"Any number of people," Marcus replied easily. "My man of affairs, for example. My servants."

"And the men with whom you played whist shortly before you left London?" Iphiginia asked blandly.

"Hell and damnation." Marcus experienced a grudging sense of admiration. The lady was clever, indeed. "You really did make a thorough study of me, did you not?"

"Yes, sir, I did. I am very good at research. Among the things I discovered almost immediately was that-you had played cards with Lartmore, Darrow, Pettigrew, and Judson at one of your clubs the day before you left London."

"And Lady Guthrie confirmed that they had also played a few hands with her late husband."

"Not only that," Iphiginia said with great satisfaction, "but they had played cards quite regularly with him for nearly twenty years before he died, sir. That number is important because my aunt's great secret dates back eighteen years.»

Marcus smiled slowly. "Brilliant, Mrs. Bright. Absolutely brilliant. You have concocted a truly amazing tale to explain your astonishing behavior. I am consumed with admiration for your inventiveness and originality."

Her face fell. "You believe that I have invented the entire thing?"

"Yes, madam, I do." Marcus held up a hand. "But don't let that stop you. I assure you, I am enjoying the play to the utmost. You are a captivating actress of exceptional talent. I feel privileged to have a minor role in the performance."

Confusion and a deep wariness flickered in her eyes. "You do not believe me, but you are not angry?"

"To he perfectly truthful, I'm not, yet certain just how I feel about the entire affair. I am still pondering the matter."

"I see," she muttered. "Do you generally take a long time to consider matters before you decide how you feel about them?"

He smiled at the note of asperity in her voice. "You sound like a governess demanding a response from a slow pupil. The answer is that I have a rule against altering a decision once I have made it. But the corollary to that rule is that I gather 0 the facts first before making my decision."

She brightened. "I am well aware of your famous rules, sir. May I take it that you are still gathering the facts in this instance?" "Why not?" "That is a great relief, sir." She gave him her shatteringly brilliant smile. "I have faith in your intellectual nature. I know that once you realize that I am telling the truth, you will he only too happy to assist me in my efforts to discover the blackmailers

Marcus felt the carriage rumble to a halt. "Rest assured, Mrs. Bright, I shall take pleasure in learning everything there is to know about this entire situation."

"Of course." She seemed blithely unconcerned now. "That is your nature."

"Do you know," Marcus observed as his footman opened the carriage door, "I do, not believe that anyone has ever before set out to study my nature. Did you find the task interesting?"

"Oh, yes, my lord." Her eyes glowed. as she allowed herself to he assisted down onto the pavement. "It was every bit as fascinating as the ruins of Pompeii."

"Nice to know I can hold my own with a classical ruin." Marcus got out of the carriage and took her arm. He glanced up at Dinks. "I shall be a while."

Dinks, who had been with him for years, nodded with an air of cheerful complacency. "Aye, m'lord. We'll he waitin' for ye."

Iphiginia glanced sharply at Marcus as he walked her up the steps of Number Five, Morning Rose Square. "What did you mean by that? You won't be but a moment.»

"Come, now, my dear. Surely you intend to invite me inside for a brandy?" Marcus glanced with approval at the new gas lamps that had been installed in front of each town house on the street.

"Inside?" Iphiginia's voice rose in astonishment. "Do not be ridiculous, sir. I have no intention of allowing you into the house at this hour."

"We have much to discuss, Mrs. Bright, and I can think of no more convenient time or place for our conversation." Marcus raised his hand to give the brass knocker a sharp rap.

"No, wait, do not knock," Iphiginia said hurriedly. "I have instructed my housekeeper not to wait up for me. I have my key in my reticule."

Marcus held out his hand for the key. She hesitated and then handed it to him. He took it without a word and opened the door.

Iphiginia stepped quickly ahead of him into the dark hall. She grabbed a candle that had been left on a nearby table, lit it quickly, and swung around to confront him. "Sir, I really do not think that you should come inside."

He deliberately put one booted foot over the threshold and smiled. "If you wish your illusion to continue to withstand Society's scrutiny," he said very softly, "then I fear you must allow me to stay here for a time tonight. It is expected, you see."

"Expected?" She stared at him with dawning hope. "Do you mean that you're willing to allow me to continue posing as your mistress?"

"Why not?" Marcus moved through the door and closed it with a solid thud. "You can hardly carry out your inquiries if your identity is revealed at this point. If you are unmasked, you will be cast out of Society and there will be no way to reenter it."

"Very true. Sir, I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I realize that you do not yet believe my explanations. I want you to know that I find your open-minded consideration of the situation extremely admirable. It confirms everything I have learned about you."

"It's quite all right, Mrs. Bright. I am willing to go along with the masquerade for a while, at least until I have satisfied all of my questions. Is this your library?" Marcus walked through the doorway on the left side of the hall.

"Yes, it is." Iphiginia picked up her skirts and hastened after him. "My lord, this is really most generous of you.

"I know." Marcus could see nothing but dark, looming shapes. He aimed for what he assumed was the fireplace.

"As you are apparently not one of the blackmailer's victims after all, you really do not have any obligation to assist me in my inquiries."

"I ceased doing anything out of a sense of obligation years ago. I found it rather pointless. However, occasionally I do things because I am cursed with a deep sense of curiosity about the oddest… Damnation." Marcus winced as his booted toe rammed a large, unyielding object.

"Do be careful, my lord." Iphiginia held her candle aloft. "This room is a bit crowded at the moment."

"So I see." The taper threw dancing shadows across a chamber full of broken statuary, sepulchral masks, strangely designed urns, and huge vases.

The furniture was even more bizarre. Chairs with clawed feet and griffin-headed arms were arranged near the windows. A massive Grecian-style sofa finished in green velvet and gold fringe sat grandly in front of the fireplace. It looked sensual and pagan in the candlelight. The tables placed on either side of the sofa were decorated with lions' heads and sphinxes.

"I told you that my cousin and I have only recently returned from a most educational tour of the Continent," Iphiginia said. "I purchased a great many antiquities during our journey."

Marcus peered down at the jagged chunk of marble which had marred the glossy polish on the toe of his black Hessian boot. here was just enough light from Iphiginia's candle to see that it was a portion of a statue of some mythical winged beast. "What the devil is this?"

"I bought it in a shop in Rome." Iphiginia set the candle down on her desk. There was a scratching sound as she fit a lamp. "Fascinating, is it not? I made several other equally interesting purchases at the same shop. I'm especially fond of this Roman centurion."

The centurion, Marcus saw, was nude, except for his helmet, sword, and shield.

"It looks as though you've transported a complete archaeological ruin into your library," Marcus said.

"Yes, I am rather pleased with the effect." Iphiginia glanced around with satisfaction. She drew her gloved fingertips lovingly along the arm of the naked centurion. "It both excites the senses and stimulates the intellectual faculties at the same time. Don't you agree?"

Marcus could not take his eyes off her fingers as they glided over marble muscles. He felt an instant and dramatic effect on his already stirring manhood, the centurion, he reflected, be was not made of stone.

"What do you intend to do with all of this, Mrs. Bright?"

She leaned pensively against the statue, one elbow propped on the warrior's shoulder. She rested her chin on the heel of her hand. "I'm not entirely certain yet. At the moment I am merely studying these items and making sketches."

"Studying them?" Marcus watched her skins drift over the statue's hare thigh. He could almost feel the silk on his own skin.

"My goal is to produce a pattern book of ancient motifs and designs that can be used as a guide to decorate both the interior and exterior of houses," she confided. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Oblivious to the effect she was having on Marcus, she nestled one hip intimately against the statue.

"I see." An almost overpowering restlessness came over Marcus. In a vain attempt to alleviate it, he untied his cravat and inhaled deeply to clear his head.

He promptly caught a whiff of Iphiginia's rose scented perfume and his senses became more clouded than ever.

"So much of what passes for accurate archaeological design these days is quite misguided and frequently wrong," she said.

"I've noticed." "Have you?" She gave him a pleased look. "Yes." His gaze slid over the gentle swell of Iphiginia's thigh where it fit warmly against the cold marble of the statue. He had not been pushed this close to the edge of his control in years.