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and came forward to greet Jude. “How unexpected! I had not hoped to see you tonight.”
    It didn’t sound like a question, but it was, and Jude answered heartily, “Heard you were having a do. Had to come out to show off my latest acquisition”—he slid a finger along his lapel, and in a lower tone, added—“and I have an inquiry about an unforeseen companion I’ve acquired. I hoped to speak with you alone.”
    “A companion. Of the female variety?”
    “Most undoubtedly female.”
    “How intriguing.” At the approach of his charming wife, Throckmorton took her hand, tucked it into his arm, and led them both toward his study. “Darling, Huntington has acquired an unexpected female companion.”
    With a smile that lit the dim, private corridor, Celeste said, “He needs one. He is isolated.”
    Jude suspected that she meant it, which both made him want to deny it and wonder what deep-seated loneliness she saw in him. “Actually, my companion isn’t my choice, and I’m afraid she causes me a bit of a conundrum.”
    Throckmorton frowned in concern. “Who is she?”
    Now that the moment had come, Jude didn’t want to tell him. It sounded so absurd. “It’s a trifling matter, really.”
    In the study, Celeste went from lamp to lamp, turning up the low-burning wicks until warm light reached into every corner of the room. “Trifling matters frequently become larger matters.”
    “You cared enough to bring this to our attention,” Throckmorton reminded him.
    “It’s probably of no moment.”
    “For heaven’s sake, man, what is it?” Throckmorton demanded.
    “My father has hired a female to teach me how to flirt.”
    Silenced, Throckmorton and Celeste stared at him. Then Throckmorton’s solemnity gave way, and he chortled.
    Celeste rested her hand on Throckmorton’s arm. “We should not laugh. This is obviously”—her voice quivered with amusement—“a serious problem for Lord Huntington.” Her gaze wandered up and down his colorful garb. “And a much-needed improvement.”
    Throckmorton and Celeste both burst out laughing. The couple was incongruous, she so light and cheerful, he so dark and somber, and they complemented each other as did the moon and the night.
    Jude crossed his arms and waited until their merriment had subsided a little. “I wondered if someone might suspect me of—”
    “Bad taste?” Throckmorton suggested.
    Jude had to wait again, and this time he glared forbiddingly. His annoyance was tempered by the knowledge that if Signora Eloisa Vittori could hear about his predicament, she would chuckle, too. It was Jude’s ability to flirt that had convinced the famed Italian opera singer to allow him in her bed, and his skill as a lover that kept him there during his three-month sojourn in Florence. But of course, in Florence he had dressed with taste and behaved with the savoir-faire of an urbane English gentleman.
    “Sorry, sorry.” Throckmorton seated Celeste on the sofa, gestured Jude toward the comfortable chair opposite, and seated himself beside his wife. “Suspect you of working for me? Yes, anything’s possible. What’s this young lady’s name?”
    “He wouldn’t say.”
    Throckmorton raised astonished eyebrows. “You don’t even know who she is?”
    “No. He didn’t tell me, which makes me all the more suspicious.” Jude sank into the chair. “I didn’t anticipate my father’s action, but on reflection, I should have. Nevett is not one to wait on events. He wants me married, and I can’t tell him what I’m doing.”
    “No. Heaven forfend. From where did this lady—I assume she is a lady?” At Jude’s nod, Throckmorton continued, “From where did this lady arrive?”
    “Someplace called the Distinguished Academy of Governesses.” Jude waited for their reaction.
    “Oh!” Celeste dimpled. “No, you need have no worry about your companion. If she is recommended by Lady Bucknell, the proprietress, then the young lady is trustworthy.”
    “It’s