Quick, Amanda

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artistic sensibilities. She would have had a very hard time behaving in a manner suited to
    the wife of a staid country squire.
    Her sister, on the other hand, was entirely comfortable with the strictures of life back in Deepford.
    Corina even seemed to like her new in-laws.
    "Iphiginia?"
    Iphiginia surfaced from her brief reverie. "Yes?"
    "I am very concerned about this new development." "Whatever do you mean?"
    "This situation is dangerous."
    "Nonsense. We shall find the blackmailer and all will be well."
    "I am not talking about the blackmail situation." Amelia gave her a searching glance. "I am talking about
    your personal situation. This business of masquerading as a notorious widow entails far too much risk.
    Look at what happened in here tonight."
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    Iphiginia's cheeks burned. "Really, Amelia. It was just a kiss."
    Amelia watched her with worried eyes. "For your own sake, I pray you will take great care not to
    indulge in any more such reckless embraces. Masters is not some harmless country squire whom you can
    control with a word or a frown. He is a powerful man, accustomed to getting what he wants."
    "He is a gentleman," Iphiginia protested.
    "Men of his stamp seize what they desire and do not care whom they hurt in the process."
    Iphiginia could think of nothing to say in response. She was only too well aware that Amelia spoke from
    painful experience.
    In the perilous days ahead, she must bear in mind that she was not really Mrs. Bright, the exciting, exotic
    widow, mysterious paramour of the most notorious earl in the ton.
    She was Miss Bright, spinster, scholar, student of classical design.
    And she had a blackmailer to catch.

    She was fascinating, Marcus thought as he walked up the front steps of his town house. Intelligent,
    passionate, and so delightfully different from the usual run of females. She would snake him a most
    interesting mistress for the remainder of the Season. Perhaps longer, if he was fortunate.
    Marcus experienced a surge of what could only have been hope. It would he an enormous relief to settle
    into a comfortable, Stable, long-term affair with an intelligent woman.
    One who accepted his rules and did not pester him for marriage or subject him to childish tantrums and
    irritating emotional scenes.
    One who understood the demands of his assorted intellectual interests.
    One who did not constantly seek to divert his attention from whatever book he was studying or.
    whatever project he was working on at the moment.
    One with whom he could actually converse after the demands of passion had been temporarily satisfied.
    Lovelace opened the door just as Marcus reached the top step. "Good evening, sir. A pleasant night, I
    trust."
    "An interesting evening, Lovelace." Marcus stripped off his coat and handed it to his butler along with his
    hat.
    Lovelace's expression, usually as impassive as an Egyptian sepulchral mask, registered momentary
    surprise. "I am pleased to hear that, sir. You do not usually return from an evening's round of social
    affairs with such, ah, enthusiasm."
    "I am well aware of that, Lovelace. Tonight's affairs were of a somewhat unusual nature." Marcus
    crossed to the library. His boots rang on the gold-veined black marble floor. "You may go to bed. I shall
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    see to the lamps."
    "Thank you, sir." Lovelace paused delicately. "There is one item of news to relate."
    "And that is?" "Your brother arrived here earlier this evening. He left an hour ago. I believe he went out
    to his club."
    "Bennet is here inLondon?" Marcus frowned '"lie is supposed to be visiting friends inScotland."
    "Yes, m'lord. I know." “Well, I shall talk to him in the morning." Marcus went into the library. "Good
    night, Lovelace."
    "Good night, sir." Lovelace quietly closed the door. Marcus crossed the room to the small table in the
    corner. The rich

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