"And are you my suitor?" Caroline asked as she walked toward him.

Bradford saw that her eyes fairly sparkled with mischief and found himself nodding. "And are you overly eager?" he returned.

"But of course," Caroline answered. "I have learned that you are wealthy and respected so I am naturally eager. Isn't that what you believe?" She laughed at his expression, thinking he looked terribly uncomfortable.

"I haven't even greeted you properly and you bait me," Bradford said with a heavy sigh.

"But we have just greeted each other," Caroline contradicted. She began to lose her smile and her flirtatious mood when the Duke of Bradford started to advance upon her at an alarming pace. Caroline backed up and would have avoided his grasp had it not been for the settee blocking her retreat.

Bradford took hold of Caroline by the shoulders and slowly pulled her to him. His intent was most clear, and Caroline frantically tried to push him away as she looked beyond his shoulder. The doors were wide open and her father could walk in at any moment. She knew that Deighton had gone to tell him that Bradford had arrived. It certainly wouldn't do to have him find her in such a compromising position.

"My father-" Caroline never finished her thought. Bradford claimed her mouth in a warm, intoxicating kiss that immediately melted her good intentions. She responded almost at once, cupping the sides of his face with her hands. The kiss drained any thought of rebellion and when Bradford pulled away, Caroline was disappointed. Her look must have told him so because he started to laugh.

"Why didn't you kiss me the way you did last night?" Caroline asked. She realized she was still touching his face and dropped her hands.

"Because once I kiss you that way," he said, mimicking her choice of words with a tender grin, "I don't want to stop. I know my limits," he continued.

"Are you suggesting that I could make you lose your control?" Caroline asked.

Bradford read the amusement lurking in her violet gaze and thought again what an innocent she was. She thought to tease him and didn't have a clue that what she said was true. She could make him lose control.

"Since you do not answer me, I can only conclude that I could!" Caroline laughed, clasping her hands together, and strolled at a sassy pace to one of the wingback chairs flanking the marble fireplace. "That makes me very powerful, milord, doesn't it? And I am only half your size."

Bradford sat down in the other wingback chair and stretched his long, muscular legs in front of him. One boot crossed over the other in a relaxed position as he considered how to answer Caroline. He regarded her for a full minute and Caroline thought he looked almost brooding.

"All right," Caroline said with a sigh. "You aren't in the mood for teasing and besides, I have something important to ask of you before my father arrives. I need a small favor, Bradford, and if you will only agree, I will forever be in your debt." Caroline folded her hands in her lap and waited for Bradford's reply.

"Forever?" Bradford asked, one eyebrow raised. "That is a long time to be in another's debt."

"I exaggerated," Caroline admitted. "I would like you to escort Charity and me to Paul Bleachley's home and help us gain admittance."

Bradford shook his head, sorry that he had to deny her. "Paul would never agree."

"No, you do not understand," Caroline argued. She stood up and began to pace. "In fact, it is quite imperative that Paul not know we are coming. Of course he would say no! My plan is to take him by surprise." She stopped in front of Bradford and smiled. "It's really very simple," she said. When Bradford frowned anew, Caroline found herself growing frustrated. Her father would be there any minute and she wanted to get the arrangements completed before. She put her hands on her hips. "My plan," she explained. "I am only thinking of my cousin… and Paul, too. I am doing what is best for both of them."

That statement got a reaction. Bradford actually started laughing. "And only you know what is best for them?" he asked when he had gained control of himself.

"You are always laughing at me," Caroline muttered, despair sounding in her voice. She heard her father coming down the steps and rushed, "Please agree. You must trust me, Bradford. I really do know what I'm doing. It would be a considerate thing to do!" Caroline realized that she sounded like she was begging. Her back straightened and she gave Bradford what she hoped was a firm look. "I won't be swayed, only delayed," she whispered. Those were Bradford's very words to her the night before, though the subject was of a different nature.

The earl entered the receiving room and smiled. Bradford was laughing and Caroline looked quite pleased with herself.

The next hour was spent in casual conversation. Caroline's father had no intention of leaving before Bradford, and Caroline couldn't think of a way to get the duke alone.

Both father and daughter walked with Bradford to the entryway. "I'll look forward to receiving a note from you," Caroline said as a hint. "No later than tomorrow morning," she added, "or I will be forced to make other arrangements."

"Are you going to Claymere's bash tonight?" the earl asked Bradford. "It should prove an interesting evening. Little Clarissa is to play the spinet and her sister is going to sing."

Bradford couldn't think of anything more amusing. "I'm going to wear Cook's apron so that the viscount won't ruin my gown," Caroline interjected. Her father shot her a look that told her the remark was not the thing, and Caroline lowered her eyes in embarrassment. She really must learn to keep her mouth shut, she thought. Heavens, was she becoming a chatterbox like Charity, telling her every thought?

Bradford appreciated her jest. "Both Milford and I will be in attendance," he promised even as he wondered how he would twist an invitation out of Clay-mere. He knew the viscount wanted to court Caroline

He couldn't allow it, of course. No one was going to have Caroline Richmond but Jered Marcus Benton.

"Does every party begin past bedtime?" Caroline asked her father. She yawned. The rocking motion of the enclosed carriage lulled her into a sleepy state.

"You're an early riser," Charity remarked. "I slept until noon and feel wonderful," she added. "Caroline, do pinch your cheeks again. You look pale." Caroline complied, yawning once again.

"I believe you will both enjoy yourselves tonight," the earl announced. "The Claymeres are a fine family. Did I tell you that the viscount's little sisters are going to perform for us?"

Caroline nodded. She closed her eyes for the rest of the journey and listened to the conversation that flowed between her father and her cousin. Charity was in a fine pitch, since Bradford's note had arrived earlier in the evening. The note was scrawled in a bold style and was to the point. He wrote that he would arrive at ten in the morning and would escort Charity and Caroline to Bleachley's. His last line asked, "Is that considerate enough for you?"

Once Caroline had received Bradford's help, she explained the situation to her father. He agreed to allow her to go, but added that she was to be back by one o'clock so that they could go to her uncle's home for afternoon tea.

Bradford hadn't arrived before them, and Caroline was disappointed. The viscount kept her busy and wide awake. He stepped on her toes more than once and his apologies were more painful than the injury. He simply didn't know when to stop, and his kindness drove Caroline to distraction.

Bradford arrived just minutes before the recital began. Caroline was seated in the back row, with Charity on one side and her father on the other. It wasn't an accidental arrangement. Caroline had forced both of them down beside her so that the viscount would have to sit elsewhere.

Little Clarissa turned out to be a good fifty pounds overweight. She took a long while getting ready and then began to play, again and again, until Caroline lost count of the number of beginnings. The poor girl was trying her best but that proved only adequate. Caroline closed her eyes and tried to listen. And then she drifted off to sleep.

Bradford leaned against the far wall, trying not to let his face mirror his thoughts. He vowed that if that girl began just one more time, he would leap across the audience, grab Caroline, and make for the door.

Milford entered the room, circled the group, and came to stand beside his friend. "What has you grinning?" he asked his friend in a low voice so as not to disturb the Claymere chit.

"The fact that I am here, suffering this mockery of Mozart so that I can be close to Caroline," Bradford admitted.

"And where is she?" Milford asked, glancing around the room.

Bradford looked to the back row and then started to laugh. Several people glanced over at him and he nodded a greeting, trying all the while to regain his bored look. "She's in the middle of the back row, sleeping."

"So she is," Milford whispered with a chuckle. "Smart girl," he remarked.

Caroline slept through little Clarissa's recital. There was a brief flurry, a slight intermission, while Clarissa waited for her sister to prepare her music.

The Earl of Braxton took the opportunity to change seats, for he was eager to hear Catherine Claymere. The viscount had promised that Catherine was quite wonderful and was gifted with a clear sopranic voice. When Charity followed her uncle, both Bradford and Milford took their chairs. Bradford sat on Caroline's right and Milford flanked her left side. "Do we nudge her awake?" Milford lazily inquired.

"Only if she begins to snore," Bradford replied. "God, she's beautiful when she sleeps," he said.

"Are you still getting her out of your blood?" Milford asked with lazy interest.

Bradford didn't answer. He had thought, in the beginning, to take what he wanted and then give her up to another. That plan was displeasing now. He was saved from answering when Clarissa launched into the opening for her sister.

It was almost pleasant, until Catherine opened her mouth and began to sing. The sound was ear-piercing. Bradford was pleased by it, however, because the horrid noise jarred Caroline. She visibly jumped, grabbed hold of Bradford's thigh, and let out a gasp.

Then she remembered where she was and what she was about. She blushed, more because she had fallen asleep than because of her odious reaction to the woman screeching like a trapped bird.

Bradford covered her hand with his, and only then did she realize where she had placed it. She pulled away, giving him a disgruntled look, and turned to immediately smile at Milford.

"Tell me your trick so that I may sleep through this ordeal," Milford whispered.

Caroline had to lean in his direction to hear what he was saying and found herself suddenly hauled back by Bradford.

She folded her hands in her lap and ignored Bradford, staring straight ahead. Bradford stretched and before she could stop him, his arm was draped around her shoulders. She tried to shrug him off but it was a useless endeavor. "Behave yourself," she muttered. "What will people think?"

"That I have staked a claim," Bradford returned. His fingers began to massage the back of Caroline's neck and she found herself fighting the heady sensation.

"Your friend lacks all manners," she told a grinning Milford.

"I have told him so on numerous occasions," Milford whispered back.

She knew, from the silly expression on his face, that she would get no help from him and sighed with exasperation. Then she tried to stand up and find another chair. Heaven help her, she would take a place in the front row and suffer through Catherine's vocal fits if she had to.

Bradford wouldn't let her move. He applied subtle pressure on her shoulders.

"I really wish to be excused," Caroline whispered. She tried then to outstare him, thinking to embarrass him. She failed with that plan, for Bradford just stared back, grinning a lopsided grin that tugged at her heart.

When Catherine finished singing, there was a polite round of applause. Several people started to stand, including Bradford and Caroline, but then Catherine launched into another song. Everyone collapsed back into their chairs-everyone but Caroline, who took advantage of the opportunity and scooted out of the row. She smiled because Bradford was powerless to stop her.

She hurried up the stairs after asking the maid where she could freshen up. There were several people milling about on the lower floor, but the second story was curiously deserted. At the end of a long corridor Caroline found the washroom. There was a full-length mirror inside and Caroline took her time primping.