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"Luce!"

Serena caught the sharp anger in her husband's voice and snatched her hand away guiltily. Was her cursed beauty going to destroy this friendship, too?

The marquess and his wife turned to her husband in surprise. "Homage to beauty is my way, Francis," said Lord Arden lightly. "If you want to stop me, you'll have to shoot me."

"Oh, no," said Serena. "Please! I'm sure it was all my fault...."

"Don't be a widgeon, Serena," said Beth cheerfully, and went over to kiss Francis warmly and thoroughly on the lips. "There. Now all's fair."

The tension lessened, but Serena was immensely grateful when another man strolled in the open door. "Bride and groom present?"

This rakish specimen with ginger-gold hair spoke with a trace of an Irish accent. He came over. "Welcome to the Rogue's Palace, my dear. I'm the one who provided the horse that won back your treasure. May I claim a kiss for it?"

He didn't wait for permission but kissed her soundly. Serena flashed her husband an alarmed look, but he seemed to have regained his equilibrium.

"Serena, make known Miles Cavanagh to you and,"—Francis glanced at the door—"his ward, Felicity Monahan."

The dark haired young woman who'd been standing by the door walked boldly in. "They're a devil of a bunch," she said. "If it weren't already too late, I'd warn you off."

Soon there were five strangers present, for they were joined by Sir Stephen Ball, who was blond and wry. It was a cheerful, chattering group unlike any Serena had ever known, though it did bear a faint resemblance to the parlor at Miss Mallory's during a bun-fest.

The humorous talk was of the Princess Charlotte's latest, and most likely, suitor.

"A fine figure of a man," said Miles of Prince Leopold, "even if he is another impoverished German come to batten on the Crown."

"The next monarch cannot marry someone with too strong an interest in his homeland," Beth pointed out. "History shows us how disastrous that can be."

"This one has no interest at all," replied Miles with a grin. "For interest, one requires capital, you see."

They all chuckled at that.

Serena had relaxed enough to confess some ignorance. "A prince without capital?" she asked. "Is he not rich?"

It was Stephen Ball who answered. "Leopold is the third son of a very minor principality. On his last visit, he stayed over a grocer's shop on the Marylebone High Street. This time he is lodged at the Pavilion in Brighton. It really would appear that his goose is cooked."

"That sounds as if you pity him," Serena remarked.

"That depends," said Stephen with a grin, "on whether the goose is his pet or his dinner."

Serena decided to pick up that conversational ball and tell them about Brandy.

"A puppy!" Beth exclaimed. "How sweet. Lucien, do you think...?"

"Anything you desire, as always," the marquess drawled. "But a lapdog, Beth?"

She grinned. "Wolfhounds must be puppies at one stage."

He grinned back. "Now, there's a thought."

"Typical of the idle rich," declared Miles. "Wanting wolfhounds in a country that has no wolves."

"Dear Miles," sighed Felicity, "I wish you would drop this pose of proletarian politics. You are disgustingly rich and will one day have a title."

"Ah, but I'm Irish, my dear, and that wipes out all the rest."

"No politics," said Beth firmly. "See, dinner is served."

Over the meal Serena fully relaxed. It did seem that these people at least were willing to accept her without reservation. She remembered Francis saying that as the wife of a Rogue she was a Rogue. It seemed to be true.

It was completely novel to her to be among such a relaxed group of men and women, but she thought that in time she could come to like it very well indeed.

She could not be comfortable, however, with the flirtation going on. All the men flirted with all the women as a matter of course, and Beth and Felicity seemed completely happy to flirt back. Serena thought Felicity sometimes went beyond the bounds of playfulness, but no one seemed to take offense. All the same, Serena's nerves were jumping. She was terribly afraid of causing trouble and constantly watched Francis, trying to judge his reaction.

As a result she could eat little and felt the beginning of a headache.

Beth Arden suddenly rose. "Serena, unless you have a taste for port and brandy, why don't we go and have tea."

Serena was only too happy to follow this plan, but as they left the room, she glanced back and saw the door close on Felicity there with four young men. "Beth... Lady Arden..."

"Oh, Beth, please." Beth led the way up the sweeping stairs.

"Beth, then... Do you think it wise to leave Miss Monahan unchaperoned with the men?"

"Felicity will get up to no mischief. Miles seems to have the way of handling her, even if he does occasionally choose rough measures."

That hadn't been quite what Serena had in mind, but she could imagine rough measures and shuddered. And Mr. Cavanagh had seemed such a pleasant gentleman. Did Beth think nothing of such things?

Perhaps her marriage had not been so strange after all. Perhaps she had been peculiar for finding it horrible.

Beth was chatting about the house as they walked along a corridor. Serena hardly listened as she fought an internal battle. By the time they arrived at the small saloon, she had lost and had to speak.

"Beth, I cannot think it right to leave Felicity down there with those men."

Beth stared at her in genuine perplexity. "But Miles is there. He is her guardian."

"But... but
anything
could happen."

A glimmer of comprehension entered Beth's eyes. "Serena, those men are Rogues. Now, I wouldn't go so far as to say that any one of them alone might not do something wicked, but when together... It just seems that the nobler side must win."

Serena sat. "I don't understand any of this."

"Rather different from what you've experienced before, I would think."

"Totally."

"Don't worry about Felicity. The truth is that's she's an unrepentant hoyden and would much rather be down there talking horses and hunting than up here talking husbands and babies."

A footman and maid brought in the tea tray and were dismissed.

"This is a magnificent house," said Serena. Her words were true, but she hoped they sounded more complimentary than she felt. It was too magnificent. She was delighted not to have to live in it. Even this small room carried an oppressive weight of plasterwork and gilding.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" Beth said dryly. "Even Lucien finds it so at times, and he was born to it. And wait until you see Belcraven Park."

"How do you make yourselves comfortable here?"

"We don't spend a great deal of time here. Our true home is Hartwell. It's quite a simple place down in Surrey. But as we don't keep London quarters, when we're in Town, we use the Palace. It's a kindness, really," she added. "The duke and duchess rarely come to London, but the house is kept up in case they do. The staff here grow rather bored."

"I would think keeping this monstrous place in order would be work enough for an army."

"Yes, but if no one uses it, it must seem pointless work. Now, tell me, how are you settling in as a married woman?"

Serena wasn't ready for confidences yet, and so the talk was of Summer St. Martin, and gowns, and households. Eventually, she did touch on mothers-in-law, however.

Beth pulled a face. "Francis's mother is a bit of a dragon, isn't she? No, that's not fair. She's very pleasant, but overprotective of him and inclined to be superior. I gather it was a great shock to them all when Francis's father died."

"And there are his sisters, too."

"You don't need to worry about them. Diana is in Paris with her husband, who is a diplomat, and Clara is positively entrenched in her husband's Scottish estates. Amy, the youngest, is married to Peter Layering, and he is an honorary Rogue. You'll like them, but since the birth of their first child, they're content to stay in the country."

Serena decided it was time to take Arabella's advice and bite the bullet. "Francis's mother was shocked by his marriage, though, and I gather he was generally expected to offer for Lady Anne Peckworth. His marriage to me is bound to cause talk, and once it is realized that I... that I am prematurely with child, there will be a scandal, won't there?"

"There will certainly be talk," Beth admitted. "Scandal, though? Sudden marriages do happen."

"But what of my background? My family is not well-thought-of, and with reason. Even
I
don't think well of them. And my first husband was notorious."

Beth put down her dainty cup. "I admit, there could be a problem there. It depends on how people decide to take you. The
ton
is fickle."

Serena looked at Beth directly. "What I'm asking is, is there anything I can do to improve the odds? I will do anything. I owe it to Francis to try to make a comfortable life for him, and I'm sure he would hate to be a byword."

"I don't think you
owe,
him anything," said Beth rather severely. "However, you will both be more comfortable if completely accepted. Let me think...."

After a moment, Beth said, "Francis hasn't announced the wedding yet. When he does, the notice will have to include your previous name. It's tempting to give it as Allbright, but I doubt Francis would agree; he's a stickler for honesty. Anyway, someone would be sure to know."

"Is it hopeless, then?"

"I don't think so. As Ovid says, the best defense is usually to attack. We'll have to talk to Lucien. He's much better at these social maneuvers than I am, but I think if we can get you accepted by enough important people before the news breaks, it might work. It's much harder to break a connection already established than to refuse one."

"But how could I be accepted by important people?"

"My dear," said Beth dryly, "you are already accepted by us." She laughed. "Oh, don't look so mortified. I think it absurd, too, but the fact is that as Marquess and Marchioness of Arden, and future Duke and Duchess of Belcraven, Lucien and I are among the highest of the high. The duke and duchess will support us, if I can only persuade them to come to Town. What's more, the Rogues can recruit quite a few other leaders of Society. If you are willing to brave the lions, I think we could give it a try."

That predatory image was all too close to the way Serena felt. "What if I meet someone who... who knew me as Matthew's wife?"

"Is it likely?"

"I didn't meet many people, and few were of the
haut ton.
There was one lord—a Lord Deveril..."

"He, at least, is dead," said Beth with a degree of satisfaction. "If the rest were lower in status than he, the chances of you meeting them are remote. Deveril was not accepted. If you do meet any such people, cut them."

Serena clasped her hands. "Lord, but it terrifies me. I'd much rather live in the country."

Beth said nothing, just looked at her.

Serena shook her head. "You used to do that at school, too, you wretch. I know. Hiding would do no good. Very well. By all means let us charge Society sword in hand. I just pray there is no bloodshed."

Beth immediately set in to making plans. "If we're going to fire you off, it will have to be before you and I become noticeably large. Thank heavens waists are still high."

"Waists will always be high."

"I doubt it. The move downward is already taking place. To be honest, that gown you have on is years out of date. Have you not noticed that stays are becoming more substantial, too? I fear we are seeing the demise of rational dress."

"A return to stomachers and panniers?" Serena queried. "Women will never put up with that again."

Beth made a wry face. "Nothing is too foolish for fashion. One day I will have the courage of my convictions and take to wearing trousers."

"Beth!"

"Why not? But let us not be distracted. We certainly don't want to fire you off in pantaloons. We're aiming for total respectability." She found some paper and a pencil and began making notes. "I wonder if it's fair to ask Leander to come up. An earl would help, but he is newly wed. Then there's Nicholas. It doesn't seem quite right to plan a Roguish enterprise without him. I think," she mused, "I could persuade the Duchess of Yeovil to give us her countenance. Her son was a Rogue. He died at Waterloo."

She saw Serena's glazed look and laughed. "Let's talk about Rogues, and all will become clear."

"Francis did say that they were a group of close friends."

"Rather more than that. It's more like a family, but a family such as few of us have. It is simply unthinkable that any one not help the others, except possibly in matters illegal. Only possibly," she added with a grin. "We indulged in a little housebreaking last year."

"Francis, too?" Serena was not sure what she thought of these overgrown schoolboys.

"Francis was given a safe, watching brief. I remember he was rather put out, but Nicholas pointed out that he and Steve were our only members of Parliament present, and if anything went wrong, we could need some strings pulled."