"At least that's not so lethal."

"Oh, he never actually killed anyone on the field of honor, at least not that I recall hearing about. It's the angry challenger who usually tries to kill his opponent."

"Anthony used to ask his opponents where they would like to receive their wounds," Roslynn put in. "A question like that really undermines a chap's confidence."

Regina giggled. "But who do you think he picked that habit up from?"

"James?"

"The very one."

Georgina was beginning to wish she hadn't started this. "But you still haven't really answered my question."

"It's all part and parcel, m'dear. By the time Uncle James moved to London, he was already a disreputable rakehell. But he no longer chased everything in skirts, because he didn't have to. By then, they were chasing him. And most of the women throwing themselves at him were married women."

"I think I'm beginning to understand," Georgina said.

"I thought you would. Most every challenge issued to him was quite legitimate, all from husbands. The irony is, James might have taken what was offered, but he never kissed and told. Those batty women were so impressed with him—well, he was a devilish handsome man when he was younger, too—that they did the bragging if he so much as looked at them. So it stands to reason that he wouldn't have much respect for the married state, seeing firsthand nothing but constant infidelities."

"Which he contributed to," Georgina said a bit testily.

"No one can deny that." Regina grinned. "He was, after all, the most notorious rake in London. He even put Tony to shame, and Tony was quite scandalous himself in his day."

"I'll thank you to leave Anthony out of this," Roslynn said. "He's a totally reformed rake."

"Well, so is my Nicholas, I'll have you know. But as for Uncle James, after so many years of seeing only

the worst side of marriage, it was no wonder he despised the hypocrisy of it, and unfaithful wives in particular, with which the ton abounds. He swore he'd never have one of his own, and we all thought he meant it."

"I'm sure he did mean it. He didn't ask to marry me, after all."

Regina didn't question that. She'd already been told that James had been forced to marry, and by James himself—before Anthony could. But she did question the "forced" part.

"I have to wonder about that, Georgie," she said thoughtfully. "You just don't know my Uncle James—"

"But that's what you're doing, telling me about him. It's rare that I get anything of a personal nature out of him, after all. Is there anything else you think I ought to know?"

"Well, the fact that the family disowned him for a while might come up tonight. He was gone from England for about ten years during that time. 'Course, he's reinstated now. I don't suppose he told you about any of that?"

"No."

"Well, that's one subject that you'll have to ask him about, since it's not my place to say—"

"That he was the infamous Captain Hawke?"

Regina's eyes flared. "So he did tell you?"

"No, he admitted it to my brothers, after they'd recognized him. I suppose you could say it was the worst luck that two of them happened to meet up with James on the high seas before he retired from pirating."

Regina gasped, "You mean your brothers all knew? Good Lord, it's lucky they didn't hang him!"

"Oh, they wanted to, at least Warren did," Georgina said in disgust. "But James was so full of confessions that night, he deserved hanging."

"And how is it. . .he didn't hang?" Regina asked carefully.

"He escaped."

"With your help?"

"Well I couldn't let Warren have his way, just because he was furious at James because of me. He's a womanizer himself, that hypocrite."

"Well, all's well that ends well, as the saying goes," Roslynn said, and got a snort out of Regina.

"It doesn't sound like all's well to me, not when Uncle James has her whole family against him."

"Come now, Reggie, you don't really think he's going to let a little thing like that bother him, do you?

Particularly when he's here and they're a whole ocean away. When he's ready, I'm sure he'll make it up with them, for Georgie's sake."

"James?"

Roslynn's rich chuckle filled the room at Regina's exaggerated incredulity. "Perhaps you're right. He's a man who doesn't go out of his way to forgive or forget. Your poor husband has learned that firsthand, hasn't he?"

"Don't remind me. And I'm sure Nicholas is going to quite enjoy getting in a few digs tonight, especially if he hears that James married under the same circumstances as Nicholas married me." At Georgina's questioning look, she added, "Your husband was not the only one who got shoved up to the altar. In Nicholas's case, it took a little blackmail, a little bribery, and of course Tony praying he'd refuse so he could cut Nicholas into little pieces."

"And James?"

"Oh, he wasn't part of that. We didn't even know he was back in England yet. But as it happens, my husband also clashed with Captain Hawke on the high seas at one time. So if they appear to be mortal enemies tonight, think nothing of it."

At that Georgina burst into laughter.

Chapter Forty-three

Despite the fact that this was to be no more than a family gathering, Georgina discovered that such events were still quite formal affairs here when Regina produced a sparkling evening gown for her to wear. The rich brown material shimmered so, it looked like polished bronze, and with the bodice overlaid with sequined tulle, Georgina really did sparkle in the lovely creation. At any rate, she was delighted with it. Having been condemned to pastels for so long, she was eager for the darker, matronly colors it was now acceptable for her to wear. In fact, she had chosen nothing but bold, vibrant colors for the wardrobe she had ordered earlier.

Coming downstairs later, they met the men of the household in the parlor, finding they had done themselves up just as grandly. Anthony was unfashionably all in black, except for the pristine whiteness of his carelessly tied cravat. James was sporting a satin coat for the occasion, but in an emerald-green so dark it could not in any way be called dandyish. And what that color did for his eyes! They appeared like jewels with fire captured at their center, lighting them to a more vivid, brilliant green that fairly glowed.

And Jeremy, that scamp, was a dandy personified in a glaringly cardinal-red coat, with godawful chartreuse knee-breeches, a combination that, Regina told Georgina in a side whisper, was being worn

just to annoy his father.

Conrad Sharpe was also present, not surprising since James and Jeremy both considered him family.

Georgina had never seen him done up formally before, though, even to the point of having shaved off his sea beard. But likewise, this was the first time he was seeing her in anything other than her boy's togs, and it was too much to hope that he might overlook that fact.

"Well, Good God, George, you haven't misplaced your breeches, have you?"

"Very funny," she mumbled.

While Connie and Anthony chuckled, and James just stared at her deeply scooped decolletage, Regina remarked, "For shame, Connie. That's not the way you compliment a lady."

"So you've already championed her, little squirt?" he said, drawing her close for a hug. "Well, sheathe your claws. George here don't need flattery any more than you do, or protection, for that matter.

Besides, it ain't safe to compliment her when her husband's around."

James ignored that bit of foolery to tell his niece, "Since I know that must be one of your ensembles, sweet, I have to say you're wearing your bodices too low these days."

"Nicholas doesn't mind." The girl grinned.

''That wastrel wouldn't.''

"Oh, famous. He's not even here yet, and you're already starting on him," and she moved off in a huff to greet Jeremy.

But when James's eyes came back to Georgina, particularly to her bodice, she was so reminded of a similar scene that she said, "If my brothers were here they would make some ridiculous remark right about now, like I ought to change into something less revealing. You wouldn't by any chance be thinking

the same thing?"

"And agree with them? God forbid!"

With a teasing grin, Connie said to Anthony, "D'you get the feeling he don't like her brothers?"

"I can't imagine why," Anthony replied, straight-faced. "After what you told me about 'em, they sound like such enterprising chaps."

"Tony ..." James warned, but Anthony had held his laughter in too long.

"Locked in a cellar!" he hooted. "By God, I wish I could've seen it, indeed I do."

If James hadn't heard enough, Georgina had. "My brothers, the lot of them, happen to be as big or bigger than yourself, Sir Anthony. You wouldn't have fared any better against them, I assure you," she said and then marched off to join Regina across the room.

Anthony, if not put in his place, was at least surprised. "Well, damn me, I do believe the chit just defended you, James."

James merely smiled, but Roslynn, who'd listened to her husband with growing exasperation, said, "If you don't stop ribbing him in front of her, she's liable to do more than that. And if she doesn't, I might,"

and the last lady deserted them.

Connie chuckled at Anthony's changed expression, which was chagrined now. He nudged James to have a look. "If he's not careful, he might be sleeping with the dogs again."

"You may be right, old man," James replied. "So let's not discourage him."

Connie shrugged. "If you can bear it, it's no skin off my back."

"I can bloody well put up with anything for the desired results."

"I suppose you can, even getting locked in cellars."

"I heard that!" Anthony interjected. "So I had the right of it. There was motive to your madness—"

"Oh, shut up, Tony."

It wasn't much longer before the elders arrived, as James and Anthony liked to refer to their older brothers. Jason Malory, the third marquis of Haverston and head of the family, was a surprise to Georgina. She'd been told he was forty-six, and indeed, he merely looked a slightly older version of James. But right there the similarities ended. While James had his droll charm, his abnormal sense of humor, and his devilishly sensual smiles, Jason was sobriety itself. And she had thought her brother Clinton was too serious-minded. Jason put him to shame, and worse, she'd been told all that grimness came with a hot temper that was more often than not directed at his younger brothers. Of course, she'd also been told, and had no reason to doubt it if James and Anthony were any indication, that the Malory brothers were happiest when they were arguing among themselves.

Edward Malory, now, was unlike any of the other three. A year younger than Jason, he was stockier than Jason and James, though he had the same blond hair and green eyes. Nothing seemed to be able to mar his joviality. He could banter with the rest of them, but good-humoredly. In fact, like her brother Thomas, he seemed totally lacking in temper.

And when James dropped the news on them? Well, at least their disbelief didn't last nearly as long as Anthony's.

"I had doubts that Tony would ever settle down, but James? Good God, he was a lost cause," Jason commented.

"I'm amazed, James," Edward said, "but of course delighted, absolutely delighted."

Georgina couldn't doubt her welcome into the family. Both older brothers looked at her as if she were a miracle worker. Of course, they hadn't been told yet the rest of the circumstances of her marriage, and Anthony, for once, kept his mouth shut. But she couldn't help wondering why James was letting them all think that everything was swell-dandy-fine.

It would be rather awkward for him to explain if he sent her home now, but she knew that wouldn't stop him if he was going to. So was he going to? If the question weren't so damned important, she'd put herself out of misery and ask it again, and pray that this time she'd get a straight answer. But if he didn't have plans to live with her permanently, she really didn't want to know it now, when she was starting to have hope again.

Edward had arrived with his wife, Charlotte, and Amy, the youngest of his five children. The others all had had previous commitments, but had promised to drop by during the week. Derek, Jason's only son, was supposedly out of town, likely committing deviltry—word was he was fast following in his younger uncles' footsteps—at least no one had been able to locate him. And Jason's wife, Frances, never came to London, so her absence was not unexpected. Regina had, in fact, confided that Frances had only endured marriage to provide Derek and Regina with a mother figure, and now that they were grown, she preferred to live separately from her austere husband.

"Don't worry, you'll figure out who's who in no time," Roslynn had assured her. "It's when dear Charlotte regales you with the ton's latest scandals that you'll get confused. So many , you know, and yet you're likely to meet everyone involved eventually."

Meet the cream of England's aristocracy? She could do without that, thank you. And yet she nearly choked with wry humor when she realized that aside from Connie and Jeremy, every single person in the room was a titled aristocrat, herself now included. And irony of ironies, she didn't find them the least bit contemptible, snobbish, or unlikable . . . well, with the possible exception of her youngest brother-in-law.