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he hesitated to restore it.
    Smiling at her with new warmth, he watched as she wiped her streaming eyes. No, he preferred his little Izzy to remain just as she was. A surge of possessiveness swept him but he refused to acknowledge the emotion.
    It was only that their peculiar situation made him feel responsible for her. He was indebted to her for her defense of him that night. He knew well enough he wasn't capable of any finer feelings for her than that.
    "If you are quite able to continue, my dear, we do have things to discuss," he reminded her.
    "Oh, yes, I know. I'm sorry. My imagination does run away sometimes. I was just picturing—"
    "Stop." He held up a hand as her shoulders began to shake once more. "Restrain that wayward thought, Miss Temple, or I shall be forced to call down Cousin Hildegard to restore your decorum."
    "Eww." She drew a deep breath and smiled at him.
    "There, my lord, I am quite restored. You do see, I'm sure, that I simply cannot call you by those names. We shall just have to be more formal than most." She settled near him on the settee. "Unless you have an alternative?" She smoothed her skirts and cocked an inquiring eyebrow at him.
    "Well, I do have a second name, although I have never answered to it. I quite prefer it myself, but no one has ever given me the option."
    "Really?" She leaned toward him. "You must tell me!"
    "My second name is…" He hesitated, curious for her reaction. "Julian."
    "Julian? What a marvelous name," she breathed. She drew back, considering him from boots to brow. "Yes," she decided. "It quite suits you. I shall have no trouble at all addressing you as Julian, my lord." She offered her hand playfully. "Perhaps we ought to renew our introduction. Hello, Julian, my name is Isadora."
    He clasped her small hand and brought it to his lips. "Good afternoon, my dear Isadora." He smiled at her, enjoying her play. Still holding her hand, he brought it to his heart and slid from his seat to kneel before her.
    "And now that we have been properly introduced… Isadora, my heart, my love," he teased, "will you make me the happiest man on earth? Marry me, my Isadorable!"
    He must have imagined the tremor that went through her at his words, for she merely laughed and smacked him on the shoulder with her free hand.
    "Stop it, you great buffoon."
    "Not until you agree, my precious bon-bon!" He brought her hand to his lips, then loudly and repeatedly smacked it. "My sweet, my only, my sugar-dusted comfit."
    "Oh, very well, Julian, you silly lout, I suppose I will marry you if I must." She assumed a bored tone and studied her nails with a distracted air.
    Their play halted when the parlor door flew open with a bang and Hildegard Marchwell surged into the room.
    "Izzy, you wretched girl! Spears informed me that you are entertaining a man, alone—"
    Stopping with a gasp, she surveyed the two on the settee, and the classic pose of the marriage proposal.
    "Oh! Oh, my! Lord Blackworth!" Bug-eyed with surprise, Hildegard could only gape for a moment. Her opportunistic nature made a swift recovery.
    "Oh, I should have known a man such as yourself would never dishonor an innocent girl like Izzy. Oh, we must… We must plan the wedding! Oh, it must be soon. We can have the banns read the coming two Sundays and then—"
    Rising, Lord Blackworth cut into her flustered babble. "No, Mrs. Marchwell. This will be no hurried affair." Pulling Izzy to stand with him, he placed an arm about her waist. "Isadora will not be embarrassed by an emergency ceremony. We plan to wed at the end of the season."
    "But… but that is more than four months off," stammered Hildegard. "What if… I mean to say, well, there may be circumstances—" She gulped to a halt at the thunderous look on Lord Blackworth's face.
    "My dear lady, I hope I may count on you to disregard common gossip. Isadora's virtue shall not be questioned, by you or any other. The future duchess of Dearingham must have no stain follow her."
    "Duchess!"