gave Marcus one last uneasy look and then nodded at Amelia. "Let us be off."
Marcus watched Amelia and Zoe walk toward Iphiginia's small, delicate white carriage. The airy, graceful equipage was trimmed with gilt and horsed with two white mares. The animals' braided manes were adorned with white plumes. The gleaming harness sparkled in the spring sun. The coachman wore white livery trimmed with gold buttons.
"Your carriage, I presume?" Marcus said to Iphiginia.
"How did you
guess
?"
"It looks like something out of a bloody fairy tale."
"I thought it appropriate. From the description I was given of your equipage, I understood it to look like something a wicked troll might drive. I wanted to provide a counterpoint."
"A wicked troll, eh? What does that make you, my dear Mrs. Bright? A fairy princess?"
"I assure you, I am no fairy princess."
"Thank God for that much." Marcus tightened his grasp on Iphiginia's arm. He started to stride swiftly along the broad promenade of the fashionable shopping street. "I have enough problems at the moment."
Iphiginia dug in the heels of her white kid half boots. "If you wish to discuss your problems with me, which I presume is your intention, you'll have to slow your pace, my lord. I do not intend to gallop the length of Pall Mall with you."
Marcus scowled, but he shortened his stride. "Enough of this nonsense. Who are you and what the devil do you think you're about?"
"I beg your pardon?" Iphiginia busied herself with the act of unfurling her lacy white parasol. "I do not comprehend your tone or your meaning, my lord. I explained everything to you last night."
"Last night," Marcus said, "I believed you to be playing some clever game in order to make a place for yourself in Society."
"Yes, I know you did."
"This morning it was forcibly brought to my attention that you are involved in something other than an amusing masquerade. I wish to know precisely what it is you are about."
Iphiginia tried to be patient. "I told you, sir. I am attempting to discover the person who is blackmailing my aunt. Nothing has changed. What has overset you so this morning?"
"I am not overset. You make it sound as though I were having the vapors. I am bloody furious."
"Oh."
He shot her a frozen look. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"
Iphiginia thought about it. "If it would not he too much trouble, my lord, I would like to know what it is that has, ah, outraged you."
He hesitated, as though debating how much to tell her. "I have just learned that a close friend of mine is being blackmailed."
Iphiginia stared at him, astonished. "Good heavens. Someone other than my aunt is also being blackmailed after all? This is very interesting news, indeed, my lord."
"Is it not?"
"Sir, I do not understand your sarcasm. I should think you would he alarmed to learn that the tale I told you may well he true and that a friend of yours is also a blackmailer's victim. Why are you angry with me?"
"I suggest that you construct a reasonable hypothesis to explain my irritation."
"I beg your pardon?"
"A guess, Mrs. Bright. Make a guess."
Iphiginia's mouth dropped open. Now he was being more than sarcastic. He was becoming impossibly rude. She swiftly composed her expression when she noticed three lounging dandies gazing raptly at her. She blocked their view with her parasol.
"This is ridiculous, Masters. Why are you annoyed with me?"
"Because I have come to the obvious conclusion that you are very likely the blackmailer."
"What on earth?" Iphiginia came to a complete halt. She yanked her arm free and whirled about to confront Marcus. "You go too far, sir. What do you think I am?"
"A clever, scheming little adventuress who has gone one step beyond the pale." Marcus's voice was soft, but it was weighted with steel. "Last night I found your silly masquerade amusing."
"My lord, please—"
"I was even going to go along with the charade for a while. I will admit that you are far and away the most
Marcus watched Amelia and Zoe walk toward Iphiginia's small, delicate white carriage. The airy, graceful equipage was trimmed with gilt and horsed with two white mares. The animals' braided manes were adorned with white plumes. The gleaming harness sparkled in the spring sun. The coachman wore white livery trimmed with gold buttons.
"Your carriage, I presume?" Marcus said to Iphiginia.
"How did you
guess
?"
"It looks like something out of a bloody fairy tale."
"I thought it appropriate. From the description I was given of your equipage, I understood it to look like something a wicked troll might drive. I wanted to provide a counterpoint."
"A wicked troll, eh? What does that make you, my dear Mrs. Bright? A fairy princess?"
"I assure you, I am no fairy princess."
"Thank God for that much." Marcus tightened his grasp on Iphiginia's arm. He started to stride swiftly along the broad promenade of the fashionable shopping street. "I have enough problems at the moment."
Iphiginia dug in the heels of her white kid half boots. "If you wish to discuss your problems with me, which I presume is your intention, you'll have to slow your pace, my lord. I do not intend to gallop the length of Pall Mall with you."
Marcus scowled, but he shortened his stride. "Enough of this nonsense. Who are you and what the devil do you think you're about?"
"I beg your pardon?" Iphiginia busied herself with the act of unfurling her lacy white parasol. "I do not comprehend your tone or your meaning, my lord. I explained everything to you last night."
"Last night," Marcus said, "I believed you to be playing some clever game in order to make a place for yourself in Society."
"Yes, I know you did."
"This morning it was forcibly brought to my attention that you are involved in something other than an amusing masquerade. I wish to know precisely what it is you are about."
Iphiginia tried to be patient. "I told you, sir. I am attempting to discover the person who is blackmailing my aunt. Nothing has changed. What has overset you so this morning?"
"I am not overset. You make it sound as though I were having the vapors. I am bloody furious."
"Oh."
He shot her a frozen look. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"
Iphiginia thought about it. "If it would not he too much trouble, my lord, I would like to know what it is that has, ah, outraged you."
He hesitated, as though debating how much to tell her. "I have just learned that a close friend of mine is being blackmailed."
Iphiginia stared at him, astonished. "Good heavens. Someone other than my aunt is also being blackmailed after all? This is very interesting news, indeed, my lord."
"Is it not?"
"Sir, I do not understand your sarcasm. I should think you would he alarmed to learn that the tale I told you may well he true and that a friend of yours is also a blackmailer's victim. Why are you angry with me?"
"I suggest that you construct a reasonable hypothesis to explain my irritation."
"I beg your pardon?"
"A guess, Mrs. Bright. Make a guess."
Iphiginia's mouth dropped open. Now he was being more than sarcastic. He was becoming impossibly rude. She swiftly composed her expression when she noticed three lounging dandies gazing raptly at her. She blocked their view with her parasol.
"This is ridiculous, Masters. Why are you annoyed with me?"
"Because I have come to the obvious conclusion that you are very likely the blackmailer."
"What on earth?" Iphiginia came to a complete halt. She yanked her arm free and whirled about to confront Marcus. "You go too far, sir. What do you think I am?"
"A clever, scheming little adventuress who has gone one step beyond the pale." Marcus's voice was soft, but it was weighted with steel. "Last night I found your silly masquerade amusing."
"My lord, please—"
"I was even going to go along with the charade for a while. I will admit that you are far and away the most
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