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macho types who were twice her size. Bulging muscles and bulging…well, it had been a while since she’d had a lover. The fact that her father was a small man, with a mean temper, was no excuse for her to go to the other extreme when it came to her ideal man.
    Wearily, Amy sat down on the bed and kicked off her shoes, wriggling her toes back to life. If Mr. de Mortimer was trouble then she’d better find out now, so that she and Jez could deal with it. Things were bad enough without him making it worse.
    She fixed him with a no-nonsense look. “Okay then, tell me who you really are?”

Five
     
     
    The Ghost was looking back at her, and she could see him summing her up. Deciding whether he would be frank with her, at last. Whatever he saw he must have liked, because he bowed his head in assent. He had a way with him, that was for sure. Maybe he really was an actor.
    “My name,” he began quietly, “is Lord Reynald de Mortimer. You know this, lady, for I have told you. I do not lie. I never lie. I am the Ghost.”
    Amy felt a sharp stab of disappointment. Irritably, she swirled the liquid in her glass. “I was hoping you’d trust me. That we could stop playing games now. I think you owe me something.”
    “Why should I owe you anything, lady?”
    “I saved you from Coster. He was going to call the police. If you weren’t on his guest list, you’d have been evicted. Arrested. Hauled up before a magistrate. At the very least you’d have been severely embarrassed. Because we both know you’re not on his list, are you, my lord ?” she added, with a sly glance.
    “This is my home,” he said doggedly. “He cannot evict me.”
    “Of course he can! He’s probably checking through the names right now, trying to decide whether I’m having him on. It’s lucky Jez told me a few of the guests haven’t turned up yet. We’ll just have to hope they don’t, or he’ll be knocking at my door with half a dozen constables behind him.”
    “Jez?” he demanded, with a haughty lift of his eyebrows.
    “My brother. Short for Jeremy.”
    She could almost see his brain turning over what she’d said. It was as if she was speaking in a foreign language, one he had difficulty interpreting.
    She sighed, swallowing her drink. “You can trust me, you know. I’m good with secrets. Are you undercover or something? MI5?”
    “My name is Reynald de—”
    “All right, all right. I’ll call you Rey. Now, Rey, what am I going to do with you? I’ve got to go back to the party. Jez will be looking for me if I don’t.”
    “Why does your brother bring you to a place such as this?”
    Amy laughed wryly. “Believe me, Jez can be very persuasive.”
    Reynald puzzled over her words once more, wondering what it was she was not saying. In his experience women were often used as pawns in the games of men, and the higher born the lady, the higher the stakes. Was this what was happening to Amy? Was her brother, Jez, trying to use her to gain favor with the unpleasant man who had tried to stop Amy leaving the party?
    She was beautiful, he thought dispassionately. Even if she were not wealthy, she would be a prize for any man. Many would be willing to do much to have such a lady for a night or two.
    Inside him, he felt a stirring, a strange ache.
    “So, Rey. ” Her voice startled him. She was gazing up at him, her short auburn hair curling like a fiery halo about her head. With her triangular face, pointed chin, and slanting green eyes, she looked like a creature from the forests. Some sort of sprite.
    “Let’s start again. Where do you come from? I can’t quite place that accent.”
    “I am from Norman blood,” he said slowly. “My father was a powerful man with many enemies. My mother was an heiress who lacked good sense.”
    A frown marred the perfection of her brow and drew her thin dark eyebrows together. “Well, we don’t chose our parents, do we?”
    “When I inherited, I became one of the most important men in England.