Sylvester stood for a moment on the threshold of the salon, steeling himself for whatever reception he was about to receive.

Despite his resolution to face up to his first social occasion, in the week since they'd arrived, he'd managed to avoid events like this. He'd escorted his wife to the theater, he'd ridden with her in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour, but he'd not visited any of his clubs, and he'd not accompanied Theo on any of the visits she'd made with her mother as Lady Belmont picked up the threads of her old life, or to the rout party they'd all attended at Carlton House. But he hadn't been able to avoid this afternoon's informal "At Home," designed to introduce the Belmont girls to the most important members of the ton, without offending his mother-in-law and puzzling his wife.

His eyes were hard, his mouth taut, as he looked around the salon, recognizing faces among the older contingent, although most of the young sprigs were unknown to him.

"Stoneridge." Elinor came to greet him, smiling warmly. "I'd almost given you up. You're acquainted with Countess Lieven and Lady Jersey, of course."

"Of course." He bowed to the ladies, receiving a frosty nod from the countess and a smile from Sally Jersey. The chill of the countess's reception didn't trouble him, since it was her customary greeting to all but her intimates.

"And I'm sure you know Lord Wetherby and Sir Robert Bellamy. And I expect Viscount Franklin is an old army colleague." Elinor smilingly indicated the group by the fire, her gesture encompassing the five men she hadn't mentioned by name.

There was a silence. An almost palpable touch of ice in the warm room. Theo stared at the men, who as one swept her husband with a disdainful stare as he bowed, his features carved in granite. He made no attempt to cross toward the group, and not a hand was extended in greeting.

Theo saw the telltale muscle jump in Sylvester's cheek; then he turned and strolled over to the window, where he stood alone, his arms folded, the gray eyes hard as iron, a peculiar twist to his mouth. In astonishment she glanced up at Edward. His expression was stricken. Lord Wetherby suddenly broke the silence, addressing a careless observation to the viscount. A teacup clattered in a saucer.

Without conscious decision Theo marched across the room to the window, the skirt of her cambric driving dress swishing around her ankles. "I don't believe I've made the acquaintance of Viscount Franklin, Stoneridge. Won't you introduce me?" She slipped her hand in his arm, smiling up at him, her eyes brilliant with fiery purpose. She almost pulled him around toward the fire, turning her blazing countenance on the men who'd insulted her husband.

"Do you care for tea, Stoneridge?" Emily's clear tones rang across the room. "Unless you'd prefer claret. I know how you enjoy a glass at this time of day."

"I'll ring for Dennis," Elinor said calmly, reaching for the bell-pull. "Gentlemen, do you share my son-in-law's tastes? Or are you content with tea?" Her smile as she addressed them could have frozen hell's fires.

"Try one of these macaroons." Clarissa snatched up a plate from beneath the wandering hand of Countess Lieven and brought it over to her brother-in-law. "They're your favorites."

He was suddenly surrounded by Belmont women, the center of their attentions, ministering to his needs and his wishes as if he were the sun to their earth. It reminded him of a pride of lionesses protecting an injured cub. Mortification that they should witness his humiliation warred with gratitude. They didn't know what was behind the insulting reception he'd been given, but it seemed they didn't care.

"Viscount Franklin, were you also in the Peninsula?" Theo addressed the viscount, her arm securely linked in Sylvester's. The viscount, an upstanding gentleman of some thirty-eight summers, resplendent in his regimentals, quailed before the rage in the young countess's purple eyes. Her little white teeth flashed in her sun-dappled face, but it was the smile of a shark closing in on her prey.

Viscount Franklin had fought all his military battles in the political corridors of Horseguards and had never faced an enemy on a battlefield. He cleared his throat, and his booted feet shifted on the carpet. "As it happens, I haven't had the good fortune to serve overseas, countess."

"Oh, really." Theo raised an eyebrow. "Good fortune seems an odd choice of words, sir. I'm sure my husband and Lieutenant Fairfax would describe it differently." Her predator's smile swept the rest of the group. Edward, who'd moved from his perch to stand beside Stoneridge in his own gesture of solidarity, looked embarrassed and muttered something about the honor of his country.

Not a flicker crossed Stoneridge's impassive expression, but the irony of the situation struck him with full force. Theo had no idea what lay behind this ostracism, yet in her eagerness to defend him, she'd hit the target full square.

The viscount seemed at a loss as to how to respondto the countess's dripping sarcasm. His eyes drifted involuntarily to Edward's empty sleeve, the slashing scar across Lord Stoneridge's forehead.

Lord Wetherby broke the uncomfortable pause. "I understand you've acquired Melton's breakdowns, Stoneridge," he said stiffly.

Sylvester didn't bat an eyelid. "Yes, for a steal." He took a glass of claret from the tray that had miraculously appeared at his elbow. "But I'm also looking for a well-mannered pair for Lady Stoneridge to drive." He glanced down at Theo, who, having achieved what she'd set out to achieve, was looking pensive. Her hand was still firmly tucked into his arm, however, and he had the conviction she wasn't about to abandon him to the wolves again. Just in case he couldn't defend himself.

"Are you going to drive yourself about town, Theo?" Edward said, moving the conversation along general lines.

"Stoneridge has agreed to acquire a curricle for me," Theo responded. Her gaze swept the circle with a distinct challenge. "I trust that doesn't shock you, gentlemen?"

"You're to be commended for your skill, ma'am." Sir Robert bowed.

"Well, I trust I shan't overturn it," she returned, her smile now mischievous, bearing no relation to the fire and ice of a minute ago.

"If there was the slightest danger of that, my love, you wouldn't be driving it," Sylvester said blandly. "But I have complete faith in your ability… to do anything you set your mind to," he added, and a glint of humor touched his hard expression.

Before Theo could respond, a piercing voice behind them announced, "Stoneridge, there's something I most particularly wish to remind you about."

"Rosie, whatever are you doing here?" Startled, Theo turned to her little sister, who was regarding the earl intently from behind her glasses. A hair ribbon had come undone, her muslin dress had grass stains on it, and she was holding a jam jar, the palm of one hand carefully over the opening, presumably to prevent whatever it contained from escaping.

"I've just come back from the square garden with Flossie. We were gathering specimens, and Dennis told me you and Stoneridge were here," Rosie explained earnestly. "And I thought I'd take the opportunity to remind him that he'd promised to take me to Astley's at the earliest possible chance. I was wondering when that would be." Her round eyes remained fixed unwaveringly on her brother-in-law.

Sylvester laughed, and a ripple of amusement ran around the circle by the fire.

"Rosie!" Elinor had just noticed her youngest child's unconventional arrival and came hurrying across the room. "You're not supposed to be in the drawing room this afternoon. Look at you." She gestured in some chagrin to the child's appearance. "And whatever have you got in that jar?"

"Don't ask, ma'am," Sylvester said, still chuckling. "But I beg you to excuse her – she had a most urgent question for me."