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The earl'sfingers stilled for an instant and the valet's eyes widened. Someonewas singing. A pretty, lilting voice, quite unmistakably female,trilled the melody of a very familiar French folk song.

After the barest hesitation, Linton continued his toilette. "I haveoften remarked, Petersham," he observed calmly, "that one of your mostpriceless qualities is a certain gift of deafness—selective deafness.You understand me, I'm sure." His eyes met those of the other man inthe mirror.

"Perfectly, my lord." The valet bowed and handed the earl his snuffbox.

Justin made his way down the stairs, reflecting with amusedexasperation that he must inform his ward that singing in her bath was,on this occasion at least, a somewhat indiscreet activity.

"Ah, Peter, I am returned to plague you, I fear." He greeted thesomber-suited young man, who rose instantly from the desk at hisentrance to the book room.

Peter Haversham, the younger son of an impoverished baronet, consideredhimself very fortunate to have found employment as secretary to theEarl of Linton. Not only was HisLordship a most considerate employer, he was also deeply involved inhis country's political activities, particularly those overseas. Thisinvolvement was known to few, the earl preferring to cultivate for morepublic consumption the demeanor and life-style of a leader of the ton,but for the young man with strong political ambitions no better patroncould be found. So it was with very genuine disclaimers that Mr.Haversham responded to My Lord's greeting.

"Your business in Paris was successful, I hope, Lord Linton?"

"Depressing, Peter, very depressing—and unexpectedly fatiguing," Lintonadded with a slight smile. "Will you take a glass of Madeira, dear boy?"

He poured the wine before seating himself behind the large carved desk."I have a task for you, Peter, admirably suited to your talents—inparticular to your gift for tact and discretion."

The young man bowed, wondering with interest what his employer wasabout to demand of him.

"A letter to Pitt," Linton went on calmly, "requesting a meeting, mosturgently, for this evening. At a time that will be convenient to him,of course, but if you could manage to convey that a relatively earlyhour would be most convenient for me, I should be obliged to you." Aneyebrow lifted questioningly.

"Of course, my lord."

"You are a prince amongst secretaries," Linton murmured. "You willexplain to Pitt that I shall have a companion—a young lady—who has someinformation that he will find invaluable. I see you look startled,Peter?"

"Not at all, sir." The young man made haste to deny the charge.

"You will also convey that this young lady's identity must be keptsecret, for reasons of her own, but that I will vouch for the truth ofher story and the reliability of her information. I beg his indulgencein this regard. . . . You will understand how to put the matter, I amsure, Peter."

"I shall do my best, my lord."

"Yes, I know you will, dear boy. I shall be going into the countrytomorrow for a se'enight, maybe longer, so if there are any mattersrequiring my immediate attention perhaps we could deal with them now."The earl sipped his Madeira thoughtfully, regarding the inscrutablecountenance of the young man with a degree of well-concealed amusement.He could well imagine the speculation going on behind that broad,intelligent brow.

"You are going to Danesbury, my lord? There are some small matters ofthe estate that need your attention."

"No, Peter, my destination, I fear, is not to be Danesbury," Lintonsaid uninformatively.

"In that case, sir, there is nothing but some invitations to which Iwill send your regrets. Do you expect to return for the Duchess ofDevonshire's ball?"

The earl frowned. "No, I think, Peter, that I shall contrive to be outof town on that day. Regretfully, of course."

"Of course." A gleam of amusement flickered in the cool green eyes.Peter Haversham was well aware of his lordship's bored distaste for the"squeezes" of the Season.

"I will leave you to your work, then. Would you inform Bedford that Ishall dine at six o'clock in my apartments. He should lay covers fortwo? One course will suffice as I will not wish to be disturbed."

Peter bowed, imagining the consternation and havoc this message wouldwreak in the kitchen where its master was already joyously involved inpreparations for a magnificent repast to welcome1 His Lordship'sreturn. His artistry had little enough opportunities for creativefulfillment during the earl's absences.

A smart curricle stood at the door to Linton House, a wiry lad holdingthe heads of a pair of beautifully matched blood chestnuts, as Justinemerged into the sullen afternoon. It was no longer raining, but anovercast gray sky hung low over the town.

"They look fresh, Tomas," His Lordship observed, climbing into thecurricle and taking the reins between his gloved hands.

"Beggin' your pardon, me lord, but they've the devil in 'em.

Been eatin' their 'eads off for the last week," the tiger replied.

Justin only laughed. "Stand away then."

The lad released their heads and the pair sprang forward, hardly givingthe agile figure time to leap up behind. Linton steadied them with abarely perceptible movement of his wrists and the magnificent equipageset off at a well-controlled trot out of the square, totally unaware ofthe pair of envious brown eyes watching from a second-floor window.

Madame Lutece, alerted by a wide-eyed servant girl,hurried into hershop as the Earl of Linton, with the brisk injunction to Tomas to walkthe horses as he'd not be above a half hour, descended from thecurricle outside her Bond Street establishment.

"My lord, this is indeed an honor. How can I be of service?" Thebeautifully gowned figure swept a curtsy, hiding her sharp-eyedspeculative look beneath lowered lashes.

The earl brushed a speck of dust from an immaculate forearm beforereplying. "I wish for an afternoon gown for a young lady, madame."

"Might I ask how young, milord?"

"Very young," Linton informed her succinctly. "Also rather small."

Madame schooled

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