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it, man, you have caught cold on this one. The widow has your measure. She’ll be spending her time keeping you away from her precious daughter and won’t spare a thought for the rest of us!’

      They had reached the junction and Fullingham went on his way, still laughing. Richard rode slowly to the stables behind Royal Crescent. He couldn’t help thinking that the fellow was right, Phyllida might well be blind to the danger posed by the other men. She might even welcome their attentions towards Ellen, even those of Sir Charles Urmston. There was no doubt the fellow could be very charming, but underneath he was a villain. Richard’s mouth tightened. He meant to win this wager. When it came to women he had never yet lost out to a rival, and he had no intention of starting now.

       And what of Phyllida?

      Richard’s hand tightened on the reins. That incident in the chapel should never have happened. He had felt curiously lightheaded, probably from the wine they had been served at the house. It could certainly not have been anything else; he was not one to lose his head over any woman, especially one who was only tolerably pretty.

      Although she did have particularly fine eyes.

      And her smile. When she smiled she illuminated a whole room—

      No! His only interest in Lady Phyllida was as Ellen Tatham’s guardian and as a friend of his great-aunt. If she were to confide her worries to the dowager that would make life difficult. Not impossible, but he should not like to fall out with Sophia. A bitter, humourless smile twisted his mouth. Phyllida had told him she did not believe the Arrandales were really so scandalous. This little adventure would show her how wrong she was.

      * * *

      For the next few days he concentrated upon fixing his interest with Miss Tatham. He paid morning calls in Charles Street, and when Ellen hinted they were going shopping he tarried in Milsom Street until they arrived, or he sought them out at the Pump Room and curtailed his own visit to walk them home. Lady Phyllida was cool, even a little reserved, but not overtly hostile and when Ellen informed him innocently that she and Lady Phyllida would be taking a stroll in Sydney Gardens with Julia Wakefield the following morning he made sure he was there, just in case he needed to head off any of his rivals.

      ‘Mr Arrandale, what a surprise to find you here,’ declared Ellen when she saw him approaching, not long after they had entered the gardens.

      ‘Yes, isn’t it,’ muttered Phyllida.

      ‘We are going to the labyrinth,’ explained Julia Wakefield.

      ‘Then I will walk with you, if I may.’

      ‘But we are going in the opposite direction to you, Mr Arrandale,’ Lady Phyllida pointed out. ‘Are you sure you have time?’

      He ignored the challenge in her eyes and replied with a smile as false as her own, ‘All the time in the world, ma’am.’

      He turned to walk with Ellen but Phyllida stepped between them.

      ‘Then that is very civil of you, Mr Arrandale.’

      She proceeded to converse with him as they strolled along the wide path. Occasionally they were obliged to move aside to allow a carriage to pass, but every time they recommenced their walk she was there, at his side, and engaging him in conversation.

      He wondered briefly if she was trying to fix his interest, following their time together at Farleigh Castle but he soon dismissed the thought. Then she had been open and relaxed with him. Now her cool friendliness did not ring true. She was on her guard and he thought it much more likely that she was suspicious of his motives. Clearly she did not intend to allow him a chance to converse with either of the young ladies and he knew better than to attempt it. When they arrived at the labyrinth he thought it politic not to offer to accompany them inside, and prepared to take his leave.

      ‘Oh, but you must stay and keep Phyllida company,’ Ellen protested. ‘She does not like the maze and means to wait for us outside.’

      ‘No, Ellen, that will not be necessary. I am sure Mr Arrandale has better things to do with his time.’

      Lady Phyllida’s answer was delivered firmly. Clearly it was designed to dismiss him. He knew he should retire with good grace but his particular devil prompted him to stay.

      ‘I should be delighted to wait for you, Miss Tatham.’ He patted his pocket. ‘And I have a plan of the labyrinth, so if you get lost you only need to call out and I shall come to your aid.’

      Phyllida’s eyes sparkled with indignation, but Ellen was duly admiring.

      ‘How gallant, and enterprising,’ she remarked. ‘Come along, Julia. Phyllida, pray you, wait on that bench for us—we will not be too long.’

      * * *

      The girls ran off, leaving Phyllida with Richard Arrandale. It was the first time they had been alone together since the chapel at Farleigh, when she had come close to making a complete fool of herself. It had not been mentioned, of course, and since then she had been careful to keep a distance between them. Until today, when she had put herself in his way and kept him talking. She had not been comfortable about it, but she was determined that he should not be allowed to give his arm to Ellen or Julia Wakefield.

      She had to admit that he had taken it in good part and had behaved like the perfect gentleman, conversing with her as if there was nothing he would rather do. He had a knack of setting her at her ease, of making her feel important. Cherished. That was what made it so difficult to dislike him.

      Yet it did not mean she should encourage him. She moved towards a bench.

      ‘I must not take up any more of your time, Mr Arrandale, so I will bid you good day.’

      ‘I assure you, Lady Phyllida, I am at your disposal.’

      She sat down, saying with finality, ‘Really, Mr Arrandale, it is not at all necessary for you to wait with me.’

      ‘But I have a plan of the labyrinth.’

      It gave her no little satisfaction to respond, tapping her reticule. ‘So, too, have I.’

      ‘Ah.’

      It was then she made the mistake of peeping up at him. She saw his rueful look and burst out laughing.

      ‘Admit it, sir, you have been brought to the point non plus. There is no reason to stay now.’

      ‘Would you have me be so unchivalrous as to agree with you?’ he said, sitting down on the bench beside her. ‘It has never been my practice to abandon a lady when she is on her own.’

      ‘But I shall not be on my own once the girls return.’

      ‘Then I shall keep you company until then.’

      His cool response flustered her.

      ‘But I do not wish for your company.’

      He shifted to the far end of the bench and twisted in his seat to look at her, resting one hand negligently along the backrest. Phyllida remained rigidly upright, staring straight ahead. He really was the most infuriating man. Well, she hoped he appreciated her profile.

      ‘We could converse,’ he said at last.

      ‘We have already done so, on the way here.’

      ‘But there must be something we have not yet talked about.’

      ‘No.’

      She could feel the warmth of his gaze upon her. It sent little shards of excitement to pierce the armour of cool civility with which she had surrounded herself. If only he would go away! She recalled reading somewhere that the best form of defence was attack and she turned to face him.

      ‘Yes, there is something. Why do you remain in Bath, Mr Arrandale?’

      ‘I enjoy spending time with my great-aunt.’

      ‘Is that truly the reason?’ She subjected him to a searching look.

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