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the gown as having been sewn up in the country. No fashionable London modiste would have dressed a client in such a countrified style.
    Prudence had evidently found her fan to be a nuisance. Instead of wielding it in the fine art of flirtation, it had dangled uselessly from her wrist. Her spectacles had, of course, only added to the spectacularly unstylish effect she had managed to achieve.
    But Sebastian had seen beneath the surface of Prudence’s outlandish facade. His father had been an explorer, a skilled observer of the customs of distant peoples and of the terrain of foreign lands. He had taken his family with him on his travels and he had trained Sebastian well in the science and art of observation.
    It is in the details that one sees the truth
, Jonathan Fleetwood had often explained to his son.
Learn to look for them
.
    Tonight Sebastian had seen that Prudence’s hair was richly threaded with gold. He had observed that she had a generous, laughing mouth and an amusing little nose. There was a firm, assertive quality to her catlike chin that he found intriguing. And he had looked deep into the bottomless green pools of her eyes.
    He knew that compared to the great beauties of the
ton
her looks could only be called passable. She was not a diamond of the first water, yet she had been the only woman he had been aware of in that ballroom tonight.
    Sebastian allowed his thoughts to drift to the rest of Prudence, mentally skimming a hand over her as if he were about to undress her and take her to bed. She was slender, but gracefully rounded in all the right places. He had seen enough of her in her modest ball gown to know that her breasts would be shaped like small, ripe, exotic fruit, perfectly suited to his palm and to his mouth. The scent of her, a mixture of fresh flowers and natural womanly fragrance, still lingered in the carriage, filling his head.
    He would kiss her again soon. If he had any decency he would resist the impulse, but no one expected decency from the Fallen Angel. Just as well. He was not certain how much he possessed, himself.
    What he had in abundance was a deepening sense of the gray, formless cold that threatened to engulf him from the inside out. The only way to forget about it for even a short while was to occupy himself with his amusing little hobby. He must take it up again, and soon.
    First, however, there was the matter of Prudence’s brother.
    The carriage came to a halt at the front door of the club Sebastian favored. He had memberships at most of the best establishments, but this was the one where he always felt most comfortable. Probably because it was not one of his cousin’s preferred haunts.
    He got out, went up the steps, and into the warmth of the well-appointed masculine retreat. Several heads turned as he walked into the card room. A ripple of interest passed through the large crowd gathered about the gaming tables. Sebastian knew that gossip of the impending duel had probably reached every club in St. James.
    A tall, thin blond man detached himself from a game of whist and strolled across the room to join Sebastian.
    Sebastian watched him closely and was quietly relieved to see that Garrick Sutton’s gaze was clear again tonight. Sutton appeared to be overcoming his practice of losing himself in strong spirits, a habit he had brought back with him from the war.
    “What’s this, Angelstone? I thought you were spending the rest of the night at home preparing yourself for your dawn appointment.”
    “I’ve changed my mind, Sutton. There will be no dawn engagement. I want you, as one of my seconds, to convey my most abject apologies to Mr. Trevor Merryweather.”
    Garrick’s mouth fell open in dumbfounded amazement. Sebastian smiled. It was worth apologizing to young Merryweather just to see the amusing effect it would have on everyone.
    Garrick was one of a very small handful of people Sebastiancalled friend. Sebastian included Garrick in the select group because he was one