one quick breath before they stepped through wide doors into the ballroom.In her most fanciful imaginings she would have never thought to see such a sight. Feathery plumes ofevery imaginable color-crimson, fuchsia, royal blue, canary yellow-bobbed above the waves of society people and aristocrats whose headpieces were so tall and so bejeweled that she wondered at the strength of the Englishwoman's neck. From the tops of their heads to the jewels on their toes the women of the ton were a most impressive sight of ornamental humanity. They sparkled, they glowed, they glittered as if it had snowed diamonds.

"The duke and duchess of Belmore!"

Her heart stopped. A second later they stepped into the swelling crowd and an ocean of eager and speculative eyes turned toward them.

"Take a deep breath or you'll faint." Alec slid his arm out of her grip and casually wrapped it around her waist, holding her under the pretext of guiding her through the crowded room.

She gulped a mouthful of air and let him prod her ahead, walking through the throng unseeing.

"I say!"

At the sound of the viscount's familiar voice, she focused on the first friendly face she'd seen. She did breathe then-a deep, relieved breath. The earl was with him. The other men parted to make room for them, and the earl took her hand. "Your Grace." He made his bow, then looked at Alec. "Loveliest woman in the room, Belmore."

"I daresay. Downe's right," the viscount added with his own bow.

From some distance away came the grating screech of another acquaintance, Lady Agnes Voorhees. "Oh! Look who's just arrived, Eugenia! Claire!"

Joy could have sworn she heard Alec grinding his teeth.

"Henry!" Lady Agnes rammed her elbow into her husband's ribs. "Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo! Come along, Henry! Don't dawdle or you'll make me miss them again!"

"Bloody hell," Alec muttered, his eyes on the woman who was blazing a trail toward them in spite of the crowd. "That woman's enough to make me faint."

"I believe certain... childhood ailments... have the same effect, Belmore," the earl said quietly, wearing that goading smirk.

Alec glared at him.

"Or possibly," the earl continued, making a mocking bow, "a fair damsel's sweet kiss." All the while he stared at Joy's mouth. She wanted to zap a pair of blinders on the man.

"Downe's right. I forgot all about that. One minute you were grinding your lips on your wife-beg pardon, Joy, but we were there-and the next, whop! right on the floor." Neil stopped, an idea widening his features. "D'you suppose that's what all this brouhaha is about the waltz? I must say, looked fairly risque to me. Had me pretty uncomfortable until you scared the bloody wits out of us by hitting the floor. Tell me, Belmore, is the rash gone?"

"Judging by our friend's cold glare, Seymour, I'd say you're moving into a sensitive subject."

"You brought it up, Downe. I was just inquiring about a friend's health, him having been sick and all."

"Come along, Henry! Why, Lord Seymour, did you say someone has been ill? Who's been ill?" Lady Agnes asked, almost breathless from her rush to get to them. She all but jerked her husband to her side. As if conjured up by a conniving fate, Lady Eugenia and Claire Timmons popped up like lackeys to their Lady Agnes, both women intently awaiting a response.

Grinning, the earl leaned over to Alec and whispered, "What'll you offer me to keep quiet?""My word that I won't beat your bloody brains out," Alec shot back in a low but lethal voice."Don't tell me your poor bride has been ill." Lady Agnes slapped a hand over her bejeweled chest. "That explains why we haven't seen you about town. Now what ails you, my dear?""Her Grace," Alec reminded her with a cold stare."Oh. Why, yes, do forgive me, Your Grace. I forgot."In a voice as chilly as the winter air Alec said, "Don't forget again."The silence in the immediate area became a physical thing, tense and heavy. The twin gossips' eyes grew wide, and they cowered under the ducal glare. Joy thought them more prudent than Lady Agnes who,having lost only half her wind, launched onward, "Well, I cannot tell you how truly honored I was to bethe one to spread the good word of your sudden marriage. 'Twas the talk of the ton for days." And sheblithered onward.

Joy felt Alec's forearm tense. Hoping to ease the tension she leaned toward him and quietly whispered,"Shall I give her a wart?"

The look he gave her showed his panic."That was a jest," she whispered quickly. He seemed to relax, and she couldn't resist adding, "Perhapsjust a wee one on her nose."

"I do not find that amusing," he said out of the corner of his tight mouth.

"I do." She knew he was watching her, so she turned her gaze to the woman's nose and gave it what shehoped was a speculative eyeing."Don't even think about it," Alec gritted in her ear.Meanwhile Lady Agnes had gone into a new dissertation on who was present and with whom and who was absent and why. "Even Lady Juliet is here tonight," she added with a sly look Joy didn't understand.

The gossips tittered, but that was the only sound within five feet.From her husband's cold look, Joy was sure that at that moment, if he were a warlock, Lady Agneswould have the waited face of a toad. Completely nonplussed by the icy look, she turned to Joy andsmiled sweetly. "Have you met Lady Juliet, Your Grace?"

"I haven't had the pleasure. Who-" she began, then almost yelped when Alec gripped her arm.

"I meant to tell you, Belmore," Neil deftly cut in. "Addersley's been looking for you. Something aboutthat horse you've been wanting."Before anyone could respond, the earl of Downe stepped in front of Joy and said, "Her Grace promised me a dance, Belmore."

Joy glanced at Alec, confused at the quick change of subject and apprehensive about her first dance in public. She would rather have danced with her husband, but she could feel a hundred pairs of eyes watching her, assessing her, expecting something from her. She could feel her skin crawl.

"You go on," Alec said, placing her hand in Richard's. "I need to see Addersley." Then he gave her a warning glance that said, "No magic." Apparently satisfied at her nod, he turned and left, looking back only once, probably to make certain that no one was levitating.

The earl moved onto the dance floor after gallantly reminding her what dance the tune suggested, and a moment later she was caught up in her first real country dance. Again she saw a different earl of Downe, the man of whom Alec had spoken. He executed an allemande and said, "I'm not sure I like the look on your face. What flaw am I exposing this time?"

"No flaw. I was just thinking that I like you better when you have no drink in your hand," she answered bluntly.

"How odd," he countered in a manner too offhand. "I like myself better when I have."

"Why?"

He looked down at her, his expression a battleground. "False courage. Then I really don't give a damn."

She tried to think of some response, but the music stopped. When she looked at him, her thoughts must have shone in her face because he said, "Don't pity me, Joy. I like what I've become. It's easier." Then with that fake sardonic smile he led her through the crowd to a quiet corner where Neil stood waiting. They argued for a few minutes over what she should have to drink and who would fetch it. The earl won, but before he left, the viscount grabbed his arm and said, "Only lemonade. Nothing else, Downe."

The earl grinned and patted his empty coat pocket. With a wink at Joy he headed toward the refreshments.

"Alec should be back in a few minutes," Neil commented, then snapped open a jeweled box, pinched some powder, sniffed it up his nose, then sneezed into a lace-edged handkerchief.

Frowning at the dusty contents of small jeweled box, she asked, "What is that powder?"

"Snuff."

"What's it for?"

"Never seen it? It's tobacco powder. Makes you sneeze. Clears the head and all that rot. And this is m'lucky snuff case. See here?" He held the case up to her just as a garden door opened and a breeze ruffled through the room, sending the fine brown powder right into her face.

She slammed a hand over her nose and mouth, trying desperately not to sneeze, knowing what might result if she did sneeze.

He snapped the case closed. "Sorry about that. Ought to sneeze and get it out. You'll feel better." He must have seen the fear in her eyes, because he patted her hand. "No need to worry about decorum. Everyone does it. Quite the thing, you know. Go ahead. Sneeze."

She shook her head and pinched her itchy nose closed. Don't think. Don't think!

"I say, Joy, ought to just sneeze it out."

"I hate to sneeze," she told him, her voice muffled behind her hand, her eyes tearing. She glanced up to see the earl.

"Some lemonade." He held a glass out to her and waited, and waited. She was afraid to take it.

"What's the matter?" he finally asked.

"Got some of my snuff." Neil held up his snuff box.

"No wonder she's crying, Seymour. The stuff is vile. Here." He held out the glass again. "Drink up. The lemonade should take the sting away."

Joy locked her eyes on the glass, held her breath, and reached for it, then promptly sneezed. She peeled her eyes open slowly, trying to remember what her last thought was. The two men stared at her like doting brothers, nothing unusual in their faces. She scanned the immediate area. The dance floor was filled with happy guests. The music played clear and sweet, and the crowd appeared unchanged. She looked up and saw nothing unusual. The chandeliers still shimmered gaily, nothing out of the ordinary. No roses, no riding crops, no tambourines. She breathed a relieved sigh and sipped the drink.

"I say. Look there."

Joy and the earl followed Neil's gaze.

"Where d'you suppose Prinny found lemon trees in February?" Neil asked.

"Hothouses," she answered quickly, staring at the long line of potted lemon trees.

Neil went on, "Not a smart place to line those pots up. Blocks the terrace doors, you know. I say. Look there, behind those trees. Ain't that Belmore and Addersley?"

She turned just as Alec walked inside from the terrace with another man. They parted and Alec turned, looking right at the trees. He turned back to the terrace doors, then back to the room as if to get his bearings. He frowned thoughtfully and then, very slowly, with lethal precision, his gaze moved from the trees directly to her. She tried to look innocent and must have failed, because he was obviously livid. He shoved two pots aside and stepped through them, never taking his eyes off her.

That look would have panicked even the most confident soul, which she was not at the moment. Quickly she glanced at Neil and twiddled her fingers. He turned, his face a tad dazed. "I feel the sudden need to dance with Her Grace." He extended his arm and away they went, into the intricate figures of a country dance and out of Alec's reach.

The steps took most of her concentration, but every so often she looked up and saw Alec standing at the edge of the crowd only a few feet away. Then her partner would lead her away to the swift beat of the music. The dance ended, but luck was shining down on her this night, because she was safely at one end of the ballroom while her glaring husband stood at the other. Before he could get to her, she was off again, this time to the tune of a lively schottische. Neil had mentioned that he thought the dance might be too fast for her, but she assured him at this moment she was in need of a fast dance.

For the next twenty minutes the duke and duchess of Belmore played cat and mouse. Whenever hewended his way near her, her eyes widened and she twirled away. His face revealed his frustration and apromise of retribution. She pretended not to see it and smiled at her partner whenever they moved pastAlec.

Two dances later she lost sight of him, but since he had last been immersed in conversation with a smallgroup of men, she decided he must have given up for now. She was certain he would lecture her abouther behavior later, but for now she felt safe. The last dance ended, her partner made his bow, and sheturned-and stared into the intricate folds of a white cravat adorned with an emerald and gold stickpin inthe shape of the Belmore crest.

"Oh, dear," she mumbled just as his hands tightened on her upper arms. A second later he pulled heraway to a spot where they could speak privately."Get rid of them," he hissed.

"But surely everyone's seen them by now."He glanced over to where a group of guests were fingering the bright yellow fruit on the potted trees. Heturned on her with a look of fury. His jaw was clenched tight, and his next words were almost groundout. "What the devil did you think you were doing? Lemon trees in February?"

"It was an accident, truly. And there are hothouses.""Dammit, wife-"She placed her hand on his arm and explained, "The snuff made me sneeze. Please don't be angry."A dawning light hit his eyes. "Seymour?"She nodded, feeling a little sheepish. "It just blew right into my face. I'm sorry."His anger drained away and, frowning, he rubbed two fingers over the bridge of his nose. "Bloody hell. I forgot about his penchant for snuff." He looked at her, then he said, "Do me a favor, Scottish."Surprisingly she stared into eyes that held no anger and a tinge of forgiveness, and nodded."Keep clear of anyone with a snuff box." He turned then, his gaze scanning the room. A footman in royal livery chose that exact moment to approach them."His Royal Highness is waiting," the man told Alec, who nodded and indicated they should follow.Utter fear swept through her. She took two steps, then came to a halt."What is it?" Alec asked."I'm frightened.""You'll do fine," he said with an assurance she was far from feeling. "He's only another Englishman. Try to think of it that way. Like me, he's just English.""My knees feel Scottish," she muttered. That drew an odd look from him. If she hadn't known better,she would have believed he was actually amused.

"Just curtsy. You'll be on my arm, before and after. And don't look at him or rise until he speaks."

She stared unseeing at the back of the footman. "I'll remember."

"And don't forget to breathe."

She nodded and took a deep breath.

"You're the duchess of Belmore." His warm hand slid over hers as he led her from the large ballroom into a narrow hallway. "And you look lovely, Scottish."

She smiled then, his approval doing rejuvenating things to her confidence, and as they stopped outside a set of double doors she turned her face toward his, but there was no time for words. The doors opened.

"The duke and duchess of Belmore!"

The heat from the room hit her like a blast from a bonfire. Instantly perspiration beaded all over her skin. Inside the stifling room was a group of people in full court dress. All eyes were riveted on her.

Alec's hand still covered hers and he squeezed it, then whispered, "Breathe." She did and a second later they stopped. The next thing she knew he released her hand and introduced her, and then she was in a full curtsy-head bowed, shoulders straight, her hands gripping her skirts, and her Scottish knees shimmying like aspen leaves. The silence went on. If the man didn't speak soon she was going to shame her husband by falling face down on the floor. She remembered Alec's comment and took a deep breath, knowing it was probably the last movement her wee body could make.

"Ah, my lady duchess."

Joy almost crumbled to the floor with relief. Slowly straightening, she gave him a smile, but it faltered when her knees cracked like Christmas walnuts. Even Alec heard them. She caught his wince out of the corner of her eye.

"Lovely, Belmore. We are impressed. You always did have a good eye." The prince regent studied her, rather rudely and quite thoroughly. Joy just stood there, her smile plastered to her lips, her heart pounding and her knees aching, amazed that this man was the future monarch of England. He had a large midriff, although there were no rolls of flesh bulging from his buttoned coat. He looked puffed up.

His hair was a golden red and swept upward from his wide forehead in a comblike wave. That hair, combined with his thin bandy legs, gave him the distinct look of a plump rooster. He even had a few red chins that rested wattlelike against a pinch-folded cravat.

She sneezed.

The prince regent opened his mouth. And crowed. Heads turned and stared at him, but he apparently didn't notice and kept on talking to her as if nothing unusual had happened.

Unfortunately, Alec had noticed. He did, however, keep his composure, continuing to speak quietly and briefly, his hands gripping her close. She had a feeling he had some ruthless way to stop her should she chance to sneeze again. Calmly he carried most of the conversation until the prince requested they dine at his personal table, and her husband became suddenly quiet.

"We desire to better know your lady duchess, Belmore." And with that pronouncement they were dismissed and the prince regent turned and moved across the room, an odd creaking sound following inhis wake.

"What's that sound?" she whispered."His corset." Once they were well out of whispering distance he asked, "What the devil were youthinking when you sneezed?"

She didn't want to tell him, but his hand tightened on hers as he led her from the room. "I thought he

looked like a rooster."Once they were back in the hallway he wordlessly handed her a handkerchief. "Blow until all the snuff'sgone."

She did as he asked, allowing him to use his body to hide her actions from the rest of the room. Shelooked up at him."Finished?" he asked."Yes.""You're certain?"

She nodded. "No one appeared to notice when he crowed.""The prince can sometimes be as eccentric as his mad father. I suppose we should be thankful peopletend not to question royal behavior."

She nodded, chewing her lip, then looked up at him from wary eyes. "Are you angry?"

He stared down at her for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I have to admit, Scottish, he does looklike a rooster." Then he actually laughed. For the first time since the inn, he laughed.She released her held breath, and a smile of blinding happiness came unbidden to her lips. He watched her for a long time until he began to look uncomfortable, so she looked away. The moment was lost.Without another comment he guided her back into the ballroom, where they stood on the rim of thecrowd.

"I do, however, believe this is going to be a long night." His face stayed taut, but he loosened his hold.Before she could ponder what he meant, the haunting strains of a waltz rippled through the ballroom, causing gasps of outrage and titters of eager laughter. The dance floor emptied, and remained so. Noone dared to move into the dance.She watched the crowd close tighter and saw secrets being whispered behind a bevy of fans as the guests hesitated. "What are they waiting for?"

"Looks as if no one wants to be the first to begin waltzing. The dance is still considered improper inmany circles.""Are they just going to stand there?""Until someone throws caution to the wind, I'd say yes, the floor will remain empty."

"I suppose everyone knows that the duke and duchess of Belmore wouldn't dare be the first couple to waltz."

"Is that a challenge, Scottish?"

Her shrug said he could take it any way he wanted.