"What kind of a gull d'you think me?" he said. When she still stood staring at the floor, he said impatiently, "If you're willing, get on the bed, girl. If you're not, get out of here."

The girl took a hesitant step to the bed, then lay down, closing her eyes tightly.

Neil threw off his robe and clambered over her. She shuddered as he pushed up her apron and petticoat. She was wearing no undergarments. It took him no more than a minute to realize she'd been telling the truth about her virginity. It increased his pleasure significantly, and when he'd finished with her, he took another coin from the dresser and tossed it to her as she limped from the room, weeping softly.

Considering that he'd been more than generous, he went back to bed, feeling sufficiently relaxed to return to sleep.

Later in the day he would leave this miserable place and resume the life of Captain Neil Gerard of Half Moon Street. An eligible bachelor of good though untitled family, with a respectable fortune and a starred army career.

He'd approach the problem of Sylvester Gilbraith from another angle. With the hand of friendship.

Chapter Twenty

"The Honorable Mrs. Lacey and Mr. Jonathan Lacey, Lady Theo," Foster announced the next morning from the drawing-room door.

"There, Clarry, I told you they would call," Theo said. "Show them up, Foster."

"Oh, this is so embarrassing," Clarissa said, dropping the skein of wool she was holding for Emily to roll. "Can you imagine what Mama would say if she knew what you'd done?"

"She'd say it was vulgar," Theo replied cheerfully. "But she's not going to know, is she?"

"Not unless Rosie lets something slip," Emily observed, bending to pick up the dropped wool.

Theo was on her feet, turned toward the door when Foster opened it and announced their guests.

"Mrs. Lacey, how good of you to call." She crossed the room, her hand outstretched. "And Mr. Lacey. I'm so happy to see you. Such a silly mistake of mine at the Pantheon, but I trust we can turn it to good purpose and become friends."

A strangled sound came from behind her, and Emily swiftly moved in front of the stricken Clarissa.

"Allow me to present my sisters," Theo said with complete composure. "Lady Emily Belmont."

Emily was as composed as her sister as she greeted the visitors, and by the time the courtesies had been exchanged, Clarissa was sufficiently mistress of herself to rise and be introduced.

Jonathan Lacey bowed over her hand. He was a very beautiful young man, Theo reflected, golden and willowy, but lacking steel. For her own tastes she preferred a man with steel to him – which was fortunate, since that was what the fates had given her.

But a Sylvester Gilbraith wouldn't do for Clarissa. She was glowing at the young man, who in his turn was gazing at her as if he'd never seen a woman before.

"You'll take tea, ma'am?" She pulled the bellrope and ushered her visitor to a seat on the sofa beside her. "Have you been in town long?"

The Honorable Mrs. Lacey launched into a long discourse on her recent widowhood, on the excellent Honorable John Lacey, a clergyman and the younger son of Lord Lacey, who'd wished most fervently that his only child would follow him to Balliol and into the ministry. But it seemed that Jonathan had other talents. Artistic talents. He was a very fine painter, and people had shown a great interest in his portraits.

"Indeed," murmured Theo, pouring tea.

Emily took over the conversation with an aptitude for small talk that her sister lacked. "Herefordshire is a very pretty county, I've heard, Mrs. Lacey."

The Honorable Mrs. Lacey began to expatiate on all the glories of the Herefordshire countryside, while lamenting the need to be in London, but it was necessary if dear Jonathan was to move in the circles where he might acquire commissions for his portraits.

Theo glanced across at Clarissa and Jonathan Lacey. They were sitting decorously apart on the chaise longue, but talking earnestly.

Stoneridge should commission a portrait of Clarissa, Theo decided. And then realized that that would look most peculiar. He'd have to commission one of herself, and then Clarissa could keep her company during the sittings… Sittings! The very word filled her with horror. Hours and hours of sitting still while Clarry and her knight courted. No, sisterly love could only go so far. There had to be another way.

The sound of running feet came from the corridor outside the drawing room, and the door burst open to admit a breathless Rosie. "Theo, there is a book on spiders I most particularly wish to purchase in Hatchard's. But I have no pin money left, so could you lend me three shillings, please? Then Flossie and I can buy it immediately."

"Why do you need to buy it immediately?"

"Because it's the only copy, and someone else might snap it up."

"A book on spiders? 1 hadn't realized it was such a popular subject."

"Oh, Theo, please!"

"Rosie, where are your manners?" Emily chided, beckoning the child. "These are Theo's guests. Mrs. Lacey and Mr. Jonathan Lacey."

"How do you do?" Rosie said, offering a creditable bow. And then she frowned, and her sisters saw enlightened memory flash across her face. "Oh, aren't you -"

"Excuse me a minute, Mrs. Lacey." Theo rose swiftly. "I must find Rosie her three shillings." Before the child could say anything else, Theo had hustled her outside. "You mustn't say anything about the Pantheon, Rosie. Do you understand?"

"I wasn't going to. I was just going to ask if he was Clarry's knight."

"Well, he is, so you won't need to ask again."

"Why the whispered conference?" Sylvester appeared on the top stair from the hall.

"Oh, just family business," Theo said. "Could you find Rosie three shillings for Hatchard's, Sylvester? I have visitors."

"I'll pay you back, Stoneridge," Rosie said. "As soon as I have next month's pin money, only I find myself a little short this month."

"Oh, I believe an IOU will be satisfactory," Sylvester said solemnly. "What's the book?"

The question elicited a minute description of the book in question, to which her brother-in-law listened with every appearance of interest. He produced the required sum from his pocket, and Rosie, calling vociferous thanks, hurtled down the stairs to the hall, where her maid was waiting for her.

"Who are the visitors?" Sylvester turned back to Theo.

"Ah," she said, with a smug smile. "My friends from the Pantheon. It's a most lucky coincidence that Clarissa and Emily happen to be here too this afternoon. I think you should meet the Honorable Mrs. Lacey and cast a kind eye upon Mr. Jonathan. Maybe you could put him up for your clubs… or advise him on his coats. You know, the sort of things that men do for each other."

Even as she said it, she realized her mistake. If Sylvester was not accepted in those circles himself, he could hardly help Jonathan. "Well, maybe that would be a dreadful nuisance," she said hastily. "But at least come and meet them so it looks as if you approve of their being here."

Sylvester had read her mind as clearly as if she'd spoken aloud. He didn't know whether her swift retraction was harder to bear than the reason behind it.

Theo's eyes were on him, and he knew the grimness of his thoughts was in his face. He struggled with himself for a minute, then said with an assumption of lightheartedness, "You are a matchmaking hussy."

Relief flickered across her countenance, and she said in mock protest, "But it's for Clarry. It's family. Don't Gilbraiths ever put themselves out for family?"

Not often, Sylvester was obliged to admit. The Belmont clan, however, shared a unique closeness.

"Be a Belmont for once," Theo urged. "Clarry's knight is a portrait painter, and he's going to need introductions if he's to get commissions. We could take him up."