"Leighton Field?" That made no sense. Only cattle and duelists had any use for Leighton Field.

"Do hurry, for heaven's sake. You can take my horse. As you can see, I am not using a lady's saddle."

Julian did not hesitate. He seized the gray's bridle and vaulted into the saddle. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded of the woman in the veil. "His wife?"

"No, you do not understand, but you will soon enough. Just hurry."

"Go into the house," Julian ordered as the gray danced under him. "You can wait inside. If one of the staff finds you there, say nothing except that I have invited you to be there."

Julian put the big horse into a gallop without waiting for a response. Why in God's name would Sophy and her lover run off to Leighton Field, Julian wondered furiously. But he soon stopped asking himself that question and began trying to figure out which male of the ton had sealed his own doom by taking Sophy away that morning.

Leighton Field was cold and damp in the dim, predawn light. A cluster of sullen trees, their heavy branches drooping moisture, crouched beneath a still-dark sky. Mist rose from the ground and hung, thick and gray, at knee level. Anne's small, closed carriage, the yellow curricle a short distance away, and the horses all looked as if they were floating in midair.

When Sophy stepped out into the mist, her legs disappeared beneath her into the fog. She looked at Anne, who was securing the carriage horse. The masculine disguise was astonishingly clever. If she had not known who it was, Sophy would have been certain the smudge-faced, red-haired figure was a young man.

"Sophy, are you sure you want to go through with this?" Anne asked anxiously as she came forward.

Sophy turned to gaze at the curricle stopped a few yards away. The veiled figure dressed in black had not yet alighted from the other vehicle. Charlotte Featherstone appeared to be alone. "I do not have any choice, Anne."

"I wonder where Jane is? She said that if you were determined to be a fool, she would feel obliged to witness it."

"Perhaps she changed her mind."

Anne shook her head. "Not like her."

"Well," Sophy said, straightening her shoulders, "we had best get on with it. It will be dawn soon. I understand this sort of thing is always done at dawn. She started toward the mist-bound curricle.

The lone figure in the curricle stirred as Sophy approached. Charlotte Featherstone, dressed in a handsome black riding habit, stepped down. Although the courtesan was veiled, Sophy could see her hair had been carefully coiffed for the occasion and that Charlotte was wearing a pair of dazzling pearl earrings. One glance at the other woman's fashionable attire made Sophy feel gauche. It was obvious the Grand Featherstone knew all there was to know about style. She even dressed perfectly for a duel at dawn.

Anne went forward to secure the curricle horse.

"Do you know, madam," Charlotte said, lifting her veil to smile coolly at Sophy, "I do not believe any man is worth the discomfort of rising at such an early hour."

"Then why did you bother?" Sophy retorted. Feeling challenged, she, too, lifted her veil.

"I am not sure," Charlotte admitted. "But it is not because of the Earl of Ravenwood, charming though he was to me at one time. Perhaps it is the novelty of the whole thing."

"I can well imagine that after your rather adventurous career, novelties are now few and far between."

Charlotte's eyes fixed steadily on Sophy's face. Her voice lost much of its mocking quality and grew serious. "I can assure you that having a Countess find me an opponent worthy of an honorable challenge is, indeed, a rare event. One might say a unique event. You must realize, of course, that no woman from your level of Society has ever spoken to me, let alone accorded me such respect."

Sophy's head tilted slightly as she studied her opponent. "You may be assured that I have great respect for you, Miss Featherstone. I have read your Memoirs and I think I can guess something of what it must have cost you to rise to your present position."

"Can you really?" Charlotte murmured. "How very imaginative of you."

Sophy flushed, momentarily embarrassed at the thought of how naive she must seem to this sophisticated woman of the world. "Forgive me," she apologized quietly, "I am certain that I cannot begin to understand what you have been through in your life. But that does not mean I cannot respect the fact that you have made your own way in the world and have done so on your own terms."

"I see. And because of this boundless respect you hold for me, you propose to put a bullet through my heart this morning?"

Sophy's mouth tightened. "I can understand why you chose to write the Memoirs. I can even understand your offering past lovers the opportunity to buy their way out of print. But when you selected my husband as your next victim, you went too far. I will not have those love letters in print for all the world to see and mock."

"It would have been far simpler to pay me off, madam, than to go to all this trouble."

"I cannot do that. Paying blackmail is a wretched, dishonorable recourse. I will not stoop to it. We will settle this matter between us here this morning and that will be the end of it."

"Will it? What makes you think that, assuming I am fortunate enough to survive, I will not go ahead and print whatever I wish?"

"You have accepted my challenge. By meeting me this way, you have agreed to settle the issues between us with pistols."

"You think I will abide by that agreement? You think this will be the end of the matter, regardless of the outcome of this duel?"

"You would not have bothered to show up this morning had you not intended to end things here."

Charlotte inclined her head. "You are quite right. That is the way this silly male code of honor works, is it not? We settle everything here with pistols."

"Yes. Then it will be over."

Charlotte shook her head in wry amusement. "Poor Ravenwood. I wonder if he has any notion yet of the sort of wife he has obtained for himself. You must be coming as quite a shock to him after Elizabeth."

"We are not here to discuss my husband or his previous wife," Sophy said through her teeth. The dawn air was cold but she was suddenly aware that she was perspiring. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She wanted to get this business over and done.

"No, we are here because your sense of honor demands satisfaction and because you think I share your concept of honor. An interesting proposition. I wonder, do you comprehend that this definition of honor we are employing this morning is a man's definition?"

"There does not appear to be any other definition of honor that commands respect," Sophy said.

Charlotte's eyes gleamed. "I see," she said softly. "And you would have Ravenwood's respect, if nothing else, is that it, madam?"

"I believe we have discussed this matter sufficiently," Sophy said.

"Respect is all well and good, madam," Charlotte continued thoughtfully, "but I would advise you not to waste much time in an effort to get Ravenwood to love you. Everyone knows that after his experience with Elizabeth he will never risk love again. And, in any event, I must take leave to tell you that just as no man's honor is worth rising at this hour, no man's love is worth taking any great risk over, either."

"We are not dealing with a man's honor or a man's love here," Sophy stated coldly.

"No, I can see that. The issues involved are your honor and your love." Charlotte smiled slightly. "I can accept that those are not trifling matters. They might, indeed, be worth a little blood."

"Shall we get on with it, then?" Fear surged through Sophy as she turned to Anne who was hovering nearby with the case of dueling pistols. "We are ready. There is no point waiting any longer."