"Major Sturgeon," she said in a level, carrying voice, "I'm sorry to say that after all we should not suit. My affections are previously engaged."

In the silence that met her words, she bit her lip and brushed the feather back out of her eyes. Major Sturgeon stared at her, his mouth a hard, set line.

Trev pulled his mask down from his face. A ripple of sound went about the ballroom, faint murmurs of surprise and wonder.

With a slight, ugly laugh, the major said, "As you will, then, madam. I wish you joy of your bargain." He gave a short bow and turned his back on them, striding away with the crowd parting before him.

Someone began to clap enthusiastically. It was Hermey. Her fiancé joined her. Another took it up. Callie blinked around her, realizing with bewilder ment that everyone was applauding. Trev grinned and took her hand, bending deeply to kiss it. Then he pulled her close to him, as if to kiss her cheek, but instead he whispered fiercely in her ear, "We must go. No farewells, I'm sorry."

She let him lead her—if not quite drag her—past Hermey and Dolly and the other clapping guests, who seemed to be taking it all as part of the entertain ment. Even Dolly was applauding with a rather wild enthusiasm. She gave a frenzied wave toward the conductor, and the orchestra started up again, so that Callie and Trev made a grand exit to the rising strains of an Austrian galop.

He still had her by the hand when they reached the archway to the stable range. There he stopped and pulled her into his arms and kissed her until Callie was in danger of losing not only her feathers but her wits.

"We'll have to steal a horse, I fear," he said, letting go. "You've cast in your lot with me now; I hope you won't shy away from a felony here and there."

Callie lifted her foot to worry at a piece of gravel that had found its way into her slipper as they'd run pell-mell across the drive. "Steal a horse? Why?" She hopped on one leg, holding onto him for balance.

"We're in a great hurry, ma mie. You'll have to become accustomed to it, at least until we're out of England. Sit down." He pushed her onto the mounting block and reached down to pull her slipper free, shaking it out. But he paused in his great hurry long enough to slide his hand up her ankle. He lifted her stockinged foot and kissed the arch of it. "I adore your petticoats and bells, my love, but this is the last time you show them in public."

Callie retrieved her shoe from him. "Let's steal my horse," she suggested.

He gave a nod, rising. "A good notion," he said approvingly. "Strictly speaking, it won't be a crime, eh?"