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it if you would stop trying to have me invited to every
damned pheasant and fox hunt in the country this autumn," he snapped,
limping into the room. His angry green eyes turned to Angelique, and' he
stopped in mid-stride. "My apologies, Lady Angelique," he said after
a moment. "I didn't realize you were here."
    "That's
quite all right, my lord," Angel responded, noting that his long-fingered
hands were crumpling someone's engraved calling card into an unrecognizable
wad.
    "I only
asked if the Marquis of Westfall would be hosting his annual hunt," Lady
Elizabeth commented, setting aside her tea, "and mentioned that you
enjoyed hunting."
    "You know
bloody well that I do not enjoy—"
    "Hunting
with the Marquis of Westfall will do wonders for your reputation, my
grandson."
    He scowled.
"Hunting with Westfall will give me an attack of apoplexy." Angel
couldn't stifle a chuckle, and the marquis glanced over at her. "Do I
amuse you?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.
    She shook her
head. "I'm trying to imagine you suffering from apoplexy."
    He gave a
slight grin. "Ah, but you've never seen me attempting to converse with Westfall.”
    The dowager
viscountess snorted. "The last time you conversed with Westfall you
relieved him of seven hundred pounds at Boodles' club, did you not?"
    The marquis
furrowed his brow. "Was that Westfall? I
remember it seemed quite amusing at the time, but—"
    "What's
amusing?"       .
    Angel started.
"Simon," she exclaimed, as he strolled into the room.
    He took her
hand and raised it to his lips, then glanced over at his cousin.
"Generally, James, when someone is accompanying someone else, the first
someone does not storm off in a rage and leave the second someone behind to
make his apologies."
    "I didn't
ask you to apologize," the marquis returned shortly. "And if you and
Grandmama would stop meddling in my affairs, I wouldn't have to go storming off
anywhere." He glanced over at Elizabeth. "Did it occur to either of
you that I might simply want to spend this autumn at Abbonley? That I might
enjoy being home after having been away for nearly two years?"
    Lady Elizabeth
stood. "You're right, Jamie," she sighed, stepping over to kiss him
on the cheek. She looked over at Angelique. "May I leave you in the
company of these rapscallions for a moment?'
    "Of
course," Angel agreed, glancing over at the marquis, and for the sake of
her reputation grateful that Simon was present.
    "What are
you up to now, Grandmama?" James queried suspiciously.
    "I'm going
to send a note to Julia Davern to inform her that I was in error and my
grandson will not be available to go fox hunting after the Season."
    "Oh, good
God," Abbonley groaned, motioning her out the door. "Please."
    Simon grinned.
"You can't blame us for trying, you know."
    "Yes, I
can."
    "I thought
you wanted to be respectable," Angelique added, and was rewarded by a
scowl from the marquis.
    "That's
correct, my lady. Respectable." He dropped onto the couch beside her.
"Not sent to Bedlam. That quadrille lasted for twenty-five minutes. I
conversed, quite charmingly, I might add, with Miss Wainwright for that entire
time. I received three responses." He ticked them off on his fingers.
" 'Yes, my lord,' 'no, my lord,' and 'whatever pleases you, my
lord.'"       .
    Angelique
nodded and took another sip of tea. "That is what you required, is it
not?" she said mildly. "I'm afraid I don't see the problem."
    "What are you two talking about?" Simon interjected.
    "That was bloody well not what I required," the marquis
snapped, ignoring his cousin. His emerald eyes, though, seemed considerably
less than annoyed as he met her gaze.
    He was enjoying
the argument, she realized. And so was she. "Miss Wainwright is quiet,
respectable, and from a good family. That is what you—"
    "All
right. I see your point." James threw up his hands in mock surrender.
"There's no need to stab me with it." He shook his head, a reluctant
grin touching his lips. "Next time, please add