"We will come back tomorrow, Meggie, to order up more gowns for you and to have your ball gown fitted. This is just the beginning. Tomorrow evening you will look like a princess for the Ranleigh ball." He said to Madame, "Her coming-out ball will be in two weeks. I want something very special for her that night."

"I will find it," Madame said comfortably, and if Meggie wasn't mistaken-and she wasn't since she'd seen the same look many times in Mary Rose's eyes-there was a gleam of pure lust in Madame's fine dark eyes as she watched Uncle Douglas leave her shop.

"She, er, really appreciates you, Uncle Douglas."

A dark eyebrow went up. "You are eighteen, Meggie, a vicar's daughter. What do you know of men and women sorts of things?"

She laughed. "I live with my father and Mary Rose. Those two-they laugh and hug and sneak kisses when they think they're alone, which they never are in the vicarage. What's more, Rory came into my bedroom two weeks ago, afraid because he'd heard his mother yelling. I am not an idiot, Uncle Douglas."

"Your father is a very happy man," was all that Douglas would say to that revelation. Then, later, he laughed and said, "Ah, I would like to hear some day how you dealt with little Rory's concern. Now, Meggie, I have something to say to you. You will enjoy yourself here in London. You aren't hunting for a husband, just having fun. There is no pressure on you to attach some idiot gentleman. That's all your grandmother's idea, not ours. Your father is in complete agreement. Also, you are something of an heiress, so there will be some men drooling on your slippers in hopes of attaching you. You will be careful of any man who goes over the line. Do you understand?"