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surprised when he promptly obliged. Harris, the footman, arrived to propel her father’s chair. Testily the old man waved them on. “Let’s get going! I’m hungry.”
    Yielding to the slightest of pressures, Lenore allowed Eversleigh to lead her towards the door.
    Appreciatively viewing the regal tilt of his hostess’ golden head as she glided beside him through the waiting throng, her small hand resting lightly on his sleeve, Jason waited until they had reached the relative quiet of the hall before murmuring, “As I was saying, Miss Lester, I have become fascinated by an instance of what I believe might best be described as artful deceit.”
    Lenore was having none of it. “Artful deceit, Your Grace? To what purpose, pray?”
    â€œAs to purpose, I am not at all sure, but I intend to find out, Miss Lester.”
    Lenore risked an upward glance, insensibly annoyed at the feeling of smallness that engulfed her. She was used to dealing with gentlemen eye to eye; Eversleigh’s height gave him an unfair advantage. But she was determined to end his little game. Elevating her chin, she adopted her most superior tone. “Indeed, Your Grace? And just how do you propose to unravel this conundrum of yours, laying all bare?”
    Even as the words left her tongue, Lenore closed her eyes, stifling a groan. Where had her wits gone begging? Then her eyes flew open, her gaze flying, in considerable trepidation, to Eversleigh’s hard countenance. Any hope that he would not take advantage was wiped from her mind the instant her eyes met his. Silver gleamed in the grey, white fire under water.
    â€œMy dear Miss Lester.” The tenor of his voice, velvety deep and heavy with meaning, was a warning in itself. “Would it surprise you to learn that I consider myself peculiarly well-qualified to tackle this particular conundrum? As if my prior existence were nothing more than preparation for this challenge?”
    The dining-room loomed ahead, a sanctuary filled with polished oak and silver, crystal goblets winking in the light from the chandelier. The sight gave Lenore strength. “I find that extremely difficult to believe, Your Grace. You must be sure to tell me when you have solved your puzzle.”
    The smile she received in reply made her giddy.
    â€œBelieve me, my dear Miss Lester, you’ll be the very first to know when I lay my conundrum bare.”
    By rights, Lenore thought, she should at least be allowed a gasp. Only her determination not to dissolve into a witless heap under Eversleigh’s attack allowed her to keep her head high and her composure intact. “Indeed?” she replied, her voice not as strong as she would have liked. As she assumed her chair at the end of the long table, she tried for dismissive boredom. “You intrigue me, Your Grace.”
    â€œNo, Miss Lester.” Jason stood beside her, one long-fingered hand resting lightly on the back of her chair, his eyes effortlessly holding hers. “ You intrigue me .”
    Others milled about, taking their places along the polished boards. Noise and chatter engulfed the company. Yet Lenore heard all through a distancing mist, conscious only of the intent in the grey eyes holding hers. Then, slowly, Eversleigh inclined his head and released her, taking his seat beside her.
    Shaken, Lenore hauled in a quivering breath. Eversleigh was in pride of place on her right; she had purposely installed young Lord Farningham, an eminently safe young gentleman, on her left.
    Watching as the company settled and the first course was brought forth, Lenore felt her nerves flicker restlessly. It was Eversleigh and his disturbing propensity to reach through her defences that was the cause of her disquiet. Quite what it was he did to her normally reliable senses she did not know, but clearly she would have to cope with the problem for the next few hours.
    To her relief, Mrs. Whitticombe, seated beyond Lord