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hand into the crook of his elbow and turned her to the house. All but quivering, Antonia had perforce to acquiesce; to her relief, he strolled in companionable silence, making no reference by word or deed to their game by the pool.
    He halted by the steps to the terrace and lifted her hand from his sleeve, holding it and her gaze for an instant before releasing her. “I’ll see you at dinner.” With a gentle smile and a nod, he strode away.
    Antonia watched him go. Slowly, a warm flush of triumph permeated her being, driving out the skittering panic of moments before.
    She had achieved her object. However Philip now viewed her, it was not as a young friend of the family.
     
    “Goodnight, then.” With a nod and a smile, Geoffrey left the billiard room to his host and Hugo, having unexpectedly taken revenge on Hugo for an earlier defeat.
    “Quick learner,” Hugo muttered in defense of his skills.
    “Mannerings are,” Philip replied, chalking a cue. The rest of the household had retired, Antonia somewhat breathlessly assuring him that she intended getting an early start on the preparations for the fête. A smile in his eyes, Philip waited while Hugo racked the balls, then he broke.
    “Actually,” Hugo said, as he watched Philip move about the table, “I’ve been trying to catch you for a quiet word all day.”
    “Oh?” Philip glanced up from his shot. “What about?”
    Hugo waited until he had pocketed the ball before answering. “I’ve decided to return to town tomorrow.”
    Philip straightened, his question in his eyes.
    Hugo grimaced and pulled at his ear. “This fête, y’know. All very well for you in the circumstances—you’ll haveMiss Mannering to hide behind. But who’s to shield me?” Palms raised in appeal, Hugo shuddered. “All these earnest young misses—your step mama’s been listing their best features. Having succeeded with you, I rather think she’s considering fixing her sights on me. Which definitely won’t do.”
    Philip stilled. “Succeeded?”
    “Well,” Hugo said, “it was pretty obvious from the start. Particularly the way her ladyship always clung to yours truly. I was almost in danger of thinking myself a wit until the penny dropped. Perfectly understandable, of course—what with Miss Mannering being an old family friend and you being thirty-four and the last in line and so on.”
    Slowly, Philip leaned over the table and lined up his next shot. “Indeed.”
    “Mind,” Hugo added. “If I couldn’t see your reasoning—Miss Mannering being well in the way of being a peach—I wouldn’t have thought you’d stand it—being hunted in your own house.”
    Sighting along his cue, Philip smelt again the teasing scent of lavender, heard the scrunch of gravel beneath slippered feet, saw again Antonia’s airily innocent expression as she ingenuously led him along the garden path.
    His shot went awry. Expression impassive, he straightened and stepped back.
    Hugo studied the table. “Odd of you to miss that.”
    “Indeed.” Philip’s gaze was unfocused. “I was distracted.”

Chapter Four
    T he next morning, Antonia awoke with the larks. By nine o’clock, she had already spoken with the cook and Mrs Hobbs, the housekeeper, and seen the head-gardener, old Mr Potts, about flowers for the morrow. She was turning away from a conference with Fenton on which of the indoor tables should be used on the terrace when Philip strode into the hall.
    He saw Antonia and immediately changed course, his heels ringing on the black and white tiles. He halted directly before her.
    “You didn’t come riding.”
    Staring up into storm-clouded eyes, Antonia felt her own widen. “I did mention that there was a great deal to do.”
    His jaw firming, Philip cast a jaundiced eye over the figures scurrying about his hall. “Ah yes.” His quirt struck the white top of one boot. “The fête. ”
    “Indeed. We’re going to be terribly busy all day.”
    He swung back to Antonia, his gaze