Hester was an old friend of Prudence's family. She and her late husband had lived in an ancient, tumbledown manor house that was located not far from the Merryweather farm. The Pembroke ghost, which was almost as famous as the missing Pembroke jewels, had provided Prudence with her first real experience in the investigation of spectral phenomena.

"I'm asking about Angelstone because Trevor has taken this ridic­ulous notion into his head that I must be very careful around the earl," Prudence explained. "He seems to think the man is out to se­duce me. Utter nonsense, of course, but Trevor is very agitated about it."

"As well he should be, I suppose. The earl is, as I said, most interesting, but there is no indication that he is casting about for a wife as yet. Therefore, we must assume that when he pays attention to a young lady, he has other things on his mind."

"He might simply wish to converse with her about matters of mu­tual intellectual interest," Prudence suggested hopefully.

"Not likely." Hester put down her teacup, her expression thought­ful. "One of the reasons Angelstone is so completely fascinating is precisely because he flouts Society's rules. Treats the Social World with contempt, for the most part, just as it once treated his parents."

"But you said he's invited to all the best balls and soirees."

"Certainly. There is nothing Society thrives on more than being treated with contempt by a titled gentleman who has money to burn and more than a hint of danger about him."

"I see. How very odd."

"Not at all. Only recall how Society has doted on Byron. Angel­stone is very shrewd. He knows how to stay just this side of the bound­ary of what is acceptable. And since he assumed the title, every host­ess in Town vies to lure him with an invitation to one of her affairs."

"He is certainly an interesting man," Prudence said.

"Yes, indeed." Hester turned thoughtful. "And one of the most interesting things about him is why he has not used the power he acquired along with the title to crush his relatives."

Prudence frowned. "Crush them?"

"It would be easy enough for him to do. He controls a fortune, after all. And he has great social power. Everyone assumes the reason he has not gotten his relatives banished from Society is simply that it amuses him to play cat-and-mouse games with them."

"I cannot believe he would deliberately hurt his family. I rather liked him," Prudence ventured.

"I'm sure he can be charming when he chooses. And he was no doubt more than charming when he asked you to dance with him. The thing is, Prue, Trevor is absolutely correct to be concerned about any connection between you and the earl. Angelstone is said to amuse himself in some rather odd ways. He might find it entertaining to ruin this Season's most interesting Original."

Prudence bit her lip. "Come, now, madam. I am five-and-twenty, after all. A bit past the age of ruination."

"Not yet, my dear. Not yet. And if there is anything Society loves more than a Fallen Angel, it's a good, juicy scandal. You are the talk of the Town at the moment. Every eye is upon you. If your name is linked to Angelstone's, there will be no end to the gossip."

Prudence took another sip of tea. "The only reason I'm the center of attention is because of that business with the Pembroke family treasure."

"Of course, my dear." Hester beamed with delight and gave an affectionate pat to the diamond pendant around her throat. It had been part of the cache Prudence had discovered. "Everyone knows you found my jewels when you investigated the Pembroke ghost. The ton is quite enthralled with the tale."

Prudence wrinkled her nose. "Too bad I did not locate the Pem­broke family ghost while I was at it. Encountering evidence of genuine spectral phenomena would have been far more interesting than dis­covering a bunch of jewels."

"But not nearly as useful, Prue. Not nearly as useful. You have changed my life, my dear, and I do not know how I can ever repay you."

"You know very well you have more than repaid me by bringing Trevor and me to London for a visit. Since the death of our parents, Trevor has been extremely restless in the country. Here in Town he is gaining experience in the ways of the world and he is having a wonder­ful time."

"It was the very least I could do to thank you," Hester said. "I know how concerned you were about Trevor. But I would love to do so much more for you, my dear." She frowned at Prudence's demure, unfashionable muslin frock. "I do wish you would allow me to buy you a new wardrobe."

"Now, Hester, we have been through this before. I am not about to allow you to buy me a trunkful of gowns that I will never be able to wear when I go home to Dorset. It would be a complete waste."

Hester sighed. "The thing is, Prue, now that you have the attention of the ton, it seems only proper that you should dress in the first stare of fashion. I cannot comprehend why you do not take more of an interest in your clothes. You would look lovely in lavender."

The door of the drawing room opened before Prudence could think of a suitable reply.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

Prudence looked up as Trevor made his entrance into the room with the swaggering, elaborately casual style he had painstakingly learned from his newfound friends.

Everything Trevor did lately was done with that peculiar style. It was getting a bit wearing, Prudence decided.

Her younger brother had turned overnight into a young blood of the ton. From the top of his intricately tied cravat to his padded coat, striped waistcoat, and snug pantaloons, Trevor was the very glass of fashion. He had taken to carrying a cane and had an enormous num­ber of decorative seals dangling from the fob of his watch.

As irritating as some of his new mannerisms could be on occasion, Prudence was nevertheless very fond of Trevor. She told herself he was merely a high-spirited young man who would do very well once he had settled down a bit and matured.

Her younger brother was also a fine-looking young man, she thought proudly. He had no real need of the padding in his jacket. His hair was the same honey-colored shade as hers was. Trevor had inher­ited their mother's excellent blue eyes, rather than their father's green ones. He had no need of spectacles, although he had experimented briefly with a monocle last week. He had dropped the affectation when he discovered it was too difficult to keep the glass in place.

Prudence worried sometimes that Trevor would not want to return to the quiet life of a country squire after having been introduced to the pleasures of Town.

And, if she were honest with herself, Prudence thought, she had to admit that Trevor was not the only one who might be a bit bored in the country now. She had found life in London far more exciting and more intriguing than she had expected.

It was not the endless round of balls and soirees that fascinated her, but the endless array of bookshops, museums, and the like. Here in Town she could research spectral phenomena far more thoroughly than she could at home. She also stood a much greater chance of encountering people who would need her special investigation skills.

"Hello, Trevor," Prudence said.

"Good afternoon." Hester picked up the pot. "Will you have tea?"

"With pleasure." Trevor came forward eagerly. "Wait until I tell you my news."

"We are all ears, dear," Hester murmured.

"You are not going to believe this." Trevor preened as he accepted the cup and saucer. "But I, Trevor Merryweather, wrung an apology out of the devil himself, by God."

Hester blinked. "Did you really?"

"I certainly did." Trevor turned proudly to Prudence. "Angelstone won't bother you again, Prue. You may depend upon it. Made the bastard apologize for insulting you. Whole world knows it, too. He had one of his seconds convey his apologies to me right there in my club where all my friends could hear him."

Prudence glared at Trevor as he sprawled in one of Hester's deli­cate satinwood chairs. "For the last time, Trevor, I was not insulted by Angelstone. He behaved himself quite properly. There was absolutely nothing about his manner on the dance floor that gave offense."

"Man's got a reputation." Trevor helped himself to a small cake off the tea tray. "You wouldn't know about it, of course. Not the sort of thing a lady should know about. Point is, he certainly ain't the type you want hanging about. Everybody agrees he don't have anything respectable in mind when he starts paying attention to a female."

"For goodness' sake," Prue said. "Name me one female Angel­stone is said to have ruined. Just one."

Trevor scowled. "Good lord. Surely you don't expect me to discuss that sort of gossip with you."

"Yes, I do. If I'm being warned off, I want to know precisely why. Who was his last innocent victim?"

"If he ain't had a victim this Season it's only because respectable families are keeping their daughters out of his reach."

"I want a name," Prue said evenly.

Trevor glowered at her and then appealed to Hester for support. "I've a hunch you're more conversant with that sort of tale than I am. Give Prue a name. Perhaps it will convince her she's playing with fire when she accepts a dance with Angelstone."

"A name?" Hester tapped her chin with her forefinger and studied the ceiling for a moment. "Well, his name was linked with that of Lady Charlesworthy at one time, I understand, but that was last Season and the lady is a rather notorious widow in her own right. I'm not sure she counts as an innocent victim, if you see what I mean. In any event, I'm told that affair ended some time ago."