'And then I implied that you were on the catch for a rich husband because the family was much in need of funds, hinted at some scandalous reason why that was so and had a sudden attack of discretion. I stopped at the most intriguing point, trust me. He must think you a family of hardened gamesters at the very least.'

'Wonderful. Much more of that and I will not need to worry about convincing Papa of Lord Danescroft's unsuitability-he will not consider proposing to me for a minute.'

'I know.' Rowan permitted herself a moment's smugness, then caught sight of the clock. 'Goodness! Look at the time-and we both have to change.'

'Apparently she is devoted to her stepmother.' Lucas stood back and eyed Will critically, clothes brush in hand. 'What the devil have you done to that neckcloth?'

'It's a Waterfall.'

'It's a mess. Here, let me. Sit down again.' A minute passed, the silence broken only by the Earl protesting faintly that he was being strangled and Lucas's crushing remarks on the quality of the starch in the muslin. 'There.'

'Hmm. I'm not convinced, but I refuse to go through that again. Really? Devoted, you say?'

'By the sound of it she is as much a trial at home as she is in Society. Apparently Miss Penelope will want her to live with her once she is married.'

'Over my dead body. You've been very busy.'

'A pleasure, I assure you. Miss Maylin has a most superior Abigail, with a straight little nose, big hazel eyes and a crushing way with flirtation. I am, let me tell you, a libertine.'

The warmth that he had discerned in Will's eyes vanished. 'It is no doubt the general assumption that I employ such men.'

There was not a great deal to be said to that. Lucas lifted a waistcoat and held it out for Will to shrug into. 'She also let slip that her mistress is on the hunt for a wealthy match.'

'We knew that.' Will stuck a cravat pin into the folds of his neckcloth and pushed his watch into the fob pocket.