"There is so much I need to tell you," he whispered, smoothing her hair away from his forehead.

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open. "What?"

"Tomorrow," he promised, gently drawing up her bodice. It seemed a shame to cover such perfect beauty, but he knew she was still self-conscious about her nakedness. Or at least she would be, once she remembered that she was naked.

She blushed, proving his theory that, in the aftermath of passion, she had forgotten her undressed state. “Why can't you tell me tonight?" she asked.

It was a good question. It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out his true identity and ask her to marry him, but something was holding him back. He was only going to propose marriage once in his life, and he wanted it to be perfect. He had never dreamed he'd find a woman who so totally captured his soul. She deserved roses and diamonds, and him on bended knee.

And he felt he owed it to Agatha to tell her that he was ending his charade before he actually ended it.

"Tomorrow," he promised again. "Tomorrow."

That seemed to satisfy her, for she sighed and sat up. "I suppose we must be getting back."

He shrugged and grinned. "I have no pressing appointments."

That earned him a friendly scowl. “Yes, but I am expected. Lady Danbury spent all week nagging me to attend her masquerade. If I do not make an appearance, I will never hear the end of it." She shot him a wry, sideways sort of look. "She is so close to driving me mad as it is. An endless lecture about my not attending is likely to send me right over the edge."

"Yes," James murmured, "she is rather handy with guilt."

"Why don't you come with me?" Elizabeth asked.

The very worst of ideas. Any number of people might recognize him. "I'd love to," he lied, "but I cannot."

"Why?"

"Er, I'm quite dusty from the road, and-"

"We'll brush you off."

"I have no costume."

"Bah! Half the men refuse to wear costumes. I'm certain we can find you a mask."

In desperation, he blurted out, "I simply cannot mix among people in my current state."

That caused her to snap her mouth shut on whatever reply she'd been forming. After several seconds of awkward silence, she finally asked, "What state do you mean?''

James groaned. Had no one explained the workings of men and women to her? Probably not. Her mother had died when she was only eighteen, and he found it difficult to imagine his aunt taking on the delicate task. He looked over at Elizabeth. Her eyes were expectant. "I don't suppose you'll let me tell you that I'd like to jump in a lake and leave it at that," he said.

She shook her head.

"I didn't think so," he muttered.

"You didn't… ah…"

He jumped on her words. "Exactly! I didn't."

"The problem," she said, not meeting his eyes, "is that I'm not precisely certain what you didn't do."

"I'll show you later," he promised. "God help me, if I don't show you later, I'll be dead before the month is out."

"A whole month?"

A month? Was he insane? He was going to have to get a special license. "A week. Definitely a week."

"I see."

"No, you don't. But you will."

Elizabeth coughed and blushed. "Whatever it is you're talking about," she mumbled, "I have a feeling it's rather naughty."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "You're still a virgin, Elizabeth. And I'm frustrated as hell."

"Oh! I…" She smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

"I'd tell you it was no trouble at all," he said, taking her arm, "except that would be a blatant lie."

"And I suppose," she added mischievously, "that you would also be lying if you said it was your pleasure."

"That would be a huge lie. Of proportions immense."

She laughed.

"If you don't start according me the proper respect," he muttered, "I may have to toss you in the lake along with me."

"Surely you can take a bit of teasing."

"I rather think I've taken all the teasing my body can stand already this evening."

She let out another peal of giggles. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I don't mean to laugh at you, but-"

"Yes, you do." He tried not to grin, but he wasn't successful.

"All right, yes, I do, but it's only because^-" She stopped walking and reached up to touch his beloved face. "It's only because you make me so happy and free. I cannot remember the last time I felt so able to simply laugh."

"What about when you're with your family?" he asked. "I know you adore them."

"I do. But even when we are laughing and joking and having the loveliest of times, there is always a cloud hanging over me, constantly reminding me that it all could be taken away. That it all would be taken away the moment I found myself unable to support them."

"You will never have to worry about that again," he said, his voice a fierce vow. "Never."

"Oh, James," she said wistfully. "You're very sweet to say so, but I don't see how you can-"

"You'll have to trust me," he interrupted. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Besides, I thought you said that when you were with me that pesky gray cloud disappeared."

"When I'm with you I forget about my worries, but that doesn't mean they're gone."

He patted her hand. “I may surprise you yet, Elizabeth Hotchkiss."

They walked toward the house in companionable silence. As they drew near, the sounds of the party grew louder-music, mixed with chatter, and the occasional roar of raucous laughter.

"It sounds like quite a crush," Elizabeth commented.

"Lady Danbury would accept no less," James replied. He glanced at the stately stone mansion, which had come into view. Guests had spilled out onto the lawn, and he knew he was going to have to make his exit immediately. "Elizabeth," he said, "I must leave now, but I will call upon you tomorrow."

"No, please let's stay." She smiled up at him, her dark blue eyes heartbreakingly huge. "We've never danced." "I promise you that we shall." He kept his eye on the closest members of the crowd. He didn't see anyone he knew, but one could never be too careful. "I'll find you a mask, if that's your worry." "No, Elizabeth, I just can't. You must accept that." She frowned. "I don't see why you must-" "It's simply the way it must be. I- Ooof!" Something very large and padded crashed into James's back. Clearly they were not quite as far from the crowds as he'd thought. He turned around to dress down the clumsy partygoer-

And found himself staring straight into the aquamarine eyes of Caroline Ravenscroft.


* * *

Elizabeth watched the scene that unfolded with an increasing sense of disbelief and horror.

"James?" Caroline asked, her eyes growing round with delight. "Oh, James! It's so lovely to see you!"

Elizabeth's eyes flew from James to Caroline, trying to figure out how these two people knew each other. If Caroline knew James, surely she would have known he was the estate manager Elizabeth had mentioned earlier that evening.

"Caroline," James responded, his voice impossibly tight.

Caroline tried to throw her arms around him, but her pumpkin costume rendered hugs difficult. "Where have you been?" she demanded. "Blake and I are most displeased. He has been trying to reach you for- Elizabeth?"

James froze. "How do you know Elizabeth?" he asked, his words slow and careful.

"We met this evening," Caroline replied, giving him a dismissive wave before turning to her new best friend. "Elizabeth, I have been looking for you all night. Where did you disappear to? And how do you know James?"

"I-I-" Elizabeth couldn't get the words out, couldn't possibly verbalize what was becoming increasingly obvious.

"When did you meet Elizabeth?" Caroline flipped around to face James, her light brown braid clipping him in the shoulder. “I told her about you this afternoon and she said she didn't know you."

"You told me about him?" Elizabeth whispered. "No, you didn't. You didn't mention James. The only person you told me about was-''

"James," Caroline cut in. "The Marquis of Riverdale."

"No," Elizabeth said in a shaky voice, her mind suddenly filled with images of a little red book and endless edicts. HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS. No, it was impossible. "This isn't-"

Caroline turned to James. "James?" Her eyes grew wide as she realized that she had unwittingly destroyed a secret. "Oh, no. I'm sorry. I never dreamed you would be working in disguise here at Danbury House. You told me you were through with all that."

"With all what?" Elizabeth asked, her voice slightly shrill.

"This isn't about the War Office," James bit off.

"What, then?" Caroline asked.

"The Marquis of Riverdale?" Elizabeth echoed. "You're a marquis?"

"Elizabeth," James said, all but ignoring Caroline. "Give me a moment to explain."

A marquis. James was a marquis. And he must have been laughing at her for weeks. "You bastard," she hissed. And then, using every boxing lesson he'd ever given her, plus quite a bit of sheer instinct, she drew back her right arm and swung.

James stumbled. Caroline shrieked. Elizabeth stalked away.

"Elizabeth!" James boomed, striding after her. "Get back here this instant. You will listen to me."

His hand closed around her elbow. "Let go of me!" she cried out.

"Not until you listen to me."

"Oh, you must have had so much fun with me," she choked out. "So much fun pretending to teach me how to marry a marquis. You bastard. You filthy bastard."

He nearly flinched at the venom in her voice. "Elizabeth, I never once-"

"Did you laugh about me with your friends? Did you laugh about the poor little lady's companion who thought she might be able to marry a marquis?''

"Elizabeth, I had my reasons for keeping my identity a secret. You're jumping to conclusions."