The game he was playing involved far too much risk. He needed to be stopped before he got himself into trouble.

She took a last swallow of her punch and put down her glass with a firm resolve. Tonight she was going to find out just what sort of unholy business the Fallen Angel was engaging in when he disappeared from a crowded ball. When she discovered the exact nature of his amuse­ments, she was going to give him a stern lecture. Boredom was not an excuse for engaging in mischief.

It was a simple task to slip through the crowd in Sebastian's wake. The people who noticed her nodded pleasantly, no doubt assuming she was on her way upstairs to one of the withdrawing rooms provided for the ladies.

Prudence smiled and chatted briefly with one or two of Hester's acquaintances, all the while edging toward the hall where Sebastian had vanished.

Several minutes later she found herself alone in an empty corridor. She glanced quickly around, picked up her mustard-colored muslin skirts, and hurried toward the back stairs.

When she reached the staircase, she paused again to check that none of the household staff was in the vicinity. None of the Thorn-bridges' handsomely liveried servants were in sight. At this hour they would all be occupied in the kitchens or circulating through the crowds with trays of punch and champagne.

Prudence gazed uneasily up into the darkness at the top of the stairs. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking Sebastian had come this way. She'd only had that last brief glimpse of him disappearing down this hall.

She started up the stairs, her soft dancing slippers silent on the wooden treads. When she reached the second floor, she hesitated again, trying to get her bearings. Two hall sconces were lit, but for the most part this section of the mansion was in shadow.

A small sighing sound from the far end of the darkened hall caught Prudence's attention. Someone had just closed a bedchamber door very quietly.

She went down the carpeted corridor until she reached the door. As she stood gazing at it, uncertain of her next move, a thin line of candlelight appeared at the bottom. Someone was inside.

Prudence's fingers trembled as she gripped the doorknob. If she was wrong in thinking Sebastian had entered the bedchamber, her next move could prove extremely embarrassing. She readied two or three logical excuses as she cautiously opened the door.

The glow of light she had seen a moment earlier disappeared in­stantly as she stepped into the room. The chamber was in complete darkness.

Prudence stood in the doorway for a few seconds, letting her eyes adjust to the lack of light. When she could just make out the bulky shape of a huge, canopied bed, she closed the door gently behind her.

"Sebastian?" she whispered. "Where are you? I know you're in here."

There was an almost soundless movement behind her. A man's hand clamped over her mouth. Prudence froze in fright as she found herself pinned against a large, hard body. Then she started to struggle furiously. Her teeth sank into the palm that covered her mouth.

"Bloody hell," Sebastian muttered in her ear. "I should have known it would be you. Give me your word you won't raise your voice above a whisper and I'll let you go. Nod your head if you understand."

Prudence nodded frantically. Sebastian released her, gripped her by the shoulders, and spun her around to face him. She could see almost nothing of his features in the darkness, but the tone of his voice and the manner in which his fingers dug into her shoulders told her he was furious.

"What the devil do you think you're doing up here?" he asked.

"Following you."

"You little fool." He gave her a small, exasperated shake. "Do you think this is some sort o'f game?"

Prudence braced herself. "No, but you apparently do. What is all this sneaking about, sir? You're clearly up to some mischief. You should be ashamed of yourself. What sort of behavior is this for a man of your background and title?"

"Just what I needed. A lecture on my behavior."

Too late, Prudence had a sudden, dreadful thought, one she had not previously considered. It very nearly robbed her of her breath. "You're not planning to meet someone up here, by any chance, my lord?"

"No, I am damn well not planning to meet someone. I've got business up here, if you must know."

Prudence wondered at the sense of relief that shot through her. "What sort of business?"

"It involves a necklace, not that it's any of your concern."

"I was afraid of that." Prudence wished she could see his face more clearly. "Sir, I refuse to believe that you have resorted to steal­ing necklaces in order to amuse yourself. You cannot have grown that bored with life in Town."

"Damn it, I am no thief." He sounded genuinely affronted.

"Of course not. I didn't think so. But you are a man who enjoys puzzles, aren't you? Tell me precisely what you're doing in this bed­chamber."

"I told you, I was looking for a necklace. I'm not going to stand here explaining myself to you, however. We've got to get out of here before someone comes along. There's no telling how many people saw you come up here."

"No one saw me," she assured him.

"How would you know? You're hardly an expert at this sort of thing."

"And you are?"

"I've had a bit more experience at it than you." He grasped her arm and started to open the door. The squeak of a floorboard out in the hall stopped him. "Damnation."

"What is it?" Prudence whispered. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's coming down the hall. We can't go out there now."

"What if he comes in here?"

"Then there will be hell to pay. And it will be all your fault, Prue. A fact which I will not soon forget." Sebastian tugged her across the room toward the massive mahogany wardrobe.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to get you out of sight." He opened one of the ward­robe doors. "Get inside. Hurry."

"Angelstone, wait. I don't think this is such a good idea. There are so many clothes in here. Women's clothes. Good lord, this must be Lady Thornbridge's bedchamber."

"Get in there. Now, for God's sake." He seized her around the waist as if she were a sack of potatoes and tossed her into the ward­robe.

"Good heavens." Prudence nearly suffocated amid a pile of expen­sive silks, satins, and muslins. She flailed about wildly, trying to regain her balance.

"Move over," Sebastian muttered. His hands cupped her derriere as he attempted to shove her farther into the depths of the wardrobe.

"There's no room." Intensely aware of his hands on her bottom, Prudence pushed frantically at the clothing in an effort to shift some of it aside. But the wardrobe was stuffed with expensive garments. "Why don't you hide under the bed?"

"Hell. Maybe you're right." Sebastian released her and backed out of the wardrobe.

He closed the mahogany door, leaving Prudence in tomblike dark­ness. At that instant the bedchamber door was flung open with a resounding crash.

Prudence did not need Lord Thornbridge's outraged roar to know that Sebastian had not had a chance to get beneath the big bed.

"Angelstone. You? Why, you blackhearted son of a bitch, I never thought to find you here, man. I was certain't‘was someone else she would be meeting tonight. Devil take it, I thought… I believed… that is to say, I was told… How dare you, sir?"

"Good evening, Thornbridge." Sebastian's voice was amazingly cool. Incredibly, it was even laced with his customary cynical amuse­ment. He sounded as if he had just encountered Thornbridge in his club rather than in Lady Thornbridge's bedchamber.

"I'll see you dead and in hell for this, Angelstone. Don't think I won't."

"Calm yourself, Thornbridge. I am not here for an assignation with your lady."

"What other reason could you possibly have for being here in her bedchamber? Don't you think I know she's disappeared from the ball­room? She's on her way up here to meet you, isn't she?"

"No."

"Don't try to deny it, you bastard," Thornbridge raged. "You're here to seduce my wife. Right here in my own house, by God. Have you no shame at all, man? No sense of decency or honor?"

"I have no notion of the whereabouts of Lady Thornbridge, sir. But I can assure you, I have no intention of meeting up with her here. See for yourself, she's nowhere in the vicinity."

"I suppose you've got a reasonable explanation for being in her bedchamber?" Thornbridge asked in disbelief.

"I was looking for the new water closet I'd heard you'd had in­stalled."

"Do not think to fob me off with that banbury tale." Thornbridge was clearly infuriated. "The water closet is under the back staircase, exactly where it is in most respectable houses."

"My mistake, sir," Sebastian said politely. "I evidently got some­what disoriented when I left the ballroom. I could have sworn one of the servants said it was on this floor. I believe I may have had a bit too much of your excellent champagne tonight, Thornbridge."

"You're not going to get away with this, Angelstone." Thorn-bridge's voice shook with the intensity of his emotion. "I don't care how good a marksman you are."

"If you're going to call me out, Thornbridge, I suggest you save your breath. In case you haven't heard, I've given up that sort of thing."

"You think I'll accept one of your mocking apologies?" Thorn-bridge's voice rose to a high, desperate pitch. "I'm not some stupid country squire to be taunted the way you're taunting young Mer-ryweather."

"Thornbridge, listen to me for a minute. I can explain everything."