The door of the drawing room opened before Prudence could think of a suitable reply.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

Prudence looked up as Trevor made his entrance into the room with the swaggering, elaborately casual style he had painstakingly learned from his newfound friends.

Everything Trevor did lately was done with that peculiar style. It was getting a bit wearing, Prudence decided.

Her younger brother had turned overnight into a young blood of the ton. From the top of his intricately tied cravat to his padded coat, striped waistcoat, and snug pantaloons, Trevor was the very glass of fashion. He had taken to carrying a cane and had an enormous num­ber of decorative seals dangling from the fob of his watch.

As irritating as some of his new mannerisms could be on occasion, Prudence was nevertheless very fond of Trevor. She told herself he was merely a high-spirited young man who would do very well once he had settled down a bit and matured.

Her younger brother was also a fine-looking young man, she thought proudly. He had no real need of the padding in his jacket. His hair was the same honey-colored shade as hers was. Trevor had inher­ited their mother's excellent blue eyes, rather than their father's green ones. He had no need of spectacles, although he had experimented briefly with a monocle last week. He had dropped the affectation when he discovered it was too difficult to keep the glass in place.

Prudence worried sometimes that Trevor would not want to return to the quiet life of a country squire after having been introduced to the pleasures of Town.

And, if she were honest with herself, Prudence thought, she had to admit that Trevor was not the only one who might be a bit bored in the country now. She had found life in London far more exciting and more intriguing than she had expected.

It was not the endless round of balls and soirees that fascinated her, but the endless array of bookshops, museums, and the like. Here in Town she could research spectral phenomena far more thoroughly than she could at home. She also stood a much greater chance of encountering people who would need her special investigation skills.

"Hello, Trevor," Prudence said.

"Good afternoon." Hester picked up the pot. "Will you have tea?"

"With pleasure." Trevor came forward eagerly. "Wait until I tell you my news."

"We are all ears, dear," Hester murmured.

"You are not going to believe this." Trevor preened as he accepted the cup and saucer. "But I, Trevor Merryweather, wrung an apology out of the devil himself, by God."

Hester blinked. "Did you really?"

"I certainly did." Trevor turned proudly to Prudence. "Angelstone won't bother you again, Prue. You may depend upon it. Made the bastard apologize for insulting you. Whole world knows it, too. He had one of his seconds convey his apologies to me right there in my club where all my friends could hear him."

Prudence glared at Trevor as he sprawled in one of Hester's deli­cate satinwood chairs. "For the last time, Trevor, I was not insulted by Angelstone. He behaved himself quite properly. There was absolutely nothing about his manner on the dance floor that gave offense."

"Man's got a reputation." Trevor helped himself to a small cake off the tea tray. "You wouldn't know about it, of course. Not the sort of thing a lady should know about. Point is, he certainly ain't the type you want hanging about. Everybody agrees he don't have anything respectable in mind when he starts paying attention to a female."

"For goodness' sake," Prue said. "Name me one female Angel­stone is said to have ruined. Just one."

Trevor scowled. "Good lord. Surely you don't expect me to discuss that sort of gossip with you."

"Yes, I do. If I'm being warned off, I want to know precisely why. Who was his last innocent victim?"

"If he ain't had a victim this Season it's only because respectable families are keeping their daughters out of his reach."

"I want a name," Prue said evenly.

Trevor glowered at her and then appealed to Hester for support. "I've a hunch you're more conversant with that sort of tale than I am. Give Prue a name. Perhaps it will convince her she's playing with fire when she accepts a dance with Angelstone."

"A name?" Hester tapped her chin with her forefinger and studied the ceiling for a moment. "Well, his name was linked with that of Lady Charlesworthy at one time, I understand, but that was last Season and the lady is a rather notorious widow in her own right. I'm not sure she counts as an innocent victim, if you see what I mean. In any event, I'm told that affair ended some time ago."

"What happened?" Prudence asked, deeply curious in spite of her­self.

"The on dit is that Lady Charlesworthy made the mistake of trying to incite the Fallen Angel's jealousy," Hester said. "She gave her fa­vors to another. There are rumors that a duel was fought."

Trevor frowned. "A duel?"

Hester nodded. "Apparently Angelstone wounded his opponent, but did not kill him. They say the Fallen Angel left the dueling field and went straight to the lady's house. The story has it he went upstairs to her bedchamber and awakened her personally just to tell her that their affair was over."

Prudence shivered. She could well imagine that Angelstone would have been made coldly furious by Lady Charlesworthy's tactics. "You're quite right, Hester. Lady Charlesworthy does not count as an innocent victim. It was very unkind of her to try to make Angelstone jealous."

"Unkind?" Hester gave Prudence an amused glance. "I expect the poor lady was desperate for some indications of warmth from Angel­stone. They say he is made of ice."

"Nonsense. Back to the matter of a name. We're looking for genu­ine, innocent victims here," Prudence said. "Can you think of even one young woman who was ruined by Angelstone?"

Hester raised a brow. "Actually, no. I can't. Now that I think of it, from what I hear, Angelstone tends to pass over the fledglings in favor of the more worldly sort of female."

Trevor was irate. "The man's got a reputation, I tell you. Everyone knows it."

"Not for ruining innocent young women, apparently," Prudence said. "So you will in future kindly refrain from interfering in my social affairs, do you comprehend me, Trevor?"

"Now, see here," Trevor shot back, "I'm your brother. Got a re­sponsibility toward you."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Don't be so certain of that. Truth is, you don't know that much about men, Prue. You ain't a good judge of ‘em. Keep in mind what happened three years ago."

Hester clapped loudly for attention. "Enough, my dears. If you wish to wrangle, you may do so someplace other than my drawing room. We have other business to attend to."

"What other business?" Prudence asked, more than willing to change the topic.

Hester chuckled. "Why, the little matter of deciding which invita­tions we shall be accepting this week. Prudence, my dear, you are very much in demand. We shall have a busy time of it, I fear." Hester reached for a silver tray littered with cards. "Now, then, let's go through this little lot. Can you believe that all of these arrived just today? I don't think we can possibly manage to squeeze in every­thing."

"You make the selections," Prudence said. "I don't really care which parties we attend. They all seem the same, somehow. The rooms are too crowded and too hot and there is so much noise it is difficult to converse."

"One must make sacrifices when one is moving in Society." Hester picked up a card. "Ah, yes, we shall most definitely put in an appear­ance at the Thornbridges' ball. The new Lady Thornbridge is causing talk."

Trevor swallowed his cake, looking interested. "How's that?"

Hester gave him a knowing smile. "She's quite a bit younger than her lord. And very beautiful. Word has it Thornbridge is mad with jealousy these days. Should be interesting to see if there will be a scene or two at their ball."