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civil relations with her spouse. In the dim confines of the carriage she was very conscious of his masculinity and what that meant in terms of marriage. In theory she knew what happened in the conjugal bed, but she’d mostly thought about the less intimate aspects of the wedded state. Added to her discomfort was the recollection of her shock at waking up and finding a man’s head touching parts of her she’d never display in public. Good Lord. Inches farther and he’d have been at her . . .
    Was she really going to go through with this marriage? Wouldn’t it be better to say no and live with the consequences? She wished with all her heart that she could turn back the clock, return to the optimism with which she’d arrived at Vanderlin House for the ball. She’d been poised to seek the useful future she’d planned for years. Thanks to the careless advances of this drunken lord, it had all turned to ashes. She blinked back tears of rage and continued to say nothing.
    He reached out a hand to cover hers and even through their gloves she flinched at his touch.
    â€œI’m sorry.” He pulled back as though burned. “Why did you accept me? I expected you to refuse.”
    â€œWanted me to refuse, you mean. I’m so sorry but, hard as the decision was, I preferred you to the ruination of my reputation and a lifelong banishment to the country.” She held her forefingers half an inch part. “By this much.”
    â€œI didn’t think you cared that much for the opinion of the world. I’ve witnessed occasions when you demonstrated little care for your precious reputation. Like the time you were arrested for attending a seditious meeting.”
    Blake no longer sounded conciliatory. It was too bad that he knew about some of the little problems she’d run into in the past, notably the time two years ago when the magistrates had raided a gathering of political reformers she’d sneaked out to join.
    â€œMy arrest was completely unreasonable,” she said crossly, “and very likely illegal. Besides, it was hushed up. What you did to me in the library can’t be. Now I can never achieve my ambition in life. Do you realize I was about to become engaged to a young man with a brilliant political career ahead of him? Obviously I am no use to any other man now. I am regarded as the Marquis of Blakeney’s leavings.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said again. “I wish I could make things different. I wish there was something I could do.”
    â€œI don’t suppose you’d like to be Prime Minister?”
    He shuddered visibly. “God, no.”
    That’s what she thought.
    T hough a small family party, half a dozen liveried and bewigged footmen attended to the needs of the five diners. Enough leaves had been removed to reduce the table to an almost domestic size, making the dining room at Vanderlin House with its gilt coffered ceiling and ornate velvet drapery appear more than usually cavernous. Blake couldn’t remember ever passing a convivial evening there, and he expected tonight to be no exception.
    The duke took his place at the head of the table in a chair that resembled a throne. When Blake and his sisters had crept out of the nursery to explore the forbidden wonders below, he’d sit there and pretend he was the king and demand the girls curtsey to him. Sometimes they did, especially Amanda, the youngest. The older girls treated him with less respect. None of the three was present to celebrate his betrothal. Aside from Minerva, the only guest was his brother-in-law Gideon Louther, Maria’s husband and the duke’s chief parliamentary henchman.
    Minerva, seated in the place of honor to the right of the throne, was being subjected to his father’s most flattering attention. The old man possessed a good deal of old-fashioned charm when he cared to exercise it, which wasn’t often and never on his own