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dominating high-handedness was making her gratitude for his help dim fast.
    "Lord Elliot, your family's name, and that of Easterbrook, is never mentioned in that manuscript."
    That surprised him. His sternness cracked long enough for her to glimpse the amiable, helpful man who had first entered her apartment. It did not last. The brooding distraction took over and the sharp mind assessed what she had said.
    "Miss Blair. Merris Langton approached my brother and described a specific accusation against my father. Is there anything in that manuscript that in your opinion could be interpreted as relating to my parents?"
    She wished he had not phrased his question quite that way. "There is one part that might be so interpreted. I suppose."
    "Please describe it."
    "I would rather not."
    "I insist. You will tell me now."
    His voice, his stance, and his expression said he would brook no argument. She had never before in her life been so pointedly ordered to do something by a Hum
    Perhaps it would be best if he and his family were warned. The passage they discussed had been one of several in the memoirs to give her pause.
    "My father describes a private dinner party several years before my mother died. They entertained a young diplomat just back from the Cape Colony. My father wanted to learn the true conditions there. This young man drank rather freely and turned morose. While in his cups he confided something regarding an event in a British regiment in the colony."
    The mention of the Cape Colony had garnered his attention too well. She inwardly grimaced. She had always hoped that rumor was untrue, but—
    "Go on. Miss Blair."
    "He said that while he was there, a British officer died. It was reported as from a fever but in fact he had been shot. He was found dead after going on patrol. There were suspicions regarding another officer who had accompanied him, but no evidence. Rather than impugn that other officer, a false cause of death was reported."
    He masked his reaction very well now. She looked upon a face carved of stone. His silence turned terrible, however, quaking with the anger leaking out of him.
    "Miss Blair, if you associated that man's story with my family, you must know the scurrilous rumor about my father, and how he is said to have had my mother's lover posted in the Cape Colony. A place where that officer died of fever."
    She swallowed hard. "I may have heard something to that effect once."
    "If you did, many did. Neither Langton nor you had any difficulty adding up the references and drawing a conclusion. If you publish that section the insinuation will stand that my father paid another officer to kill my mother's lover. The lack of names in the memoirs will not spare my father's reputation, and he cannot defend himself from the grave," "I am not convinced-—"
    "Damn it that is exactly what will happen and you know it. I demand that you remove that portion of the memoirs."
    "Lord Elliot. I am sympathetic to your distress. Truly, I am. However, my father charged me with seeing his memoirs published, and it is my duty to do so. I have thought long and hard about this. If I remove every sentence that might be construed as dangerous or unflattering to this person or that, there will be little left."
    He strode to her and looked down hard. "You will not publish this lie."
    His determination was palpable. He did not require expressions of anger or verbal threats to emphasize the power he would use against her. It was just there, surrounding her, tinged by the sexual awareness that had never left this chamber, creating a mood that held all the edges of that dark instinct.
    "If it is a lie, I will consider omitting it," she said. "If you can obtain proof that man died of fever, or if my parents' guest recants, in this one case I will do it. For Alexia, however, not for you or Easterbrook."
    That checked him. A slow smile formed. "For Alexia? How convenient for you. Now you can retreat without giving me a victory."
    He