outrage. "Material such as that which is being used to blackmail your friend?"
"Precisely."
"I would never do such a thing." Iphiginia realized that she was hurt as well as angry and she did not know quite why. Marcus's alarming conclusions about her were not unreasonable under the circumstances. Nevertheless, she felt wounded by them. "If you knew me better, my lord, you would not make such accusations."
"I am, but I do not know you very well at all, do I? Not nearly as well as you appear to know me. And that, madam, has finally begun to worry me."
"I do not see how I can persuade you of my innocence, nor will I lower myself to even attempt to do so."
"Then we have a problem on our hands, my dear." Marcus inclined his head a bare half inch at an acquaintance who nodded from the doorway of a snuff shop.
Iphiginia pretended to focus on some gloves that were displayed in a shop window. She could feel the avid curiosity in the gaze of the man who stood in front of the snuff shop. Indeed, she could feel a dozen pairs of eyes boring into her.
There was very little privacy here in Town. Anonymity was impossible, especially for any woman whose name was linked with that of the Earl of Masters.
It was almost as bad as living in Deepford, Iphiginia thought resentfully. But at least here in London she would not he subjected to lectures on propriety from the vicar or from the parents of her sister's in-laws-to-be.
She merely had to listen to such lectures from Marcus.
"You are making a much more difficult problem out of this affair than is necessary," Iphiginia said forcefully. "But then, something tells me that you are a very difficult man.
"Regardless of how unpleasant this problem is for you, madam, you may rest assured that until it is resolved, you and I are going to be spending a great deal of time in each other's company."
"What is that supposed to mean, my lord?"
"It means that until I am convinced that you are not involved in this blackmail scheme, I intend to keep you very near at hand." Marcus smiled without any trace of amusement. "Where I can keep an eye on you. How fortunate for me that you have chosen to masquerade as my mistress. It provides the perfect excuse for me to stay very close to you."
Iphiginia bristled. "What if I decide that I no longer wish to continue the masquerade?"
"It is far too late to change your mind about your role in this charming little play." Marcus acknowledged another acquaintance with a faint tilt of his head. "You are too deeply into the part."
"If that is the case, I give you fair warning that I fully intend to proceed with my inquiries. I am determined to discover the identity of the blackmailer."
"An odd coincidence. I have set myself precisely the same goal."
Fulminating, Iphiginia studied him in silence for a moment. "We are going to carry on with our pretense, then?"
"Yes." Marcus responded to the greeting of an elderly woman who was emerging from a bookshop. "Mrs. Osworth."
"Masters."
Iphiginia recognized the heady-eyed lady. She managed a civil smile. "Good day, Mrs. Osworth."
"Good day to you, Mrs. Bright." Mrs. Osworth turned her sharp gaze on Marcus. "Lovely day, my lord, is it not?"
"Indeed," Marcus said. "I trust we shall be seeing you both at the Lartmores' ball this evening?" Mrs. Osworth murmured.
"Doubtful," Marcus said flatly.
"I certainly plan to attend," Iphiginia said briskly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus's mouth thin with disapproval. She deliberately brightened her smile. "I understand that Lord Lartmore has a very extensive collection of statuary."
"Yes, I believe he does," Mrs. Osworth said. "My husband mentioned it once. I have never seen it myself. I'm not terribly interested in antique statuary. Oh, dear, you must forgive me. I must be off."
"Yes, of course," Iphiginia said. "I have an appointment to interview a woman who is being sent over from the Wycherley Agency. I am seeking a new companion, you know."
"No, I did not
"Precisely."
"I would never do such a thing." Iphiginia realized that she was hurt as well as angry and she did not know quite why. Marcus's alarming conclusions about her were not unreasonable under the circumstances. Nevertheless, she felt wounded by them. "If you knew me better, my lord, you would not make such accusations."
"I am, but I do not know you very well at all, do I? Not nearly as well as you appear to know me. And that, madam, has finally begun to worry me."
"I do not see how I can persuade you of my innocence, nor will I lower myself to even attempt to do so."
"Then we have a problem on our hands, my dear." Marcus inclined his head a bare half inch at an acquaintance who nodded from the doorway of a snuff shop.
Iphiginia pretended to focus on some gloves that were displayed in a shop window. She could feel the avid curiosity in the gaze of the man who stood in front of the snuff shop. Indeed, she could feel a dozen pairs of eyes boring into her.
There was very little privacy here in Town. Anonymity was impossible, especially for any woman whose name was linked with that of the Earl of Masters.
It was almost as bad as living in Deepford, Iphiginia thought resentfully. But at least here in London she would not he subjected to lectures on propriety from the vicar or from the parents of her sister's in-laws-to-be.
She merely had to listen to such lectures from Marcus.
"You are making a much more difficult problem out of this affair than is necessary," Iphiginia said forcefully. "But then, something tells me that you are a very difficult man.
"Regardless of how unpleasant this problem is for you, madam, you may rest assured that until it is resolved, you and I are going to be spending a great deal of time in each other's company."
"What is that supposed to mean, my lord?"
"It means that until I am convinced that you are not involved in this blackmail scheme, I intend to keep you very near at hand." Marcus smiled without any trace of amusement. "Where I can keep an eye on you. How fortunate for me that you have chosen to masquerade as my mistress. It provides the perfect excuse for me to stay very close to you."
Iphiginia bristled. "What if I decide that I no longer wish to continue the masquerade?"
"It is far too late to change your mind about your role in this charming little play." Marcus acknowledged another acquaintance with a faint tilt of his head. "You are too deeply into the part."
"If that is the case, I give you fair warning that I fully intend to proceed with my inquiries. I am determined to discover the identity of the blackmailer."
"An odd coincidence. I have set myself precisely the same goal."
Fulminating, Iphiginia studied him in silence for a moment. "We are going to carry on with our pretense, then?"
"Yes." Marcus responded to the greeting of an elderly woman who was emerging from a bookshop. "Mrs. Osworth."
"Masters."
Iphiginia recognized the heady-eyed lady. She managed a civil smile. "Good day, Mrs. Osworth."
"Good day to you, Mrs. Bright." Mrs. Osworth turned her sharp gaze on Marcus. "Lovely day, my lord, is it not?"
"Indeed," Marcus said. "I trust we shall be seeing you both at the Lartmores' ball this evening?" Mrs. Osworth murmured.
"Doubtful," Marcus said flatly.
"I certainly plan to attend," Iphiginia said briskly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus's mouth thin with disapproval. She deliberately brightened her smile. "I understand that Lord Lartmore has a very extensive collection of statuary."
"Yes, I believe he does," Mrs. Osworth said. "My husband mentioned it once. I have never seen it myself. I'm not terribly interested in antique statuary. Oh, dear, you must forgive me. I must be off."
"Yes, of course," Iphiginia said. "I have an appointment to interview a woman who is being sent over from the Wycherley Agency. I am seeking a new companion, you know."
"No, I did not
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