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a jest,’ she said angrily, noting his muscular calf in its pink silk stocking; there was no need for padding there. In fact, his whole physique belied the idle fop. She shook such irrelevant thoughts from her. ‘As for my brother’s outlandish scheming, that is certainly not to be taken seriously…’

      ‘Then you are at an impasse.’

      ‘It would seem so. But do not mistake me, I am not done yet.’

      ‘No, of course you are not.’ He looked sideways at her, wondering how much of the last half-hour had been carefully planned to trap him, how much of an actress she was. He gave a little chuckle. ‘You have forgot one calling open to impecunious ladies.’

      She turned to stare at him. ‘How dare you! I had thought you were a gentleman, my lord. I see now how mistaken I was.’ Angrily, she began to walk on very fast, but he soon caught her up.

      ‘You misunderstand me, ma’am,’ he said, taking her arm and forcing her to stop. ‘Such a thing never entered my head. I was thinking of the stage.’

      She pulled herself out of his grasp. ‘An actress! That is nearly as bad.’

      ‘It need not be. The stage is becoming respectable, you know. I am acquainted with several actresses who are as staid as nuns.’

      ‘How disappointing for you!’

      ‘Ouch! Perhaps I deserved that. Shall we call a truce? I so dislike being at outs with anyone.’

      ‘Very well,’ she conceded. ‘But I cannot act, and it does not appeal to me.’

      ‘But do you like to watch a play?’

      ‘I used to, when Papa was…’ She paused. ‘I have not been lately.’

      ‘Then we should remedy that at once. I have a box at the Theatre Royal. It will be my pleasure to escort you.’

      ‘Why?’ she demanded.

      ‘In order to make amends for my serious blunder just now.’

      ‘There is no need for that. I have forgiven you.’

      He stopped and bowed to her. ‘I am indeed relieved.’ He took his place beside her again and they continued their walk. ‘But what about a visit to the theatre?’

      ‘Lord Portman, you forget I am in mourning for one thing and on Monday I am to begin work at Lady Bonhaven’s. I will have no opportunity to see a play, unless she chooses to go and I accompany her.’

      ‘She won’t do that. I know the lady and she abhors all such entertainment as the height of depravity. A more strait-laced matron it would be hard to imagine.’

      ‘Then I am sorry, I shall have to forgo the pleasure.’

      ‘I am sorry too. Look, we are at the end of the path. Shall we turn about and go back to the Rotunda or make our way to the field for the fireworks?’

      She turned, looking for her brother and Sir Ashley in the milling crowds, but they seemed to have disappeared. She suspected they were deliberately throwing her into a compromising situation. ‘Oh, it is too bad of Max. Where has he got to? I must go at once and look for him.’

      ‘He will find us if we go to the fireworks. If not, I will undertake to see you safely home.’

      ‘How could he?’ she stormed. ‘How could he?’

      It was not a question to which she expected a reply, but he chose to answer it. ‘I think he is hoping that I will be chivalrous enough to make you an offer, as I am sure you are aware.’

      ‘Then he has been wasting his time. You are not going to, are you?’

      ‘You are nothing if not outspoken,’ he said. ‘And you have put me in a predicament, as you did when we first conversed three days ago: to agree would certainly not be gallant and to disagree would mean that I must make the offer.’

      ‘Oh, be done with your jests! I cannot abide any more of them.’

      ‘Then by all means let us be serious.’ He drew her to one side of the crowded path, where a Grecian statue stood on a plinth in a little arbour. Here it was quiet and they would not be disturbed. She knew she ought to protest, but there was something about him that was hard to resist. He pulled her down beside him on to the plinth, which was at the right height to make a seat. ‘We could play their little game out for them.’

      ‘You refer to my brother and Sir Ashley?’

      ‘Yes. Both are convinced we should make a match of it.’

      ‘I know Max’s reasons, but what are Sir Ashley’s?’

      ‘He knows I must marry again in order to beget an heir to my estate.’ He paused, wondering whether to explain about Beth, but decided not to; he wished he had never told Ash. ‘Sir Ashley has chosen you for the role of my bride.’

      His use of the word role made her wonder if he saw it all as a play and they were each acting out their parts. ‘Why?’

      ‘Do you know, I have no idea? Perhaps he appreciates your qualities.’

      ‘I do not see how he can know them. Whenever we have met, he has seen fit to disappear with my brother, leaving us together.’

      ‘Your brother is not a very diligent escort.’ He was rapidly coming to appreciate her qualities himself. She was not cowed or overawed and had a ready wit. She was also, as Ash had pointed out, not tiny as Beth had been, but strong and healthy. She was not beautiful, but she was certainly not repulsive. Those divine eyes made up for a great deal. Supposing she were to bear his children—would they have eyes like hers? He tried to imagine them and the picture was not at all unpleasant. She needed to earn a living and he could offer her something a great deal better than working for Lady Bonhaven. Could it work? According to Ash, no woman would turn down the chance to be mistress of Bishop’s Court.

      ‘Let us ignore Sir Ashley and your brother and decide for ourselves what is to be done.’ She opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger over her mouth to stop her. ‘I will say my say, then you may say yours. Agreed?’

      She nodded, aware of the dry warmth of his finger on her slightly parted lips and had to take a firm hold on herself not to nip it with her teeth.

      ‘Good.’ With the marble Venus smiling down on them, he took both her hands in his. ‘Let us consider the pros and cons. One, I need an heir and to beget an heir I need a wife. Two, I am not disposed to fall in love again, but any wife I choose must be up to the task of being mistress of my household and being a good mother to my children.’ He stopped, realising there was an important question he had not asked. ‘You do wish for children, I assume?’

      Too bemused to speak, she nodded again

      ‘Good. Where was I? Oh, yes, point three. Health and looks.’ He regarded her face gravely as if sizing these up. ‘I am told you have never been ill in your life.’

      ‘Max,’ she said ruefully. ‘I’ll wager he did not commend my looks.’

      ‘I can judge those for myself.’

      ‘He said you required a wife that would not outshine you.’ It was said as a put-down, but it only served to make him throw back his head and laugh. It was a laugh very different from that of the macaroni. He was forever surprising her.

      ‘There is that, of course. I am indebted to your brother for that point. Now what number were we up to? Four, was it?’

      ‘Five if you take account of the one my brother furnished.’ The conversation was so preposterous, she felt herself playing the game out of amusement and curiosity.

      ‘Five, then. You must find a home and a way of making a living which, I understand, has become urgent. Is that so?’

      She nodded again, knowing she ought to stand up and walk away, but finding it impossible to do so.

      ‘We come to six.

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