"Regardless of your past association with Masters, Herbert said, "the question everyone is asking tonight is, what happens next? We have been led to believe that you and he had come to a parting of the ways, m'dear. But his presence here this evening indicates otherwise."

Iphiginia ignored the questioning note in his voice. She could hardly provide him with an answer when she did not have one.

Unable to think of anything else to do in the midst of the crisis, Iphiginia determined to do the only thing possible. She stuck to the story she had concocted when she had embarked on her perilous adventure.

"Masters knows very well that our connection is finished unless he chooses to apologize for the quarrel he caused," she said smoothly.

"One never uses the word impossible when one is discussing, Masters," Herbert said. "But in this instance, I think it is permissible. It's safe to say that no one in this room tonight can conceive of the earl apologizing to a lady who has humiliated him' in front of the whole of Society."

Iphiginia was horrified. "But I have done no such thing, Mr. Hoyt."

"No?"

Iphiginia fanned herself rapidly. She felt much too warm. "I merely indicated that he and I were no longer in charity with each other."

"And that it was all his fault."

"Well yes." Iphiginia swallowed. "It certainly was all his fault. But I did not seek to humiliate him in front of his friends."

Herbert gave her an odd look. "Come now, my dear. Let us he honest here. You have hinted that you and Masters had a violent quarrel, one that shattered your close friendship. You cannot tell me that you were not looking for a bit of revenge when you descended on Society. Everyone believes you to be searching for a suitable replacement for him."

"That is not true." Iphiginia cleared her throat. mean, the earl does owe me an apology, but I never intended to, uh, obtain one from him." One did not get apologies from dead men.

"Whatever your intention, you have made certain that everyone understood that you were the one who severe the connection. They believe that you actually had this temerity to give Masters his conge."

It had all been part of her scheme to transform herself into an instant rage in the eyes of the ton, but Iphiginia, could hardly explain that to Herbert. "As to that slight misunderstanding-"

"Misunderstanding?" Herbert gave her a pitying look. "For the past fortnight, Society has not been able to decide if you are the most daring lady in London or simply a candidate for Bedlam."

"I am beginning to wonder myself," Iphiginia muttered under her breath. She must have been mad to get herself into this situation.

"You know that the ton has been waiting on tenterhooks to see how Masters will respond to your notion of vengeance."

"I have told you, Mr. Hoyt, that I have absolutely no interest in vengeance. There was a small tiff between us, that's all. It requires an apology, nothing more."

"So now it's a minor tiff, is it? Heretofore you have termed it a major quarrel."

"These things get enlarged out of all proportion under the influence of gossip, do they not?"

"They certainly do, m'dear." Herbert patted her hand reassuringly "But fear not. I shall remain by your side, ready to assist you if Masters turns unpleasant."

"A reassuring thought."

But it was not reassuring at all. Masters had somehow come back from the dead and there would be the devil to pay.

Herbert's reaction to the situation confirmed everything Iphiginia had learned thus far about the notorious earl. Society thought him deliciously dangerous and unpredictable.

There were rumors of a duel years ago in which he had very nearly killed his opponent. Worse yet, it was whispered that he might have actually been responsible for the murder of his former business associate, Lynton Spalding. It was certainly a fact that after Spalding's death Masters had assumed control of the profitable investment pool his associate had once managed.

Many claimed that the lucrative pool was not the only thing Masters had seized following Spalding's demise. It was said that he had indulged in a long-standing affair with Spalding's widow, Hannah, and that the affair continued to this day even though she had remarried and was now Lady Sands.

No one would ever know the truth about those incidents or any others because Masters never spoke of them. Indeed, he had a rule against discussing his past and another against explaining his actions. He was an intensely private man.

Masters was definitely not the sort who would tolerate humiliation of any kind.

Iphiginia reminded herself that she had been in other precarious situations. Her recent year abroad during which she and her cousin Amelia had toured the ruins of Italy had not been without incident. There had been that rather nasty confrontation with a-street thief in Rome and another equally dangerous encounter with a bandit on the journey to Pompeii.

Still, Iphiginia was only too well aware that she had never dealt with a man whose reputation was of the legendary proportions that characterized the earl's.

The trick was to stay calm and in control, Iphiginia thought. She was dealing with a potentially dangerous adversary, but she knew from her research that Masters was a highly intelligent man. With any luck, he would choose to approach the coming confrontation in a rational, coolheaded manner.

From what she had learned about him, she was almost certain he would not allow his emotions to govern his actions during the next few minutes.

Almost certain. Iphiginia saw Herbert's brow furrow with uneasiness as he watched the crowd. She heard a sharp, distinct crack. She glanced down and saw that she had accidentally snapped the delicate spokes of her fan.

At. that moment the knot of people directly in front of her unraveled. A woman's nervous laugh rang out and then was cut off abruptly. Men edged out of the way. Even Herbert stepped back a pace or two.

Iphiginia suddenly found herself standing quite alone in the middle of the crowded ballroom.

Marcus, Earl of Masters, came to a halt directly in front of Iphiginia. Because she had been looking down at her broken fan, the first thing she noticed about him was his hands.

He was the only man in the room not wearing gloves. In a world where soft, elegant, graceful hands were much admired in a man, Marcus had the hands of a seasoned warrior. Large and powerful, they were the hands of a man who had made his own way in the world.

Iphiginia suddenly recalled that he had come into his title a mere five years earlier. It had been a bankrupt inheritance. He had not been horn into wealth and power. He had created those attributes for himself.

Iphiginia tore her gaze away from the riveting sight of his muscular hands and looked up quickly. Marcus possessed a face that could have been etched on an ancient gold coin. Strong, relentless and hold to the point of being harsh, it was the face of an ancient conqueror.

He watched — her with amber eyes that glittered with a fierce intelligence. His hair was very dark, almost black. There was a flash of silver in the curving swath that was brushed back from his high forehead.

Iphiginia met his brilliant eyes. A shock of deep awareness and recognition flashed through her. Something that had been smoldering deep inside her for weeks suddenly leaped into full flame.

This was the man she had fallen in love with, never dreaming that she might one day meet him. He was exactly as she had imagined.

Iphiginia knew that the crowd was waiting breathlessly for her reaction.

"My lord," Iphiginia whispered so softly that only he could hear. "I am so very glad to see that you are alive."

With a heartfelt prayer that she was correct in her assumption that the earl's curiosity would govern his reaction, she closed her eyes and sank gracefully into a mock swoon.

Marcus caught her before she reached the floor. "Very clever, Mrs. Bright," he muttered for her ears alone. "I wondered how you would extricate yourself from this tangle."

Iphiginia did not dare to open her eyes. She felt herself swept up high against Marcus's chest. His arms were strong and firm. She felt oddly secure and safe in his grasp. The scent of him aroused a curious sensation within her. She was startled by the unexpected, deeply sensual pleasure she felt.

She had never known anything quite like the feelings that were thrumming through her at this moment. She raised her lashes just far enough to see that the frothy skirts of her white silk gown cascaded over the black sleeve of his coat.

Marcus carried her effortlessly across the ballroom floor toward the door.

"Step aside, if you please," he ordered to those in his path. "My very good friend needs fresh air."

The crowd melted away in front of him.

Murmurs of astonishment and speculation followed Iphiginia's grand exit from the crowded ball.

Marcus carried her out of the large mansion. Without pausing, he strode down the wide front steps to where a gleaming black carriage horsed with two black stallions waited.

The door of the carriage was opened by a footman garbed in black livery. Marcus carried Iphiginia into the cab. The door was closed.

The black carriage set off into the midnight streets of London.

CHAPTER TWO

I EXPECT YOU HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS, MY LORD.

"Several, as a matter of fact." Marcus settled into his scat. He watched Iphiginia sit briskly upright, straighten a white plume in her hair, and shake out her skirts.