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The question was forward, but he was an American and most likely would not realize it. Besides, he was being unpleasantly blunt himself. "Perhaps I can steer you away from those who would play unkind games with a visitor to our country." She wanted to know if the gossip had any roots in the truth. Finding out who had spread it would certainly lead her closer to the truth of the matter.
    He leaned forward slightly, as if to whisper to her in confidence. To her frustration, however, all he said was "Even as a backward American, I have the discretion not to reveal my sources and cause them embarrassment."
    "That is certainly commendable, Mr. Hopkins." She studied his closed expression, wondering if there was a key that might open it to her. Only when he smiled at his sister had he seemed in the least approachable. She thought of her own brother. Perhaps she might find a key to him through his sister: A quick glance at the room led only to disappointment. Miss Hopkins was happily dancing in the arms of a handsome young man.
    "Your approval of my discretion is all I desire." Again, she sensed the mockery, although the sentiment was not apparent in the controlled set of his features.
    "I cannot give my approval if I do not know who has been whispering in your ear, Mr. Hopkins." She pressed him, presenting him her most charming and persuasive face, although she felt flirting was wasted on this backward colonial, since he seemed to have only two expressions — stern and sterner. "Can you not at least give me a name? Just one?"
    At the very least she must know whether to risk scandal by approaching Pendrake and demanding an explanation. She would not want to look a fool if the gossip was wrong and he confessed that his heart belonged to Elizabeth Forsdyke. She found herself unable to believe such a thing, though. Pendrake, loving the drab Miss Forsdyke?
    He shook his head. "I'm afraid I must live without your approval, then. For I will give no gossip a name."
    Juliet considered trying again to draw him out, but his face was set impassively, and she could sense that her efforts would likely not prevail. "Very well, I commend your sense of discretion, sir," she lied, adding a more outrageous untruth, "I myself never indulge in gossip. Small minds, you know."
    "I do indeed," was all he replied.
    Frustrated, Juliet decided she would simply have to find out in another manner. The difficulty was in finding someone as forthright as the American to reveal gossip to her when she was the subject. She could think of no one, not even her own sisters, who would do so. Perhaps his sister, also being American and somewhat impulsive, had heard the same gossip and might be willing to reveal it?
    She must find out the truth. She would not rest until she did. And if Pendrake had only succumbed to the pressures of family duty? Certainly that could be remedied. After all, hadn't her brother Valentine married his wife Emily even though it had caused a scandal and made her family unhappy?
    Come to think of it, hadn't Arthur turned aside an expected engagement to another woman to choose her shy sister Hero as his wife? Perhaps that was to become a family tradition. Valentine and Arthur had followed their hearts, and they were happy.
    Shouldn't she allow Pendrake the same opportunity to choose with his heart? After all, marriage was forever — and no one should enter such a sacred trust without absolute assurance.

CHAPTER THREE
    R.J. glanced down at the smoothly beautiful face that concealed a mind he could nevertheless see working furiously. He could not help but wonder what she was planning for poor Pendrake now. So she never gossiped? He'd buy London Bridge before he believe that claptrap. He did admire, however, in a rather horrified way, her ability to cut to the heart of a matter. With another woman he might have never gotten a bald admission of her desire to ask Freddie to defend his decision.
    The gossips had been cruelly accurate. This spoiled