The Mandarin of Mayfair by Patricia Veryan

door. "Gideon!" called Gwendolyn, setting her book atop the other volumes on the shelf.
    Her brother's tall figure was briefly silhouetted against the pale sunlight that flooded through the dining room windows across the corridor, then he came striding in, smiling, and reaching up to lift her down.
    "Cheerful sparrow!" he exclaimed, swinging her around and giving her a smacking kiss. "You're early abroad, and in search of knowledge, I see."
    She clung to his arm, looking up lovingly into the face of this brother who was closest to her heart. "I wanted a book. And if August sees me in here he takes it for granted I am preparing to tease him about China again."
    His laugh was a trifle forced. "And are you, scamp? You really should not, you know. 'Tis not as if he was family, and he has enough to bear on that suit."
    "Most of which he brings on himself by being so impossibly proud and—Oh, never mind." She sat on the sofa. "Will you reach down the book for me, please, love? 'Tis so good to see you. Did Papa send you to fetch me home?"
    "No. He's off to the shipyards." He retrieved her book and glanced at it curiously as he wandered over to sit beside her. "Cornwall? Has Falcon been telling you of his exploits out there? Or has Mrs. Armitage piqued your interest in her birthplace?"
    "I've only met Jennifer Armitage twice. She is the sweetest creature. Jonathan must be very happy to have won her. As for August, he is close-mouthed as any oyster, and says only that the wind blew most of the hair from his head, and that Johnny almost got him killed, and that 'twas a great bore, except for when Johnny sailed an ark down the face of a sheer cliff!" She asked an amused, "Is there any least vestige of truth in it, Gideon?"
    "Oh, yes. Though not quite in the way Falcon would tell it. 'Tis a long story, Gwen, but from what I hear, he did jolly well—for such a confirmed cynic. In fact"—he glanced to the open door and lowered his voice—"don't tell him I told you, but he saved Jamie's life."
    Her voice squeaked with pleased surprise. "August did?"
    Rossiter nodded. "Morris told me that he'd have been knifed in the back had not Falcon pushed him aside and dashed near taken the blade himself." His lips tightened. "As you may guess, Falcon says the only reason he did it was to make sure Jamie keeps alive long enough for their much delayed duel."
    "You believe that?"
    He said thoughtfully, "Its hard to guess what goes on in his head. He's a law unto himself, in many ways. Each time I think I know him a little better, he does or says something outrageous, and I am all at sea again."
    "Yes, I know. But one cannot judge by what he says. Only by what he does. And—you do like him a little, Gideon?"
    She was looking at him anxiously. He felt a stirring of unease. Falcon was such a damnably handsome fellow, but none of the ladies who had been so unwise as to give their hearts to him had for very long held his affection, and two were said to have gone into a most serious decline. He gave himself a mental shake. Falcon's conquests were without fail poised and dashing beauties, either married or widowed. The single maidens of Quality who had fallen under his spell had done so with small encouragement from him, and he likely viewed dear little Gwen only as his sister's rather irritating friend. Besides, Gwen herself had often said she'd no least interest in a romantical attachment. Poor mite.
    Reassured, he smiled and answered, "Cautiously—yes, I have come to like him. Mayhap his loyalty to us has lasted only because he loves the excitement and danger of the game. At times his arrogance and cynicism make me yearn to strangle him. But he is high couraged and loyal, and has served us well, and I cannot but be grateful for that. Here." He passed the book to her. "I fancy this will tell you about the weather and some of the history of Cornwall. 'Tis a wild coast, I've heard."
    "Yes." She looked at the book rather blankly, then said, "I was more