Climbing the steps to Twyford House the next evening, Felix was still in two minds over whether he was doing the right thing. He was far too wise to be overly attentive to Margaret, yet if he did not make a push to engage her interest, she would shortly be the object of the attentions of a far larger circle of gentlemen, few of whom would hesitate to attend Almack's purely because they disliked the mooned over by very young women. He hoped, in his capacity as their guardian, to confine his attentions to the Fleming sisters and so escape the usual jostle of matchmaking mamas. They should have learned by now that he was not likely to succumb to their daughters' vapid charms. Still, he was not looking forward to the evening.

If truth were told, he had been hearing about his wards on all sides for the past week. They had caught the fancy of the ton, starved as it was of novelty. And their brand of beauty always had attraction. But what he had not heard was worrying him more. There had been more than one incident when, entering a room, he had been more than one incident when, entering a room, he had been aware of at lest one conversation abruptly halted, then smoothly resumed. Another reason to identify himself more closely with with his wards. He reminded himself that the three of them were truly his responsibility and, in the circumstances, the polite world would hold him responsible for Miss Fleming as well. His duty was clear.

Admitted to Twyford House, Felix paused to exchange a few words with Millard. Satisfied that all was running smoothly, he turned and stopped, all thought resetting him. Transfixed, he watched the Fleming sisters descend the grand staircase. Seen together, gorgeously garbed for the ball, they were quite the most heart-stopping sight he had beheld in many a year. His eyes rested with the acclaim in each in turn, but stopped when they reached Margaret. The rest of the company seemed to dissolve in a haze as his eyes roamed appreciatively over the clean lines of her eaude-Nil silk gown. It cling suggestively to her generous breasts. His hands burned with the desire to caress those tantalizing curves. Then his eyes locked with hers as she crossed the room to his side, her hand extended to him. Automatically, he took it in his. Then she was speaking, smiling up at him in her usual confusing way.

"Thank you for coming. I do hope you'll not be too bored by such tame entertainment." Lady Hillsborough, on receiving Felix's curt note informing them of his intention to accompany them to Almack's, had crowed with delight. When she calmed, she had explained his aversion to the place. So it was an unexpected feeling of guilt that Margaret had come forward to welcome him. But, gazing into his intensely blue eyes, she could find no trace of annoyance or irritation. Instead, she recognized the same emotion she had detected the very first time they had met. To add to her confusion, he raised her hand to his lips, his eyes warm and entirely too knowing.

"Do you know, I very much doubt that I'll be bored at all?" her guardian murmured wickedly.

Margaret blushed vividly. Luckily, this was missed by all but Felix in relatively poor light of the hall and the bustle as they donned their cloaks. Both Lady Hillsborough and Marian Winford were to go, cutting the odds between chaperons and charges. Before Felix's intervention, the coach would have had to do two trips to King Street. Now, Margaret found that Amelia and Mrs. Winford, together with Sophia and Maribella, were to travel in the Twyford coach while she and Emma were to travel with Felix. Suddenly suspicious of her guardian's intentions, she was forced to accept the arrangement with suitable grace. As Felix handed her into the carriage and saw her settled comfortably, she told herself she was a doll to read into his behaviour anything other than an attempt to trip her up. He was only amusing himself.

As if to confirm her supposition, the journey was unremarkable and soon they were entering the hallowed precincts of the Assembly Rooms. The sparsely furnished halls were already well filled with the usual mixed of débutabtes and unmarried young ladies, carefully chaperoned by their mamas in the hope of finding a suitable connection among the unattached gentlemen strolling through the throng. It was a social club to which it was necessary to belong. And it was clear from their reception that, at least as far as the gentlemen were concerned, the Fleming sisters definitely belonged. To Felix's horror, they were almost mobbed.

He stood back and watched the sisters artfully manage their admirers. Maribella has the largest court with all the most rackety and dangerous blades. A more discerning crowd of eminently eligible gentlemen had formed around Sophia while the youthful Emma has gathered all the more earnest of the younger men to her. But the group around Margaret drew his deepest consideration. There were more than a few highly dangerous roués in the throng gathered about her but all were experienced and none was likely to attempt anything scandalous without encouragement. As he watched, it became clear that all four girls had an innate ability to choose the more acceptable among their potential partners. They also had the happy knack of dismissing the less favoured with real charm, a bit inconsiderable feat. The more he watched, the more intrigued Felix became. He was about to seek clarification from his aunt, standing beside him, when that lady very kindly answered his unspoken query.

"You needn't worry, y'know. Those girls have got heads firmly on their shoulders. Ever since they started going about, I've been bombarded with questions on who's eligible and who's not. Even Maribella, minx that she is, takes good care to know who she's flirting with."

Felix looked his puzzlement.

"Well," explained her ladyship, surprised by his obtuseness, "they're all set on finding husbands, of course!" She glanced up at him, eyes suddenly sharp, and added, "I should think you'd be thrilled—it means they'll be off your hands all the sooner."

"Yes. Of course," Felix answered absently.