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pointing at the entryway where the aged Lamden butler had already pulled the great oaken door open.
    “Now that should prove truly entertaining,” Temple muttered under his breath. Both Colin and Lamden glared at him, though it did little to stifle his levity.
    “Do you mind?” Colin shot over his shoulder at his cousin.
    Temple grinned, this time at Lady Diana. “No, not at all.”
    She frowned back and then returned her glare to Colin. “I have no need to listen any further to your lies. Good day to you and good riddance.” She turned to leave, but then spun back around. Reaching out, she took Colin’s hand, dropping the emerald and pearl engagement ring into his palm, along with the miniature. Without another word, she turned on one heel and marched up the stairs.
    “Away with ye, Danvers,” Lamden said, his Scottish heritage coming to the forefront in the angry burr tingeing his threats, “before I do call you out. The Admiralty may be afraid of your grandfather’s lofty connections; but I’d have no qualms seeing you consigned to a cold grave. The Lamden name is as old as the Setchfields’, older I’d dare say, and certainly not to be sullied by the likes of cowardly dogs.”
    Colin flinched. He’d never been called a coward before, and he didn’t like it overly much. But this was a situation of his own making and he could hardly call out Lamden for an insult that to most would seem deserved.
    So instead of demanding satisfaction, he bowed low to the elderly gentleman and said, “My apologies, sir. I meant no insult on your good name. Please give my regrets to Lady Diana.” He paused for a moment, glancing up the stairwell where his betrothed had fled. “That is, when she is of a mind to listen.”
    Lamden snorted. “That’ll be a cold day.”
    Temple added his bow, to which Lamden snorted yet again and made an impatient wave to send them on their way. So Colin and Temple took their hats and cloaks from the Lamden butler, and left.
    They weren’t even halfway down the front steps when Temple said, “Demmed waste of a good heiress, that.”
    Colin shot his cousin an annoyed glance. He hadn’t been marrying Lady Diana for her money—for despite what the papers, the London gossips, and the Admiralty had declared, he actually still had plenty of money.
    Only Temple—perpetually short of funds, despite the fact that he was heir to their grandfather, the Duke of Setchfield’s heir—would think first of Diana’s money.
    “Why don’t you marry her?” he suggested.
    “Marry Diana?” Temple laughed with what Colin thought was a tad too much irony. “Grandfather would in alt, but you heard Lamden, the old boy would never hear of it. He certainly doesn’t want the likes of me, someone who spends too much time off shooting in Scotland or gadding about at house parties, marrying his precious daughter.”
    “Tell him the truth. Tell him what you are really doing when you are off ‘shooting’ in Scotland.”
    Temple cocked a single brow. “Why don’t you tell him what you are up to with this trumped-up court-martial? You would no more disobey a direct order and leave a battle than I would be caught mucking about in some cold Scottish bog shooting at some demmed bird.” He paused and motioned at the closed and probably barred door of the Lamden town house. “Go on, tell him the truth. And when you get done with him, would you mind enlightening me?”
    Colin knew he shouldn’t be surprised that his cousin would see past Nelson’s grand deception. If anyone knew a thing or two about deceiving the ton, it was Temple. And though he knew he could trust his cousin with the truth, he was compelled to silence on the matter.
    There was too much at stake. And so he said nothing.
    “I thought as much,” Temple said, nodding in knowing agreement. He glanced over his shoulder, back up at Lamden’s four-story colonnaded home. “Still, a pity one of us didn’t get her. Diana is a rare gem. Always has