Somewhat reassured, she leaned back against the pillows and gazed up at the heavy canopy overhead. It was going to be a very long night.

Not that she didn't have plenty to think about, she told herself. Her life had certainly taken an interesting turn of late. She still could not quite believe that she was engaged to Sebastian. The fact that the engagement was not going to last very long did nothing to diminish her excitement.

She must remember that her relationship with Sebastian was doomed to remain a friendship. He was, after all, an earl and he could certainly look much higher than herself when he finally got around to choosing a wife. He would do his duty by his title and family name, just as Edward had done three years ago.

But she also knew in her heart she was wildly attracted to the Fallen Angel. The sense of deep recognition that she experienced when she was with him was startling in its intensity. It was also infi-nitely more seductive than the far more shallow feelings she had expe­rienced toward Edward.

It would take very little for her to fall in love with Sebastian, Prudence thought. In truth, she suspected she was already in love with him.

Prudence scowled and adjusted the heavy quilt. She must not in­dulge herself in foolish, hopeless, romantic dreams about Sebastian.

Instead she would content herself with savoring the pleasures of an intellectual connection to the only man she had ever met who under­stood and shared her interests.

If she were very fortunate, she thought, suddenly optimistic, such an intellectual connection might continue to exist even after she was obliged to return to Dorset. Perhaps she could correspond with him. He could keep her informed of his investigations. He might be inter­ested in asking her advice on certain topics. She would tell him about her research into spectral phenomena.

Yes, a correspondence might very well be possible. At least until he acquired a wife. Prudence was instantly downcast. Sebastian was very likely to find himself a wife quite soon. He had a certain responsibility, after all.

A small muffled thud snapped Prudence out of her reverie. The soft noise sent a jolt of alarm through her. She sat up against the pillows, straining to listen.

The notion of confronting the ghost alone suddenly seemed some­what more daunting than it had earlier. If she was correct in her suspicions concerning Mrs. Leacock's nephews, she might be in some danger. Prudence wished Sebastian were with her. He would be a very competent assistant in this phase of the investigation.

She peered into the darkness, watching for candlelight beneath the door that connected Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber to the next room. Mrs. Leacock had said that the ghost carried a candle.

Another muted thud made Prudence's pulse race more swiftly. She started to reach for the pistol in the drawer.

She froze when she caught sight of the dark shadow of a man standing on the ledge outside the window. Panic assailed her. Nothing had been said about the ghost entering from that direction.

The window opened abruptly. Cold air swept into the room.

Prudence found her voice. "Who goes there?" She wrenched open the drawer and grabbed the pistol.

The cloaked figure that had been looming outside on the ledge stepped into the room.

"Stop, whoever you are." Prudence pushed aside the covers and scrambled out of bed. She clutched the pistol with both hands.

"I pray you won't use that pistol, my dear," Sebastian said calmly. "Only think of the gossip that would ensue were you to shoot your fiance a day after announcing your engagement."

■ ft

Chapter Six

Allow me to compliment you on your enchanting nightclothes, my dear." Sebastian surveyed the plain woolen gown and muslin cap that Prudence was wearing. "I should have expected that your choice in such garments would be spectacularly original."

"What on earth do you think you're doing, sir?" Prudence slowly lowered the pistol. The moonlight streaming through the window glinted on her spectacles and revealed her strained expression. "You gave me a terrible start. I might have shot you."

"It was a near thing, was it not? My life does seem to be filled with adventure these days. First Thornbridge tries to shoot me and then my fiancee takes aim at my vitals. I am not certain how many of these encounters my nerves can tolerate."

She gave him an annoyed look. "I asked you a question, my lord."

"So you did." Sebastian glanced around the shadowed bedroom, taking in the dark, heavy furnishings and the massive bed. "The an­swer is that I came here tonight in order to give you the benefit of my expertise."

"And what is that supposed to mean, pray tell?"

He smiled slightly at the suspicious tone of her voice. "Isn't it obvious?" He swung his greatcoat off his shoulders and tossed it over a chair. He was wearing only his shirt and breeches beneath it. He had decided a coat and cravat were not called for on such an occasion. "I'm here to help you investigate your newest case of spectral phe­nomena."

"I do not require your assistance, my lord. I thought we agreed this afternoon that we would not work together on our cases."

"As to that," Sebastian said easily, "I've reconsidered the matter."

"You have?" The pale light illuminated the hopeful look on her expressive face. "That is wonderful news."

"It's not as if I had a great deal of choice in the matter," Sebastian muttered under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind." There would be time enough at some later date to explain precisely how their new partnership would work.

It was very simple, really. Sebastian fully intended to supervise Prudence's more adventurous investigations, but he had no intention of letting her risk her neck helping him with his own cases.

Prudence put the pistol on the end table. "How did you find me in this particular bedchamber?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I watched for the last light to be extinguished in this wing."

"Very clever of you." Prudence went to the window and looked down into the gardens. "Good heavens, it is a sheer drop. However did you climb up the wall?"

"I didn't. I entered the house through the kitchens and climbed the stairs to this floor. Then I opened a window in an empty room and discovered that very convenient ledge outside. It led me straight to this bedchamber."

"An excellent approach to the problem, my lord."

"It was nothing, really. A matter of simple logic and reason," Se­bastian said modestly.

"Yes, of course, but I doubt that many people would have thought of that approach."

"Possibly not," he admitted, gratified by her admiration.

It occurred to Sebastian that although he had not given a damn about anyone's opinion since his parents and brother had died, lately he found himself increasingly hungry for Prudence's approval.

She was the only female he knew who was capable of appreciating his peculiar talents and interests. He wondered if she had any notion of how badly he wanted to bed her.

He watched her standing at the window and contemplated the possibility that he was going slightly mad. No woman had ever had such an effect on him. When he was with her the icy barrier inside him seemed much smaller and farther away. He could almost forget it and the emptiness that it concealed.

At that moment Prudence turned her head to look at him. The weak moonlight fell across her features, revealing her glowing smile. Desire swept through Sebastian in a great wave, leaving him shaken.

It had become painfully clear during the past few days that the sensual hunger Prudence had aroused in him that first night was no fleeting fancy.

It was equally clear and profoundly annoying to realize that Pru­dence's interest in him appeared to be inspired primarily by his hobby. He wondered again how much Underbrink had meant to her. He had been gnawing on that question ever since he had returned from the drive in the park that afternoon.