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uncomfortable and rather anxious night. Surely a simple apology will do? But from Lord Eden, not the earl. What do you think, Mama?”
    â€œI just wish you had come and told me that you were not going with Deirdre, Alexandra,” Lady Beckworth said. “Then I could have sent James in search of you, and we would have been saved from all this inconvenience.”
    Alexandra’s eyes widened as a knock at her mother’s door heralded the arrival of a footman with the request that she attend her father in the salon.
    â€œI do not wish to see Lord Amberley,” she said, looking pleadingly at her brother.
    He looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Alex,” he said. “I don’t think the meeting can be avoided. Just remember that you have done nothing wrong and have nothing to be ashamed of. Leave the talking to him.”
    â€œYou must not keep Papa waiting,” Lady Beckworth said nervously. “You know how very strict he is about promptness, Alexandra.”
    James Purnell crossed the room impulsively to his sister’s side and held out his arm for hers. He looked unsmilingly down at her. “I’ll take you downstairs,” he said. “Damn the Earl of Amberley and his brother anyway. I beg your pardon, Mama. Effete aristocrats, both. And a sister who flaunts her beauty before the
ton
and flirts with all and sundry. Refuse him, Alex. To hell with him and his notions of honor.” He did not apologize for the last blasphemy, as they had already passed beyond Lady Beckworth’s hearing.

    H E HAD BEEN MISTAKEN in his guess, Lord Amberley saw as soon as Miss Purnell entered the salon. She was not as lovely as he had thought. He had seen her on a bed, her long and shapely legs fully exposed to his view, her face flushed, her dark eyes huge with bewilderment and embarrassment and well-concealed fright. And her dark hair had been in luxuriantly disordered curls about her face and shoulders. It had been the setting and the circumstances that had given the impression of extraordinary beauty.
    She stood inside the door now, looking at her father, a rather tall, slender woman who held herself very straight. Her hands were clasped quietly before her. She wore a day dress of brown stuff, well cut and clearly expensive, but dreary in color and unimaginative in design. Her hair was pulled back from her forehead and ears and dressed in a smooth chignon. Not a strand was out of place. She had strong features: dark long-lashed eyes topped by dark, slightly arched brows, a straight nose, and lips that were set now in a straight line. He was not sure how they would look when her face was in repose. She held her chin high. She had a firm, even stubborn jaw. Her face was rather pale.
    â€œMay I present the Earl of Amberley to you, Alexandra?” Lord Beckworth said in the heavy moralistic tones that characterized him.
    He sounded always as if he were delivering a sermon, the earl thought as he bowed to Miss Purnell. And what a pretty farce this was, the two of them being formally presented for all the world as if they had not encountered each other under such scandalous circumstances just a matter of hours before. She turned her eyes directly on him. Her expression did not relax as she curtsied. She did not say a word.
    â€œI have given his lordship permission to speak with you alone for ten minutes,” Lord Beckworth continued. “It would be advisable, Alexandra, to consider well what it befits you to do for the honor of yourself and your family. I will wish you to remain in this room afterward, as I have a few words to say to you myself.”
    Miss Purnell dropped her eyes for the first time, Lord Amberley noted. But she raised them again almost immediately and looked at her father. “Yes, Papa,” she said. They were her first words.
    She did not move when Lord Beckworth left the room. Neither did Lord Amberley. He continued to stand with his back to the long windows,