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situations, just as wars undoubtedly provide grand opportunities for ordinary, mundane soldiers to hack a bloody path to prominence and promotion.”
    Garner stiffened visibly. His hand slid up to rest on the filigreed hilt of his dress sword, and the skin across his cheeks and over the finely chiseled flare of his nostrils paled with tension. “I would hardly equate the two professions, since the one exists to defend life and liberty, while the other … the other was created by parasites to feed on the spoils of defeat.”
    Damien Ashbrooke was the only one to gasp out loud, but his surprise was obviously shared by the others as they waited, expectantly, for an explosion of violence to erupt between the two men. It was, however, an explosion of a very different kind that burst into their midst. An explosion of color and laughter and soft swirls of silk.
    “All this serious talk and all these serious scowls,” Catherine scolded prettily, “on my birthday? Shame on you, Hamilton. And you too, Damien. Poor Harriet and I were beginning to feel as neglected as one of the potted palms.”
    “Mistress Ashbrooke!” William Merriweather bowed flamboyantly over her hand. “And Mistress Chalmers. Have you truly been feeling neglected, or do you say it simply to tease these poor ravished heartstrings?”
    “Positively perishing of boredom,” Catherine insisted.“But for that charming bit of gallantry, you may claim the honor of my birthday dance.”
    Her violet eyes flashed toward Hamilton to mark his reaction at being passed over for the privilege—but her gaze did not make it past the gentleman standing beside her brother. His face had been partially turned away in profile, but at the sound of her voice he had turned, and at the first glimpse of those dark, penetrating midnight eyes, her breath became trapped somewhere between her throat and her lungs.
    There was no mistaking those eyes, no misreading the slight curl on his mouth that took another subtle stretch upward when he saw the shock register on her face. For despite the formal attire and neatly bound periwig, it was the same rogue who had accosted her in the forest that morning.

3

    C atherine stared at the stranger for what seemed like half an eternity. Her reaction did not go unnoticed; Damien, for one, saw the flush flow into her cheeks and the violet of her eyes darken with outrage, and if he had not known better, if he had not known that Raefer had arrived from London only that afternoon and had never met any of the Ashbrooke family before, he would have sworn his sister was regarding him as she would a life-long enemy.
    Acutely aware of the strained relations between Montgomery and Hamilton Garner, Damien attempted to cover the awkward silence with introductions.
    “Raefer Montgomery, I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my sister, Catherine.”
    The tall merchant stepped forward and bowed politely over her hand. “A very great pleasure indeed, Mistress Ashbrooke. And my warmest felicitations on your birthday. I arrived rather unexpectedly, and Damien was kind enough to invite me to stay for the party—although he neglected to mention he had such a lovely sister.”
    “I’m so glad you could join us,” she said frostily, her eyes flicking to her brother with a promise of retribution.
    “Er … and Mistress Harriet Chalmers,” Damien added lamely. “Mr. Raefer Montgomery.”
    Montgomery’s smile widened and changed from one of amusement to one of genuine pleasure. “Mistress Chalmers. I have indeed looked forward to meeting you. Damien has spoken of you many times, but if I might beallowed to say so, his descriptions have not done you justice.”
    “Why, thank you, sir.” Harriet blushed furiously, conscious of Catherine’s black glare.
    As to the latter, she was fighting hard to control the indignation coursing heatedly through her veins. She had come perilously close to slapping the sly grin off Montgomery’s face, and