"I did not mean to offend you, madam." Herbert looked thoroughly abashed. He cast an embarrassed glance around at the other couples and then took Iphiginia's arm. He hastily escorted her off the floor. "I pray that you will forgive me."

"Of course."

"I spoke out of turn. But I did so only because I am so deeply concerned about you."

"I know, Herbert." She patted his arm. "But I am not a young innocent. I am a woman of the world and I am quite capable of looking after myself."

"If you say so." Herbert withdrew his handkerchief again and dabbed at the beads of sweat on his brow. "You're a brave female, m'dear. You will always have my greatest admiration. Please remember that if there is ever any way in which I can be of service, you must not hesitate to cab upon me."

"Thank you, Herbert." She smiled at him. "Pray, excuse me. I must have a word with someone who just came in."

"Yes, yes, of course."

Herbert stuffed the crumpled handkerchief back into his pocket. Iphiginia could feel his wistful gaze resting on her as she made her way across the crowded room.

She knew that Herbert meant to he kind and that her aunt wanted to protect her from heartache, but neither of them knew the real truth. Iphiginia did not want to even attempt to explain the bizarre situation in which she found herself.

Curious eyes, Most politely averted or hidden behind discreetly held fans, watched her as she headed toward the French doors. Iphiginia knew that the gossip abut Masters's forthcoming engagement had crested into a tidal wave that had inundated Society.

Everyone was talking about her once more, just a, they had a few weeks ago when she had descended on the Polite World. But this time they were speculating on her fate.

Iphiginia knew that no one expected Marcus to give up his mistress, It was accepted by one and all that he could and would have both a Paramour and a suitable wife.

The real question as far as the Polite World was concerned was whether or not his unpredictable, independent mistress would abandon him rather than share him with a bride.

Society was titillated by the current developments, but it was not shocked. The only thing that could really stun the haute monde would be to discover that the woman Masters intended to wed was his mistress.

The ton would be even more astounded to learn that she had no intention of marrying him.

But no one was even speculating on such bizarre possibilities because, as usual, Society was two steps behind the notorious Earl of Masters.

Iphiginia slipped through the open doors and escaped to the cool darkness of the terrace. A handful,f other People had drifted outside. They glanced at her as she emerged from the ballroom.

Iphiginia ignored the interested gazes and sought the seclusion of the far come, of the terrace. She needed a few moments Of privacy. It had been a trying day and even more trying evening.

The sound of a footstep behind her and the clearing of a masculine throat told Iphiginia that she no longer had this section of the terrace to herself.

"Mrs. Bright?" Bennet said in a very low voice.

Iphiginia turned slowly to face him. She summoned a smile. "Good evening, Mr. Cloud."

"I saw you come out here." Bennet glanced awkwardly toward the brilliantly lit ballroom. Then he looked back at her. He squared his shoulders and took a resolute breath. The expression on his face was one of stem determination.

"You remind me of your brother when you do that," Iphiginia said dryly.

Bennet scowled. "When I do what?" "Never mind. What was it you wanted?" "Mrs. Bright, I will he blunt. The whole world is saying that my brother intends to marry a respectable young lady of the ton. But I know the truth."

"You do?" "He told me that it is you he plans to wed," Bennet blurted. "It is a crazed notion, but I know him well and I fear that it is not beyond the realm of possibility that he would do something so… so…"

"So what?" "So impossible as to wed a most improper female simply because he has taken a fancy to do so. He has no regard for Society's opinion or for propriety or tradition."

Iphiginia studied Bennet's earnest features. "I have heard that your brother has withdrawn his objection to a marriage between you and Juliana Dorchester."

"What in blazes has that got to do with anything?" "Masters told me that he has many grave concerns about an alliance between you and Miss Dorchester. Yet he concluded that you were no longer a boy in need of his guidance. He feels that you are a mature man who has the right to make his own decisions."

"He should feel that way. I am a mature man." Bennet's gloved hands clenched and unclenched. "But my own plans for marriage have nothing to do with this discussion."

"Against his better judgment but out of respect for you, your brother has elected to stay out of your affairs. Don't you owe him the same courtesy?"

"Damnation, this is an entirely different matter. Miss Dorchester is a perfectly respectable young lady without a single blemish on her reputation. An innocent. She is above reproach. Marcus had no right to raise any objections to my intention to ask for her hand."

"You think not?" "No offense, madam, but you are hardly in the same category as Juliana Dorchester. You are a woman of the world, if you do not mind my stating the obvious."

"Your brother is a man of the world." "Yes, he is, but he is certainly not acting as though he were," Bennet retorted. "He appears to he smitten by you, Mrs. Bright. I vow, you have put some sort of spell upon him."

"What on earth makes you say that?" "Why else would he violate his most closely held rule? He once vowed never to remarry. I confess, I had hoped he would change his mind. But I never dreamed he would do something so mad as to marry his mistress."

That was too much. Iphiginia was at the end of her tether. She had been under a strain for too long and now something inside her snapped.

"I am sick of bearing about Masters and his rules," she said forcefully. "He is not the only one who has chosen to live by his own rules. I happen to possess one or two myself."

"One can only speculate about the sort of rules a woman such as yourself would choose to honor. Do you have one which states that you will take only wealthy men as paramours?"

"I do not need a wealthy man to take care of me. In case you have not paid attention, Bennet, I control a rather handsome fortune of my own." "Maybe it's the title you're after." "I assure you, gaining a title is the least of my concerns. I value my freedom and my rights as an independent widow far too highly to surrender them for a mere title.»

"Then just what sort of rules do you abide by, Mrs. Bright?"

"There is only one that need concern you. I have an ironclad rule which states that I will never, ever marry a man who does not love me. And as your brother has never once said that he loves me, it does not require any great intellect to perceive that Masters is perfectly safe from me."

Bennet stared at her. "Mrs. Bright-" "Begone, sir. I hate discussions of rules. I wish to be left alone." Iphiginia spun around on her heel and rushed toward the steps that led down into the garden.

She ran straight into Marcus, who had just emerged from behind a hedge.

"Ooph." Iphiginia staggered and lost her balance as she crashed against his broad chest.

Marcus steadied her while he looked at his brother. "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Iphiginia's head came up quickly when she beard the dangerous edge of steel in his voice. " 'Tis nothing of any great import, sir. Your brother was merely concerned for your future well-being, just as you are concerned for his."

"My brother will keep his opinions on the subject to himself," Marcus said. "Is that understood, Bennet?"

"She will make a fool of you, if you allow her to do so, " Bennet said savagely. "She is infinitely more clever than Nora. Can you not see that?"

"Any idiot can see it. It's one of the reasons I intend to wed her," Marcus said. "I cannot abide brainless females."

"You cannot possibly expect to turn her into a countess, Marcus. She would he a disgrace to the title."

In spite of her desire to put an end to the dreadful scene, Iphiginia took umbrage at that remark. "Now hold on one moment here, Mr. Cloud. Your brother was a farmer, a man who worked with his hands for years before he came into the earldom. He has managed very nicely with a title. I assure you I would have no trouble at all playing the part of a countess, if I so chose."

"Quite right," Marcus murmured. "This is ridiculous," Bennet snapped. "You are the one who is behaving in a ridiculous fashion," Marcus said. "Now take yourself off before I lose my temper."

"This is beyond anything. I can only pray that you told me the truth about your own rules, Mrs. Bright, and that you will have the decency to get out of my brother's life." Bennet whirled and stalked back toward the ballroom.

"You go too far, brother." Marcus made to ease Iphiginia out of his path. She panicked and seized hold of the lapels of his finely cut coat.

"Marcus, no. I do not want you and your brother quarreling because of me."

"Do not concern yourself, my dear. I shall deal with Bennet."

"Bloody bell, Marcus, I vow, if you go after him, I shall leave Town this very night."

He paused, frowning. "What are you saying?" "I mean it, my lord. I will not allow you to stage a scene with Bennet because of me. He was doing no more than what you tried to do when you learned that he wished to marry Miss Dorchester. He was attempting to protect you.»