sympathy and informed him that his mother, his aunt and the young lady had gone shopping.

He knew that meant they'd be away for hours. And they'd be in one of those silly, feminine moods when they returned, wanting to tell him about frills and furbelows, unreceptive to the notion of paying attention to him.

He'd retreated in good order, noting again that this was a part of why he'd brought Flick to town-so she could be seduced by the entertainments available as his wife. Shopping, to the female soul, ranked high as entertainment.

In other arenas, fate was being more helpful; he'd heard on the grapevine that Rattletrap Selbourne had contracted mumps from his sister's offspring and was not expected in town this Season. Selbourne was one complication he could temporarily put from his mind.

Today, he'd arrived at Berkeley Square midmorning, quite sure he'd find Flick waiting to impress him in one of her new gowns.