"The feeling is mutual," Sebastian said. "What are you getting at, Curling?"

Curling studied an arrangement of gloves and accessories dis­played in the rounded shop window behind Sebastian. "I hesitate to offer advice to you, of all people, Angelstone. The devil knows you can take care of yourself. Nevertheless, I strongly recommend that you watch your back around Mr. Fleetwood."

Sebastian inclined his head aloofly and stepped off the sidewalk. "As you say, Curling, I can take care of myself."

"A very fortunate circumstance," Curling murmured. "You might begin by taking precautions when you cross the street. I gained the distinct impression from Mr. Fleetwood that he would not mind in the least if a serious accident befell you."

"I'm sure you mistook my cousin's meaning, Curling. I feel certain Fleetwood would never pray that I fall victim to a serious accident. He would much prefer that the accident proved fatal."

Curling smiled. "I see that you do not require any advice from me, sir. You obviously know your cousin very well. Good day to you. Per­haps I shall encounter you and your charming lady this evening at the Hollington ball."

"Perhaps."

Sebastian walked off toward the waiting phaeton. He still had two more establishments to visit before he went home to see if Prudence had had any luck in her inquiries.

Thus far he had learned only one thing of interest. Of the four shops he had visited, three had been eager to secure an order for engraved buttons from him. Only Milway and Gordon had shown no interest in his trade.

Shortly before five o'clock Sebastian handed his wife up into the phaeton and vaulted onto the seat beside her. He slanted her a side­long glance and decided he did not like the expression of barely sup­pressed irritation on her face. It did not bode well. His worst fears were confirmed. She had obviously spent a good portion of the day fretting over last night's argument.

He decided to test the waters. "You are looking very charming in that gown, my dear."

"This old thing?" She glanced disdainfully down at her modestly cut brown muslin gown and dark brown pelisse. "I am surprised you find it attractive on me, my lord. It is hardly in the first stare of fashion."

Sebastian smiled as he turned the horses toward the park. "Since when have you concerned yourself with being fashionable?"

"I feel I have a duty to become more conscious of such matters. Hester is helping me to achieve my goal." She shot him a speculative glance. "We spent a goodly portion of your fortune on my new ward­robe today, sir."

"I hope you enjoyed the process."

Sebastian wondered if Prudence thought a shopping spree consti­tuted sufficient retaliation for what had taken place between them last night. If so, he would consider himself fortunate to have escaped so easily.

He had sent word to her earlier that he expected her to accompany him on a drive in the park this afternoon, but he'd wondered if she would find some excuse to avoid him. Several hours ago when she had made off with the button there had been challenge and cool, feminine resolve in her lovely eyes.

On his way home from Bond Street he had vowed he would not allow her to avoid him. It was very easy for husbands and wives to go their own way here in Town. It was considered fashionable to do so. A man and a woman could live together in the same house and rarely even see each other if they so chose.

Prudence must be made to understand that he did not intend his marriage to turn into such a cold alliance, Sebastian thought. He had married her for her warmth.

He was ruefully aware of the relief he had experienced when Pru­dence had arrived downstairs dressed for the drive. She might be sulking, but she was apparently not going to defy him openly.

But it was equally obvious she was not happy. He decided to try a safe topic.

"Well, madam," he said as he drove into the park, "you have had your opportunity to involve yourself in my investigation today. What did you learn?"

"Not a blasted thing." Prudence seemed to explode with what was obviously pent-up exasperation. "I must say it was extremely discour­aging. Not a single shopkeeper could identify the button. Oh, Sebas­tian, I was so disappointed. My whole day was ruined. Absolutely ruined."

Sebastian stared at her. It finally dawned on him that the reason for her sullen expression had nothing at all to do with last night's scene. Prudence was not angry with him. She was frustrated and an­noyed because her inquiries had led nowhere.

Sebastian knew the feeling all too well.

His spirits soared. He started to smile.

"I am glad you are pleased, my lord," Prudence snapped. "I expect you will gloat for ages. It is really very bad of you."

Sebastian was caught off guard by the manner in which his own mood had become so unexpectedly buoyant. His smile changed into a grin and then he succumbed to laughter.

The occupants of a passing carriage, a couple Sebastian had known for more than a year, stared at him as if they had never seen him before. They were not the only ones who turned their heads at the sight of the Fallen Angel overcome with laughter. "You needn't laugh at me, sir," Prudence muttered. "I assure you, my sweet…" Sebastian struggled to swallow the rest of his jubilant response, "I assure you that I am not laughing at you. How could I? I had no more success than you did." She scowled at him. "You made inquiries, too?"

"Certainly. Of course, I was greatly hampered by the fact that I could not produce the original button. I was forced to rely on a de­tailed description due to the fact that you had absconded with the real thing."

"I did not steal it," Prudence grumbled. "I simply got to it first before you could make off with it."

"An interesting point of view. Nevertheless, I did my best to dis­cover what I could about it. But I came up empty-handed." He hesi­tated, remembering the strange behavior of the shopkeeper at Milway and Gordon, the last establishment on the list. "Although there was one merchant whose reaction interested me."

"Which one was that?" Prudence's frustration vanished in a flash. It was instantly replaced with intense curiosity. "What did he say?"

"It wasn't what he said." Sebastian frowned. "It was the way he brushed aside my questions. Almost as if they made him uneasy. He was the only merchant I interviewed who did not try to persuade me that he could duplicate the button from my description."

"He did not act as if he wanted your trade? How very strange."

"It is, isn't it? I think it might be worth my while to return to his shop later this evening. I'd like to have a look at his records."

"Sebastian, are you actually going to sneak into his shop? How exciting. I will come with you."

Sebastian braced himself for the argument. "No, you will not, Prue. There is entirely too much risk involved."

"You allowed me to accompany you when you explored the black chamber at Curling Castle," she reminded him in a persuasive tone. "I was very helpful to you on that occasion."

"I know, but that was different."

"How was it different?" she demanded.

"For one thing, we were not doing anything for which we could have been arrested and transported or hung," Sebastian said.

"Enough, Prue. You will not accompany me on tonight's investigation, but I promise that I will give you a detailed report when I return."

"Sebastian, I will not allow you to exclude me from this." The cajolery and persuasion vanished from Prudence's voice. She switched to her lecturing tone. "We are a team. I demand equal participation and—" She broke off abruptly and glanced to the side of the carriage. "Oh, hello, Trevor. I didn't know you were going to be riding in the park today."

"Good afternoon, Prue." Trevor guided his bay gelding into step alongside the phaeton. He nodded almost shyly at Sebastian. He looked both expectant and uncertain. "Angelstone."