"Poor little bugger," Sebastian said as she came back to the carriage. "I wonder how far he'll get before somebody bigger and stronger takes it from him." He handed her up to the driving seat, perched precariously high above the horses.

Judith shrugged sadly. "He'll probably steal a loaf of bread one day, and they'll hang him at Newgate. We can defeat Napoleon with great sound and fury at vast expense of money and lives. But we can't somehow ensure that a tiny child gets enough to eat. Or even change a penal system that hangs the same child for stealing the bread that would keep him from starving. At least Bonaparte brought some species of enlightenment to the penal codes in his empire."

Sebastian was accustomed to his sister's occasional tirades against the world's injustices and offered no challenge. "Now what was going on with you and Grace-mere?"

"It's the devil of a tangle." She took the reins and told the groom to let go their heads. With a flick of the whip, the bays started off down the street at a brisk trot.

She waited until she had turned through the Stanhope Gate into Hyde Park before telling her brother what she'd learned from Gracemere. Sebastian heard her out in silence, then shook his head in disbelief as he realized the ramifications. "Carrington told you about this broken engagement, then?"

"Yes, before we were married. But he didn't say who the fortune hunter was, and I didn't ask. Sweet heaven, why would it concern me?"

"Of all the damnable coincidences," Sebastian muttered. "It seems as if Gracemere is entwined in every strand of our lives."

"I would like to drive a knife between his ribs," Judith said in a savage undertone, forgetfully dropping her hands so that her horses, momentarily unchecked, plunged forward.

Sebastian watched critically while she brought them under control again. "Do try to restrain yourself," he said. "I'm sure we can bring this off without resorting to murder. Gracemere deserves a lot worse."

Judith smiled grimly. "Anyway, I've decided on my strategy. I'm going to draw him into a plot to defy Marcus. He thinks I'm a silly widgeon who doesn't like being dictated to by her husband, and I'm sure he relishes the idea of conducting a flirtation with the wife of the man he's bested over a woman once before."

"You're playing with fire, my girl," Sebastian observed.

"I'll be careful," she stated with quiet confidence, acknowledging the salute of a group of army officers standing beside the driveway. Her daring equipage and its driver were drawing a fair degree of notice, she thought with satisfaction.

Sebastian also noticed the attention. "I'll lay odds that within a week your phaeton will be all the rage," he said, amused. "Every woman who fancies herself a competent whip will have to have one."

"Marcus, of course, won't give a damn about that," she meditated.

"Well, I believe your moment for convincing him otherwise has arrived." Sebastian gestured toward the pathway, where Marcus stood talking with two friends.

"Ah," Judith said.

15

Peter Wellby saw them first. "Damme, Carrington, isn't that Lady Carrington?"

"She certainly can handle the ribbons," Francis Tal-lent observed admiringly. "I don't believe I've seen a lady driving such a carriage. Driving 'em tandem, too."

Marcus watched as the vehicle approached at a fast trot, Judith very much at home on her precarious perch, her whip at an impeccable angle. Her brother seemed perfectly at his ease beside her, but what the hell did he think he was doing, permitting his sister to behave in such fashion in public? It was the height of vulgarity for a woman to drive a sporting vehicle. But then perhaps the Davenports didn't realize that, given their unschooled and unlicensed upbringing. Marcus struggled to give them die benefit of the doubt.

"She's driving Grantham's bays," Wellby said. "I had no idea he was selling up."

"Davenport obviously has an ear to the ground," Marcus replied casually.

He moved to the edge of the pathway as Judith drew rein. "You move quickly, Sebastian. Half London was waiting to hear Grantham was selling up."

Sebastian laughed. "Handsome, aren't they?"

"Very." He moved to the side of the phaeton and spoke quietly. "I don't know what you think you're doing, Judith. Give your brother back his reins and get down from there."

Brother and sister were smiling at him with a wicked glimmer in their matching eyes.

"They're not Sebastian's reins, Marcus; they're mine. He procured the carriage and horses for me," Judith said. "I'm taking him for a turn around the park."

For a moment Marcus was speechless. "Yield your place, Davenport," he demanded grimly, laying a hand on the step.

"By all means," Sebastian replied with an obliging smile. He jumped to the ground, laying a hand on his brother-in-law's arm in passing. Marcus turned to meet his eye. That mischievous glint was still there.

"Best not to go head to head with her," Sebastian murmured.

"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it," his brother-in-law declared in a savage undertone.

Sebastian, not in the least offended, merely inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Marcus swung himself up beside his wife. "Give me the reins."

"But I'm perfectly able to handle them myself, as you must have seen," Judith responded with an innocent smile.

"Give them to me. "

Judith shrugged and passed them over, together with the whip. "If you wish to try their paces, be my guest."

Marcus ground his teeth, but was forced to mask his fury as best he could under the eyes of his friends, who still stood on the path beside the carriageway. He cracked the thong of the whip, and the leader sprang forward.

"It's unwise to drive a high-couraged pair when one's in a miff," Judith remarked in tones of earnest solicitude as Marcus took the phaeton through the park gates. "Don't you think you shaved the gate a trifle close?"

"Hold your tongue!"

Judith shrugged and sat back, surveying her husband's handling of the reins with a critical eye. Despite his fury, he was perfectly in control of the bays and she decided her jibe had been unnecessary.

The phaeton turned into Berkeley Square and drew up outside the house. "You'll have to alight unassisted," Marcus snapped.

Judith put her head on one side, narrowing her eyes. "If you mean to drive my horses in my absence, it would be only courteous to ask my permission."

Marcus inhaled sharply, his jaw clenched. He kept his eyes straight ahead and spoke almost without expression. "You will go into the house, go to my book room, and wait for me. I will join you there shortly."

Judith alighted from the awkward vehicle with creditable grace and mounted the steps to the house.

Marcus waited until she'd been admitted, then drove around to the mews at the back of the house to leave the carriage and horses. He understood that Judith was once again demonstrating to him that she lived by her own rules. But she was his wife, and if she didn't understand that her disreputable past and unknown lineage made it all the more imperative for her to behave impeccably,

then he was going to have to demonstrate that fact once and for all.

In the hall, Judith paused. She had no intention of obediently going to Marcus's book room like a naughty schoolgirl.

"Gregson, I have a headache. I'm going to rest in my bedchamber. Would you send Millie to me… and I'd like a glass of Madeira."

"Yes, my lady." The butler bowed. "I'll have it sent up immediately."

"Thank you." Judith ran upstairs to her own apartment, where the morning sun poured brilliantly through the long windows, dimming the fire's glow. She went to the window and stared down at the square, tapping her teeth with a fingernail. She was rather looking forward to the next few minutes. It was high time Marcus learned a few things about the wife he had taken on.