They had timed their plan carefully to avoid any possible mishap. The unmasking was scheduled for one o'clock. At precisely half-past twelve, Sophia and Sir Jack left the ballroom and strolled in a convincingly relaxed manner down a secluded walk which led to a little gazebo. The gazebo was placed across the path and, beyond it, the path continued to a gate giving access to the carriage drive.

Within sight of the gazebo, Sophia halted, "Maribella's inside. I'll wait here and ensure no one interrupts."

Sir Jack swallowed, nodded once and left her. He climbed the few steps and entered the gazebo. In the dimness, he beheld the rose-pink domino, her mask still in place, waiting nervously for him to approach. Reverently, he went forward and then went down in one knee.

Sophia, watching from the shadows outside, grinned in delight. The dim figures exchanged a few words, then Sir Jack rose and kissed the lady. Sophia held her breath, but all went well. Hand in hand, the pink domino and her escort descended by the opposite door of the gazebo and headed for the gate. To make absolutely sure of their success, Sophia entered the gazebo and stood watching the couple disappear through the gate. She waited, silently, then the click of horses' hooves came distantly on the breeze. With a quick smile, she turned to leave. And froze.

Just inside the door to the gazebo stood a tall, black-domino-clad figure, his shoulders propped negligently against the frame in an attitude so characteristic Sophia would have known him anywhere. "Are you perchance waiting for an assignation, my dear?"

Sophia made a grab for her fast disappearing wits. She drew herself up but, before she could speak, his voice came again. "Don't run away. A chase through the bushes would be undignified at best and I would catch you all the same."

Sophia's brows rose haughtily. She had removed her mask which had been irritating her and it hung by its strings from her fingers. She swung it back and forth nervously. "Run? Why should I rub?" Her voice, she was pleased to find, was calm.

Daniel did not answer. Instead, he pushed away from the door and crossed the floor to stand in front of her. He reached up and undid his mask. Then his eyes caught hers. "Are you still set on fleeing to a convent?"

She held his gaze steadily. "I am."

A wry smile, self-mocking, she thought, twisted his mobile mouth. "That won't do, you know. You're not cut out to be a bride of Christ."

"Better a bride of Christ than a mistress of a man." She watched the muscles in his jaw tighten.

"You think so?"

Despite the fact that she had known it would happen, had steeled herself to withstand it, her defenses crumbled at his touch and she was swept headlong into abandonment, freed from restraint, knowing where the road led and no longer caring.

But when Daniel stopped and lifted her, to carry her to the wide cushioned seats at the side of the room, she shook her head violently. "Daniel, no!" Her voice caught on a sob. "Please, Daniel, let me go."

Her tears sobered him as nothing else could have. Slowly, he let her down until her feet touched the floor. She was openly crying, as if her heart would break. "Sophia?" Daniel put out a hand to smooth her brown hair.

Sophia had found her handkerchief and was mopping her streaming eyes, her face averted. "Please go, Daniel."

Daniel stiffened. For the first time in his adult life, he wanted to take a woman into his arms purely to comfort her. All inclinations to make love to her had vanished at the first hint of her distress. But, sending behind her whispered words a confusion she had yet to resolve, he sighed and, with a curt bow, did as she asked.

Sophia listened to his footsteps die away. She remained in the gazebo until she had cried herself out. Then, she returned to the ballroom to tell her sisters and their protégées of their success.