"That just goes to show how little you know," she said scornfully. "My grandfather knew every one of his tenants and all their families -"

"I am not your grandfather," he interrupted. "Trust comes from respect and the knowledge that the lord of the manor has their best interests at heart, even if they don't always agree with his methods. It's not necessary to joke and gossip with every milkmaid and stable hand in the district. And I tell you, now, Theo, you are going to have to curb your free and easy ways once we're married. It's not appropriate for the Countess of Stoneridge to behave as you do."

"How would you know what's appropriate?" she demanded with icy scorn. "If my grandfather didn't consider it inappropriate, what makes you think you might know better? You've no experience of running an estate. My grandfather always said the Gilbraith estate was another Lilliput. You can't learn to manage tenants if you don't have them, my lord. I suggest you leave well alone what you don't understand."

She was only vaguely aware that her tongue had run away with her. Criticism of her grandfather on top of the insults to loyal Belmont people were not to be borne, and she'd jumped to the defense with blind passion.

But her angry, contemptuous words fell into a dreadful silence. The earl's fingers tightened around the reins, his knuckles whitening, but he said not a word until they reached the stableyard, Zeus now wearied and docile, his injured back bleeding sluggishly.

Stoneridge sprang to the ground and bellowed for the head groom. The man ran across, quailing at the earl's naked fury. His expression, when he saw the damage to Zeus, was so outraged that no one could believe he bore any responsibility for the wounds. The earl issued rapid-fire orders for the treatment of his horse and the retrieval of the saddles; then he swung back to Theo.

She had not yet dismounted and was still foolishly considering that she'd had the last word, when he came to the mare's head, his hand on the bridle.

"Dismount," he commanded in a low voice.

Theo looked down into his face and realized with a shock that she had never seen such a blazingly angry countenance. The scar on his forehead stood out, a white ridged line; a muscle twitched in his cheek, and there was a white shade around the chiseled mouth. He looked quite capable of murder. Her insulting words and the derisory tone now replayed with dismaying accuracy in her head.

"I will tell you just once more," he said as softly. "Dismount now. Or this stableyard is going to witness a spectacle that will live in memory for years to come."

Theo swallowed and swung herself off Dulcie. Her feet had no sooner touched the cobbles than the cold silver knob of the earl's riding crop jabbed into the small of her back, and she was thrust toward the exit of the yard. She had no choice but to obey the pressure if she was not to draw unwelcome attention to this forced march toward the house.

She tried to believe that she'd been justified in her attack, but she knew she'd chosen the most insolent and unforgivable words. Her cursed tongue had taken the high road again, she recognized dismally, and Sylvester Gilbraith was not a man to turn the other cheek to an insufferable insult.

They turned onto the gravel sweep before the house. A post chaise was drawn up before the front steps, and suddenly the cold jab of the riding crop left her back. Sylvester stopped on the driveway and took a deep breath.

Without volition Theo looked inquiringly over her shoulder, sensing the current of tension in him, something that had nothing to do with his anger with her.

"I'll have to see to you later," he said almost absently. "It looks as if my mother and sister have arrived."

Theo felt a surge of relief at the reprieve. With any luck so much would be happening in the next few hours that his anger would at least be blunted.

Sylvester walked swiftly toward the chaise, leaving Theo to follow. He'd been dreading this arrival. His mother was a difficult woman at best, an overbearing witch at worst; his sister, a middle-aged and embittered spinster, bullied unmercifully by Lady Gilbraith. What either of them would make of his bride-to-be, he couldn't imagine. He sensed that Lady Belmont had a vein of steel in her that would make her more than a match for his mother, but the next few days were going to be uncomfortable if not downright hideous.

Lady Gilbraith was descending from the chaise as her son arrived. "Ah, Sylvester, there you are." She took his proffered hand as she stepped onto the gravel. "I could wish you'd had the courtesy to come for us. The roads are lawless."

"You have six outriders, ma'am," he said, raising her hand to his lips. "Much more useful than one son."

"Oh, Mama, don't forget your sal volatile," a high voice exclaimed as a bonneted head appeared in the door of the chaise.

"And your reticule."

"Mary, I bid you welcome." He extended a hand to help a round lady in an alpaca cloak. "I trust the journey wasn't too arduous."

"Oh, the inn where we stayed last night was dreadful," Mary said. "The sheets were damp, and I'm sure Mama will have the ague."

"I was under the impression that Mama always travels with her own sheets," her brother said.

"That's true, of course, but it was most dreadfully draughty. The windows didn't fit properly, and I'm certain the mattress was damp." She dabbed at a reddened nose with her handkerchief.

Since Sylvester knew that his sister was afflicted with a permanently red and dripping nose, he made no comment, turning instead to look for Theo, who was standing at a little distance, hands clasped in front of her, a tentative smile on her face.

A picture of conciliation, he thought, half-amused despite his very real anger.

"Theo, let me make you known to my mother," he said, beckoning her forward, keeping his voice deliberately cool, his mouth unsmiling.

Not promising, Theo thought, coming forward. Maybe if she charmed his mother and sister, he'd be inclined to forget her earlier offense.

"Lady Gilbraith." She bowed, and extended her hand, smiling. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance."

Lady Gilbraith ignored the hand, raised her lorgnette, and examined her. "Goodness me, what a brown creature you are," she declared. "It's most unfashionable. I'm surprised your mother should allow you to run around in the sun and ruin your complexion in that fashion."

She was not going to like her mother-in-law! And that, Theo reflected, was the understatement of the year. But she would demonstrate to Sylvester that she could behave with impeccable courtesy, despite provocation.

"I have a dark complexion, ma'am," she said. "I take after my father. My sisters are much fairer."

She glanced up at Sylvester and saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes. "Theo, this is my sister, Mary."

Mary sniffed and shook hands. "Theo? What a strange name. You must mean Thea, surely."

"No," Theo said. "I have always been called Theo. It was my father's name for me."

"How very strange." Another sniff accompanied the comment. "Mama, we should go inside. The air feels very damp."

Lady Gilbraith surveyed the gracious Elizabethan facade with a critically proprietorial air that sorely tested Theo's resolution. "Quite a handsome house, I suppose. But these half-timbered buildings can be abysmally cramped inside."

"I don't believe you will find Stoneridge Manor cramped, ma'am," Theo said stiffly. "It's generally considered to be a most spacious example of Elizabethan architecture."

"We shall see," her future mother-in-law stated in a tone that indicated she didn't believe a word of it. "Gilbraith House is a most elegant gentleman's residence. I trust my son will not find his inheritance lacking in any of the amenities." She sailed toward the steps, her daughter at her heels.