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attended with the express purpose of encountering Lady Morgan Bedwyn again. Waldane had laughed at him and told him a little maliciously that he would be the envy of every hostess in Brussels-provided the party did not get rained upon. But Gervase had not cared. He had hired an agency, turned over every detail of the preparations to its expert care, even the compiling of the guest list-he had simply instructed them to invite everyone who was anyone-and carried on with his days as if he were to be no more than a guest himself.
    By the time the appointed day dawned, all the preparations had been taken care of and his only concern was the weather. But after a morning of intermittent showers and a cloudy afternoon, the sky had cleared by teatime and the sun shone from then until it set. The moon was up even before full darkness descended, and darkness itself brought millions of stars twinkling overhead. It was also a warm and windless night.
    Now, Gervase thought as he surveyed the site, commended the head of the agency, who was present to act as usher and to oversee the catering and all other details of the proceedings in person, and awaited the arrival of the first guest, he had better hope that Lady Morgan Bedwyn would not find some excuse to stay away.
    She had bristled with almost visible annoyance at the review, when he had virtually ignored her after looking his fill and had addressed himself-with perfect correctness-to her chaperon.
    And she was a very proud, haughty young lady. She might well decide to punish him by remaining at home with a headache or some other mild indisposition.
    But he would wager upon her being too proud to make a false excuse and too bold not to face his challenge head-on. She must haverecognized the challenge. She was not, he had been delighted to discover, a foolish young lady.
    Even so, he conceded, this was a colossally expensive gamble.
    The envy of every hostess in Brussels, for the love of God!
     
    MORGAN, WEARING A PALE GREEN EVENING GOWNthat had seemed to her to somehow suit the occasion, was sitting in the open barouche beside Rosamond, their backs to the horses, while Lord and Lady Caddick sat facing them. The evening could not possibly have been lovelier for such an event if they had had the ordering of it, Morgan thought, lifting her face to the sky, which was quite visible through the high branches of the trees.
    The picnic was to be a large and lavish entertainment, she had learned since the Earl of Rosthorn had extended his verbal invitation beside the Dender. Everyone she knew had been invited. Even Alleyne was coming. So were a large number of the officers of her acquaintance-including, of course, Captain Lord Gordon.
    She almost had not come herself. She had even considered the message she would send along with the Caddicks-she would insist upon their going, of course. She would have them inform the Earl of Rosthorn that she preferred to remain at home with a good book this evening since she had been out every night for a week and was a little weary of being entertained. But Lady Caddick would never pass along such a message, of course. She would doubtless tell him that Morgan had a headache or some such lowering thing.
    Besides, she scorned the whole idea of avoiding him. It would be far better, she had decided, to go and confront him and make him understand thatif this picnic had been arranged with her in mind, then he had made a massive error in judgment. She would show him that she found his rakish attentions a colossal bore.
    She had never before had a rake to contend with. Wulfric would have had to raise only half an eyebrow in London to frighten away any who had evencontemplated dallying with her. And Aunt Rochester had hovered like a large, gorgeously plumed bird of prey.
    There was, Morgan admitted to herself, a certain exhilaration in the prospect of matching wits with a practiced rake.
    "The air is warm now," Lady Caddick remarked, "but one wonders if it will not cool