Looking at him in astonishment, Constance began to laugh. Simon drew his brows together and glowered at her. Although she tried valiantly to suppress her merriment, she was not wholly successful.

"Oh, posh, Simon, don't fly into a temper. It was unkind of me to laugh, and I do apologize, but really, it's too absurd. I begin to fear that you are in your dotage."

In his dotage, was he? Simon could feel his temper rise. Damnation but she was an exasperating woman! Since the first time they had met when she was a beautiful bride many years younger than her husband, they had been at odds. As the years passed they saw each other only infrequently, but no matter how seldom they met, the sparks continued to fly.

Watching the two of them spar, Benjamin had once smiled fondly at his partner and said, "Simon, you should have married her. Perhaps you could have tamed her, for I gave up long ago."

Simon had shuddered inwardly. There was no denying the fact that Constance was a damned attractive woman, but he preferred women who were more serious, women who were respectful of the opinions of men far more knowledgeable than they. Now he must take pains not to antagonize her. With an effort, he smiled stiffly.

"Why is it so absurd, Constance? You forget that I have spent some time with her. The girl has a natural intelligence that even her shabbiness can't hide. Remember that her father was a member of the nobility."

"Really, Simon," Constance cried in exasperation. "You don't know that for certain."

"You only have to watch her closely to know it's true," he exclaimed as he began to pace about the room, trying to convince himself as he convinced her. "She carries herself proudly. She has dignity, intelligence. All of these things speak of good blood. She only needs some polishing to bring it out."

"Polishing!" Constance began to feel faintly alarmed; Simon was in earnest. As infuriating as he could be, she did not want to see him made to look ridiculous.

Rising from her chair, she crossed to him in a swish of ebony silk and placed her hand on his arm. She regarded him levelly, her voice grave. "Not only does she lack any semblance of beauty, but she is undoubtedly woefully ignorant. Why, I doubt that she can even read."

Simon regarded her stonily. "It doesn't matter."

Constance opened her mouth to respond, but Simon would have none of it. "All of that can be easily remedied, Constance. A tutor can be engaged to teach her how to read and instruct her in the rudiments of geography and history."

Indignantly Constance remonstrated. "In faith, Simon, it will take a bit more than teaching her the location of the Baltic Sea and the date of the Battle of Hastings to make her acceptable to society. And if something could be done about her unfortunate appearance, which I heartily doubt, she would still have to be taught to speak properly."

"She speaks beautifully," Simon interrupted. "Much better than would be expected."

"Regardless, Simon, I'm sure her diction would never pass in the drawing room. She needs to know how to manage a household, play the piano, do needlework, dance a quadrille." She ticked off each item on her fingers. "It quite staggers the mind. Even you, Simon, must own that you'd be hard pressed to find a tutor capable of teaching all that. Young women learn so many of these things unconsciously as they watch their mothers."

"Exactly!" Simon exploded triumphantly. Gently placing his hands on her upper arms, he looked down on her small form. "Those are the things only a woman of grace and breeding can teach, a woman such as yourself, Constance."

The spirited widow studied him for several moments as she absorbed his intention and finally declared, "No, Simon, I will not hear of it." She took several steps away and turned her back to him. "I have sometimes found it necessary to disagree with you on business matters, but I have never thought you lacking in common sense. I now begin to wonder."

Constance's voice was adamant, but if the truth be known, her mind was not yet closed on the matter. Although she would barely admit it even to herself, she was a lonely woman. The last few years, during which she had contended with Benjamin's failing health, had been difficult ones for her. Despite her frivolity, she was still an undeniably sensuous woman, and the celibacy that had become her lot was unnatural to her. Her body had begun to rebel; she ached to be held and caressed. She had even thought of taking a lover, but somehow the idea was repugnant to her, for she knew a casual coupling would not still the longings she felt. Of late, it had become more and more difficult for her to sleep. Perhaps if she had something to fill her days and occupy her mind, her nights would once again be peaceful.

She made her voice deliberately casual. "Simon, I must own I am curious. Just what is your plan, and how did you intend to include me?"

Simon wished Constance's back were not turned to him so he could see her face. What was she up to? Casually he walked to the settee opposite her and settled himself, carefully watching her face as he spoke.

"I would like you to take her home with you to Sussex. See to it that she has proper clothing and nourishment, and begin to instruct her in deportment. When you think the time is right, hire a qualified tutor for her academic instruction. I know it will take some time, but I have every confidence that within a year she can be transformed into a socially acceptable young woman."

"A year! Oh, Simon, I fear you overestimate her intelligence and my abilities." Constance was thoughtful for several moments, and Simon did not attempt to rush her. She walked almost aimlessly about the room, stopping once to straighten a vase. Finally she sat next to Simon on the settee.

"Let's assume for a moment that this improbable scheme of yours is successful and you actually manage to make her presentable. What then?"

"I intend to have her presented to society."

Constance's eyes widened. "You intend to present her as his wife?"

"No, of course not. She'll be my…my niece. No, that won't do. I don't want her to be a blood relative." He thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "I have it. We'll say that my brother married a young widow with a small child. She is that child."

"It's absurd, Simon," Constance argued. "You don't even have a brother. You have no assurance you can find Quinn. And, if you do, how do you then propose to convince him to assume his position as a husband?"

"Oh, I'll find him, rest assured of that." The determined set of his jaw told Constance that he would have no scruples at all about using force against Quinn. "As for convincing him-keep in mind, Constance, that it is one thing to abandon a child of the street with no family or protection; it is quite another to abandon a woman of breeding and grace who has been recognized by society. Quinn is a rogue, but even he wouldn't go that far. The two will meet and then I'll arrange for them to simply disappear from sight for several days. The news will leak out that they have eloped-a case of love at first sight. I, of course, will be properly outraged over their scandalous behavior. Everyone will sympathize with me, cluck their tongues, and be secretly delighted to find a couple so much in love they could not wait to be married properly. Within a month the scandal will be forgotten, and Quinn's bachelor existence will be a thing of the past."

"I don't like it, Simon," Constance declared. "Meddling in other people's lives is a dangerous pastime."

"It's the only way," Simon replied, firmly repressing his own doubts. "Quinn's wildness has gone unchecked for too long. He'll destroy himself." Simon was not above taking advantage of Constance's soft heart, and he did so now without a qualm.

"Constance, as a father who loves his son, I need your help. If you have any feeling at all for Quinn, remember that this may be his last chance."

Constance was not fooled by Simon's attempt at playing on her sympathies, but she did not call him to task for it. Instead, she asked the question that was now uppermost in her mind.

"What of the girl, Simon? From all you have said about her, she seems a most independent sort. Perhaps she won't go along with your scheme."

Simon had some doubts about this himself, but it wouldn't do to show weakness now. "Nonsense, Constance. It will be an opportunity the likes of which she has never dreamed possible." He paused, and his blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Besides, if she does protest, I believe I will be able to persuade her."

Constance looked at him keenly; he was holding back. "Simon, you are an unprincipled wretch. Not an hour ago you vowed to that child that you would protect her, and here you are single-mindedly plotting to reunite her with a man she obviously detests."

"Really, Constance, a year of luxury can't help but change her attitude. She'll regain her health and discover the advantages there are to being a Copeland. Do you seriously believe that she will turn her back on Quinn once she has been exposed to our way of life and sees how marriage will benefit her? Of course not."

He took Constance's hands in his and there was no subterfuge in his voice as he implored, "I know I can make this work. Please help me, Constance. Other than keeping Copeland and Peale secure in our two families, there's not much else in it for you. I know that. But you will have my perpetual gratitude. Please, will you help me?"

Her old antagonist was asking for help, and she had to admit that, for one so self-sufficient, he certainly did it splendidly. Raising her hands in a gesture of surrender, she smiled.

"In truth, Simon, you've worn me down, although I am undoubtedly a peagoose to have fallen in with you."