"Ha!" she cried, laughing breathlessly as Cranshawe drew his mount to a halt beside hers. "You must now admit that Jet is the superior horse, Oliver."

"Not so, not so!" he protested, holding up one hand and displaying a wide array of very white teeth as he smiled back at her. "You see, I stopped to pick up your hat, which blew off back at the gate. Had I not played the gentleman, ma'am, I declare the outcome might have been very different."

"Pooh!" she replied. "I should not have stopped to rescue your hat, sir. You must pay the penalty for your foolishness."

"Henry," he said, suddenly serious again and bringing his horse closer to hers, "you are such marvelous company. Indeed, it was unkind of you to marry my cousin before you had given me the chance to try my suit."

Henry rapped him sharply on the knuckles with the handle of her whip and looked around until she saw her groom holding his horse at a discreet distance. "Now you are being foolish," she said. "I don't like it when people become silly and untruthful."

He smiled ruefully. "You will not believe in your own attractions, will you, cousin?" he said, still serious. "But may I be your friend, Henry? I think you may need one. I fear your husband can sometimes be a dry old stick."

"You talk a pile of nonsense," Henry replied matter-of-factly, "but of course we are friends. I must return home, Oliver. Jet will be overtired. Good morning, sir."

Late that same afternoon, when Henry was in the drawing room looking over some dress patterns with Miss Manford, Eversleigh strolled in. Henry brightened. The activity had not been of her choosing and was not holding her interest to any great degree. He seated himself and conversed pleasantly with both women for several minutes. Then he turned to his wife.

"Will you come to the library, Henry?" he asked.

"Certainly," she replied, bouncing readily to her feet.

"Will you excuse us, ma'am?" Eversleigh asked, bowing in the direction of Miss Manford.

The governess blushed and stammered and fluttered her hands in an ecstasy of embarrassment at being so courteously noticed by her employer.

"Sit down, Henry," Eversleigh said when they were in the library, the door closed behind them. Henry sat and gazed inquiringly up at him.

Eversleigh moved to the fireplace and leaned one elbow on the mantel. He regarded his wife through half-closed eyelids. "Henry," he asked, "are you happier with your life in London than you were when I first met you?"

She looked at him in surprise. "I don't remember ever being unhappy," she replied, eyebrows knitting in puzzlement. "I have always thought the social life rather silly, but it can be amusing. Yes, Marius, I am happy."

"I have been pleased to see you become fashionable and to observe that you have acquired a circle of friends," he continued.

"Yes, I never lack for company," she agreed, not at all sure where this conversation was headed.

"Have I given you enough freedom?" he asked. "Have I ever made any unreasonable demands?"

"No, Marius," she said emphatically, "you are a most indulgent husband, I believe. Except when it comes to bonnets," she could not resist adding impishly.

"Quite so," he agreed, his eyes gleaming for a moment. Ile continued to look at her in silence for a while before continuing quietly. "I must now make one demand on you, my love. I do not wish you to associate with Oliver Cranshawe any more than strict courtesy demands."

Henry jerked to her feet. "Did your 'spies report my meeting with him this morning, your Grace?" she asked tartly.

"I do not spy on you, Henry," he replied quietly, "but news always travels faster in the city than if it had wings. I heard that you met and raced with him, yes."

"But why make such a thing of it, Marius?" she asked crossly. "We were in the park. There could hardly be a more public place. How could it be improper?"

"I did not say your meeting him was improper, my love," he pointed out reasonably.

"Then, why?" she asked. "Give me one good reason why I should not be civil to Oliver."

His blue eyes looked steadily into hers. "Say it is because I wish it," he said.

"That is no reason!" she retorted hotly. "I like Oliver. He is friendly and has easy manners. He is fun to be with. I have no intention of pokering up whenever I see him just because you wish it."

"Do you not, Henry?" he asked mildly. "Why is it that I am not in the least surprised?"

Henry opened her mouth and shut it again. Marius really had a disconcerting knack of saying the unexpected and taking the thrust right out of her attack.

"I do request that you humor me on this one matter, my love," he continued.

"Oh, and am I now dismissed, your Grace?" she asked, tossing her head haughtily.

"I almost fear for my life in having to bring up one more matter," he said meekly. "Henry, for my peace of mind, will you refrain from racing in the park? I know you have a splendid seat, my love"-he looked deliberately down to view it-"but I also know that most of your galloping has been done, er, astride your horse. If you can wait until we are in the country, I shall be quite delighted to see you ride in breeches." He allowed his gaze to wander down to the slim legs that were outlined beneath the fall of her high-waisted gown. "But I cannot help feeling that the sidesaddle was designed for more restrained exercise."

Henry stared unflinchingly into her husband's face. Her eyes were blazing, her lips compressed, her teeth clamped together, her cheeks aglow with color. She was infuriated; he had been quite deliberately and unhurriedly undressing her with his lazy eyes.

"And am I dismissed now, your Grace?" she asked through her teeth.

He reached out and took her chin in his hand. Then 'he smiled slowly-yes, actually smiled, she noted with renewed fury. "Yes, my love, you may take your indignation upstairs to your room," he said, and he leaned forward and kissed her very lightly on the nose.

Henry's stomach did an uncomfortable flip-flop-of anger, of course, at the sheer gall of the man. Must he treat her as a child? Could he not see that her anger was real? She swept from the room with as much icy hauteur as she could muster.

**********************************************************************************

It was on the morning following this altercation with her husband that Henry arrived home from her ride to find that she had a visitor waiting in the downstairs salon. The butler did not identify the guest. Henry entered the room, half-expecting to find Oliver Cranshawe and not quite sure whether she should treat him with some reserve out of respect to her husband, or whether to greet him spontaneously as her own inclination dictated. She reacted with a shriek when she saw the room's occupant…

"Giles!" she yelled, hurtling across the room and throwing herself into her brother's arms. "You did not tell me you were coming to town."

He hugged her and grinned down at her. "I say, Henry," he said, gazing admiringly at the smart moss-green riding habit and the jaunty hat with the curled brown feather that she still wore, "you are becoming the grand lady. I hardly recognize my tomboy sister. And this house is rather splendid, is it not?"

She pulled the hat off her head, tossed it carelessly onto a side table, and shook out her auburn curls. "Is term over, Giles?" she asked eagerly. "You did not write to say. Are you staying in town for a while? With Peter? What fun we shall have! You shall come to all the parties and balls with me and we shall laugh at all the foolishness together."

She stopped suddenly, sensing that her brother was not sharing her mood. "What is it, Giles?" she asked.

Ile grinned ruefully and seated himself in a chair close it, to the fireplace. "Term is not over," he said. "I was sent down.

Henry stared at him, openmouthed. "Giles! How simply awful!" she said. "Whatever did you do?"

"Nothing much," he said. "A few of us slipped out of the dormitory after it was locked up, to play cards with a couple of visiting fellows in town. Old Boner got wind of it somehow and had a reception committee waiting for us when we returned."

"You were gambling, Giles!" Henry accused, shocked.

"Nothing to signify," he answered airily. "A fellow has to do something to entertain himself, Henry, believe me. We cannot be expected to study all the time."

"But you know how Papa felt about cards, Giles."

"Yes, and don't you start in on me, Sis," he said hastily, jumping to his feet and pacing the room. "I have had Peter prosing on ever since I came home yesterday. Life is not going to be very cheerful in that household, I can tell you."

"But, Giles, what are you going to do?" Henry asked anxiously. "You know there is not enough money for you to live like an idle gentleman."

"Don't fret," he assured her. "I was not expelled outright. I can go back again next term. But really, Henry, I would like to join a cavalry regiment."

"Does Peter know that?" she asked.

'Oh, yes, but it will not do," he said bitterly. "Nothing but the Church will suit Peter."

Henry brightened. "Perhaps I can persuade Marius to buy you a commission," she suggested, clapping her hands and also jumping to her feet. "He is incredibly generous you know, Giles."

"I am pleased for your sake, Henry," he said. I was no easy in my mind about your marrying him, y'know. I would not have encouraged that wager if 1 had thought there was any chance of your bringing him up to scratch. But, Henry, you are not to ask him for any favors on my behalf. Understand? It's bad enough to know that he has taken on Phil and Penny and Manny and the animals. I would be mortally humiliated if I felt I was to be added to the list. I would feel like a worm, Sis. Promise me?"