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the raw, brittle tone of a young man who knows he is facing an older,
    more powerful male. It was a tone balanced between fear and bravado.
    Sebastian ignored the interested hush that fell over the crowd at the nearest gaming tables. He knew
    everyone in the room was strain-ing to hear the confrontation without appearing to do so. The entireton
    was aware of the icy feud between Sebastian and his relatives.
    It was highly unusual for either side to even speak to the other. The fact that young Fleetwood was here
    in Sebastian’s favorite club and had actually addressed his cousin by name would no doubt fasci-nate the
    gossips every bit as much as the rumor of a duel.
    “Was there something you wanted, Fleetwood?” Sebastian turned slowly to face Jeremy. “Aside from
    my title, that is? Or have you come to wish me good fortune on the morrow?”
    Jeremy’s handsome face flushed. His eyes were a much darker shade than Sebastian’s, brown rather
    than gold. His hair was lighter in color, a deep mahogany rather than midnight black. Nevertheless,
    Sebastian knew the family resemblance between himself and his cousin was unmistakable. He also knew
    that obvious fact irritated the rest of the Fleetwoods. They would have preferred him to have resem-bled
    his fair-haired mother.
    “You bastard.” Jeremy doubled a hand into a fist. “One of these days someone is going to put a bullet
    through your cold heart and it will serve you right.”
    “Thank you.” Sebastian inclined his head politely. “Always nice to know one’s family is behind one in a
    time of crisis.”
    “It’s true, then?” Jeremy demanded, appalled. “You’re going to subject the family reputation to another
    round of scandal by engaging in a duel with some country yokel?”
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    “You’ll be happy to learn that the rumors of a duel are false.”
    “I don’t believe it.”
    “It’s the truth, cousin.” Sebastian smiled. “Tell your doting mama to cancel her order for mourning
    clothes. I imagine she has already selected something appropriate in black on the off chance that her
    fondest wish might come true on the morrow. Unfortunately for her, I intend to live yet another day.”
    Jeremy scowled. “I heard that the brother of the Merryweather chit challenged you.”
    “Did you? Amazing how gossip flows through theton, isn’t it? A pity that so much of it is false.”
    “Damn it, man, what are you up to this time?”
    “Nothing that need concern you, Fleetwood.”
    “You’re an arrogant bastard, cousin.”
    “Arrogant I may be, but I am most definitely not a bastard.” Se-bastian smiled again. “And that, dear
    cousin, makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”
    Jeremy’s mouth worked, but in the end he seemed to be unable to find words. He spun around on one
    well-shod foot and stalked out of the room.
    The buzz of conversation resumed at the card tables. Sebastian turned back to pour himself another
    glass of port. He stopped when he saw the thoughtful expression in Garrick’s eyes.
    “Don’t worry, my friend,” Sebastian said. “Fieetwood and I have an understanding. Long ago we both
    made a pact to detest each other.”
    Garrick’s gaze remained on the door. “I believe he truly hates you.”
    “Not entirely his fault, I suppose. His mother has taught him to do so from the cradle. She never forgave
    my father for running off with my mother and thereby soiling the family name for all eternity. When I came
    into the title last year instead of her precious Jeremy, she nearly keeled over with apoplexy.”
    “I am well aware of your family history. Be careful, Angelstone. I swear there was murder in
    Fleetwood’s expression just now.”
    “Calm yourself, Sutton. Your imagination is running riot.”
    “I’m not so certain. I have the distinct impression that if Jeremy Fleetwood could find a way to do you in
    without making himself look guilty in the