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could only favor her father with a blank stare.
    "Now mind ye, girl. I'm givin' ye a bit o' pure wisdom." He waggled a finger at her to emphasize his point. " 'Ere be more ter a man than a handsome face or a pair o' broad, square shoulders. Look at yer precious Mr. Seton, for instance."
    Erienne flinched at the sound of the name and ground her teeth to keep back a flood of heated verbiage. The cad! He had deliberately tricked her!
    "Now, 'ere's a cagey one for ye. Always schemin' ter get the upper hand."
    Erienne almost nodded before she caught herself. The man had played upon her confusion for his own amusement, and her pride stung beneath the suspicion that he had been a step ahead of her all the time.
    "Him being such a rich dandy, I s'pose those doxies on the waterfront would be proud to be on his arm, but no decent lady better take up with his sort. He'd fill their bellies with babes without so much as a promise o' marriage. And even if ye did get him ter say the vows with ye, which I doubt, he'd leave ye for one reason or another when he grew tired o' ye. 'Tis the way o' those handsome cocks. They seem just as proud o' what's in their britches as their own fine fair looks."
    Blushing to the roots of her hair, Erienne recalled where her own gaze had briefly dwelt, with just as much curiosity perhaps as any other smitten virgin.
    " Tis true enough 'at Seton's a handsome one, if ye go for 'em hard, bony jowls." Avery rubbed his knuckles against his own sagging dewlaps. "But ter those who know, he's a cold one, he is. A man can see it in his eyes."
    Erienne remembered the warmth of those crystal-clear orbs and doubted the truth of her father's observation. There was a vibrant life and an intensity in those green eyes that no one could deny.
    Avery ranted on, "With his arrogant and deceitful ways, I pity the wench who weds him."
    Even if she detested the man, Erienne had to disagree again with her sire. Surely the wife of Christopher Seton would be far more envied than pitied.
    "You needn't be concerned, Father." She smiled somewhat ruefully. "I shall never again be taken in by Mr. Seton's wiles."
    Excusing herself, Erienne made her way up the stairs and paused briefly outside Farrell's door. The snores continued undisturbed. No doubt he would sleep the day away, then come the night rouse himself for another drinking bout.
    She frowned slightly and glanced around. There was a faint scent in the hall, of a mild, manly cologne, and for an elusive moment the green eyes highlighted with light gray flicked through her mind and hinted at what the strong, straight lips had not been wont to speak. She shook her head to banish the vision, and the top step caught her eye. The memory of the way he had lifted her back and held her to him sent a dizzying thrill through her. She could almost feel the rock-hard arms clasped about her, and the smooth, sleek firmness of his well-muscled chest pressed against her bosom.
    Erienne's face flamed at the meanderings of her mind, and she ran to her room, where she fell across the bed and lay staring out a rain-spattered window. His silken jibes echoed through her mind.
    Cast down! Cross over! Bovine!
    Suddenly her eyes flew wide as she realized the full import of what he had said. She could not find the slightest pleasure in being informed that he would not step over her to get to a cow. She cursed his glib tongue and herself for not seeing his meaning immediately. With an agonized groan, she rolled onto her back to stare at the cracked plaster of the ceiling, which gave her mind no gentler balm than the water-streaked glass had.
    Downstairs in the parlor, Avery continued to pace in distraught agitation. Trying to find a wealthy husband for his daughter was proving to be the most difficult task he had ever set himself upon. It was true irony that just when Silas Chambers was getting into a heated froth at the idea of having a young and beauteous maid for a wife, that rapscallion Seton appeared to