As soon as she felt sufficiently camouflaged from her guardian's eye by the gorgeously coloured throng, Emma Fleming made her way to the ballroom window further from the door. It was the meeting place Sophia had stipulated where Sir Jack was to await further instructions. He was there, in a dark green domino and a black mask.

Emma gave him her hand. "Good!" The hand holding hers trembled. She peered into the black mask. "You're not going to let Maribella down, are you?"

To her relief, Sir Jack swallows and shook his head. "No. Of course not. I've got my carriage waiting, as Miss Sophia suggested. I wouldn't dream if deserting Miss Maribella."

Despite the weakness in his voice, Emma was satisfied. "It's all right," she assured him. "Maribella is wearing a rose-pink domino. It's her favourite colour so you should recognize it. We'll bring her to you, as we said we would. Don't worry," she said, giving his hand a squeeze, "it'll all work out for the best, you'll see." She patted his hand and, returning it to him, left him. As she moved down the ballroom, she scanned the crowd and picked out Margaret in her aqua domino waltzing with a black domino who could only be their guardian. She grinned to herself and the next instant, walked smack into a dark blue domino directly in her path.

"Oh!" She fell back and put up a hand to her mask, which had slipped.

"Emma," said the blue domino in perfectly recognizable accents, "what were you doing talking to Finley?"

"Francis! What a start you gave me. My mask nearly fell. Wh...what do you mean?"

"I mean, Miss Innocence," said Francis sternly, taking her arm and compelling her to walk beside him on to the terrace, "that I saw you come into the ballroom and then, as soon as you were out of Felix's sight, make a bee-line for Finley. Now, out with it! What's going on?"

Emma was in shock. What was she to do? Not for a moment did she imagine that Francis would agree to turn a blind eye to their scheme. But she was not a very good liar. Still, she would have to try. Luckily, the mask hid most of her face and her shock had kept her immobile, gazing silently up at him in what could be taken for her usual innocent manner. "But I don't know what you mean, Francis. I know I talked to Sir Jack, but that was because he was the only one I recognized."

The explanation was so reasonable that Francis felt a sudden suspicion was as ridiculous as it had seemed. He felt decidedly foolish. "Oh."

"But now you're here," said Emma, pitting her hand on his arm. "So I can talk to you."

Francis's usual grin returned. "Do you can." He raised his eyes to the secluded walks, still empty as the dancing had only just begun. "Why don't we explore while we chat?"

Lately, Emma had been in the habit of refusing such invitations but tonight she was thankful for any suggestion that would distract Francis from their enterprise. So she nodded and they stepped off the terrace on to the gravel. They followed a path into the shrubbery. It wended this way and that until the house was a glimmer of light and noise beyond the screening bushes. They found an ornamental stream and followed it to a lake. There was a small island in the middle with a tiny summer-house, reached by a rustic bridge. They crossed over and found the door of the summer-house open.

"Isn't this lovely?" said Emma, quite enchanted by the scene. Moonbeams danced in a tracery of light created by the carved wooden shutters. The soft swish of the water running past the reed-covered banks was the only sound to reach their ears.

"Mmm, yes, quite lovely," murmured Francis, enchanted by something quite different. Even Emma in her innocence heard the warning in his tone but she turned only in time to find herself in his arms. Francis tilted her face up and smiled gently down at her. "Emma, sweet Emma. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

Emma's eyes grew round. Francis's arms closed around her, gentle yet quite firm. It seemed unbelievable that their tightness could be restricting her breathing, yet she found herself quite unable to draw breath. And the strange light in Francis's eyes was making her dizzy. She had meant to ask her sisters for guidance on how best to handle such situations but, due to her absorption with their schemes, it had slipped her mind. She suspected this was one of those points where using one's wits cane into it. But, as her tongue seemed incapable of forming any words, she could only shake her head and hope that was acceptable.

"Ah," said Francis, his grin broadening. "Well, you're so very beautiful, sweetheart, that I'm afraid I can't resist. I'm going to kiss you again, Emma. And it's going to be thoroughly enjoyable for both of us." Without further words, he dipped his head and, very gently, kissed her. When she did not draw back, he continued the caress, prolonging the sensation until he felt her response. Gradually, with the moonlight washing over them, he deepened the kiss, then, as she continued to respond easily, gently drew her further into his arms. She came willingly and Francis was suddenly unsure of the ground rules. He had no wish to frighten her, innocent as she was, yet he longed to take their dalliance further, much further. He gently increased the pressure of his lips on hers until they parted for him. Slowly, continually reminding himself of her youth, he taught her how pleasurable a kiss could be. Her responses drove him to seek more.