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answering smile still retained its avuncular quality, he shifted his attention to the servant. Gabriella's unwavering regard continued unabated, making him increasingly uncomfortable. Whatever ailed the woman, his best course of action was to appear unaware of any unusual behavior on her part, he decided. Following his gaze, Gabriella turned slightly and made the introduction, her voice as husky as before but less hesitant now: "This is Miss Twindlesham, who has taken care of us all for lo these many years."
    He bowed. "Miss Twindlesham. Welcome to Wickham House."
    "Thank you, my lord." Miss Twindlesham's expression relaxed, and as she smiled primly at him he got the feeling that he had passed some sort of a test. Claire continued to smile at him, too, and young Beth positively beamed at him. The only one of his newfound relations who did not look delighted to make his acquaintance was, in fact, Gabriella. Instead, she was watching him with a wary frown.
    He smiled at her with, he hoped, a good approximation of brotherly fondness.
    "Will you not introduce us to your sisters, Marcus?" Belinda appeared beside him, twining her arm in his. The wife of Lord Ware, an elderly, infirm peer who lived year round at his seat in Devonshire, she traveled annually to London where, despite having a taste for gaming and an open appreciation of men, she was nevertheless everywhere received. He had met her at a card party not long after he had arrived in town, and she had been his mistress since that date. But her proprietary air was beginning to grate on him, and, while she was held to be a beauty, her rather mature looks could not hold a candle to those of, say, his newly met middle sister.
    As he made the introductions, he allowed no trace of what he was thinking to show on his face.
    "Lady Ware, allow me to present Lady Gabriella, Lady Elizabeth, and Lady Claire Banning, and Miss Twindlesham."
    Gabriella, he saw, with what must be an innate ability to judge quality, held out a mere two fingers to Belinda. She murmured something appropriate while looking as if she did not count herself completely honored by the introduction. The two younger ladies smiled and held out their hands, and Miss Twindlesham sketched a curtsy. He concluded the introductions with a careless wave of his hand toward the other members of his party. "Also, Lady Alicia Monteigne, Mrs. Armitage, Lord Denby, and the Honorable Mr. Pool."
    The exchange of polite greetings was interrupted by Stivers, who, after a quick conference with the footman, approached to hover at his shoulder.
    "Yes, Stivers?"
    "My lord, the carriages have been brought 'round."
    He nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you." Then, to the assembled group, which, he thought with some amusement, resembled nothing so much as a flock of curious peacocks crowding around a quartet of beset crows, he said in a louder voice: "It seems that, if we are not to miss the evening's entertainment entirely, we must go. Gabriella, Claire, Beth, we will talk more on the morrow. In the meantime, Stivers will take excellent care of you, I know."
    The theatre party grew boisterous again as good-byes were said, and assorted hats, greatcoats, sticks, and cloaks were handed around. Then the door was opened, and they headed out into the night, which, even though it was now April, had grown teeth-chatteringly cold. His last over-the-shoulder glimpse of his new sisters showed him that Gabriella, who still stood in the center of the hall with the others clustered around her, had turned all the way around to watch them go. Their gazes met for only the briefest of moments before the closing door blocked her from his view. But even as he swung inside the waiting chaise and settled himself next to the warm, sweet-smelling armful that was Belinda, he could not get her expression out of his mind. It took him a few minutes to recall where he had seen such a look before, but when he did the memory was unsettling: it had been during the