am a respectable widow about to be courted again, and I don't want a family about inhibiting my suitors.'

Caroline Worth giggled. 'Lucinda, you are truly dreadful! Will you try them all, and make your decision by those means?'

'Why, Caro, what on earth do you mean?' Lucinda said primly, but her eyes were brimming with merriment.

'If you send Rexford's servants away, who is to cook dinner?' the portly bishop demanded

'Dinner is probably already prepared,' Lucinda said. 'Polly and John can serve us. Caro, you and Georgie have your servants with you, I'm certain. So we shall muddle through nicely. I will write a note to Rexford, thanking him for his generosity, but explaining why I cannot possibly accept it. John, is the luggage unloaded?'

'Yes, m'lady,' the footman said.

'Polly, fetch my writing box, and tell James he is not to depart without my note to the duke, his master.'

'Yes, m'lady,' Polly replied with a curtsey.

'Now,' Lucinda said, 'let us adjourn into the salon.'

In the morning her brother and his wife departed much to Lucinda's relief. 'We need servants,' Lucinda told John and Polly. 'Not a great staff, but a good one.'

'What will you need?' John asked her. He had worked in Lord Bowen's London house for six years prior to going to The Master.

'It's a small household,' Lucinda considered. 'A butler, perferably one who can read, write and keep the accounts,' she began. 'Six footmen, two footboys, a cook, a housekeeper, two chambermaids, three housemaids, a laundry maid, two scullery maids. Where will you find them?'

'I know plenty of servants in many of the big houses. There's always someone looking to move up the ladder, or unhappy with their position. I'll have us staffed in just a few days, m'lady. I'll pick only the best and bring 'em to you to interview.'

John was as good as his word, but her lack of a staff that first week in London allowed Lucinda to avoid her eager suit-ors for several days, although they all called upon her the very next day after George had departed back to Wellington. Her footman showed the trio into Lucinda's morning room, for they had all arrived at her door at practically the same moment, their carriages drawing up one behind the other. Lucinda greeted them in an embroidered, rose-colored, sack-back dress with lace edging about the neckline. They tumbled into the room like a group of unruly puppies in their eagerness to see her, and gain her favor.

'My lords!' Lucinda's hand went to her throat as if surprised. 'You take me unawares! I am hardly ready to receive visitors, even such distinguished gentlemen as yourselves. Please do be seated. May I offer you some sherry? John, please pour for our guests.' She smiled at them and shrugged prettily. 'I fear I am practically servantless at the moment and not able to properly entertain you.'

'You should not be without servants if you had accepted the staff I sent you,' the Duke of Rexford said sharply.

'You sent Lady Lucinda a staff?' Lord Bertram sounded quite offended by the knowledge.

'She sent them back,' the duke grumbled.

'As she should have,' the Marquess of Hargrave spoke up. 'It was extremely cheeky of you, Rexford. Lady Lucinda has not yet, to my knowledge, made her decision.'

'No, my lords, I have not,' Lucinda told them sweetly. 'Instead of judging you so harshly as I did last spring, I am going to give you all an equal chance to win both my hand and my heart. But I must beg you to accept a few little ground rules I think may help us avoid any dissension or confusion. To begin with, I thank you for coming to welcome me back to London.' She smiled, and they all beamed back, each convinced that her smile was directed more at him than at his rivals. 'I do not, however, wish to see any of you again until next week. I need time to hire my staff and get my house in order. Why, several of the dinner plates from Dr. Wall's pottery in Worcester arrived broken!'

'How dreadful,' Lord Bertram said.

'Allow me to replace them,' the duke said.

'Do you think you can purchase Lady Lucinda's favor?' the marquess demanded angrily of the duke.

'My lords! My lords! Please, I beg you, do not quarrel,' Lucinda pleaded prettily, 'but as you seem unable to be civil with one another, you will understand my next request of you. Each of you will call upon me twice a week. The duke on Mondays and Thursdays. The marquess on Tuesdays and Fridays. Lord Bertram on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sunday I reserve for myself to attend church and rest. We will begin with a morning call. Then we shall move to afternoon tea, and then, perhaps, an evening party. That way you shall each have an equal chance with me. We shall be seen in public enough so that when my brother announces my betrothal none will think it strange, for they will have seen that we have resolved our former differences of last season.' She smiled again at them. 'I do think it is a most sensible plan, my lords.'

'Very sensible!' the duke agreed.

'Capital.' The marquess nodded.

'Practical,' Lord Bertram approved.

Lucinda arose from the settee where she had been sitting. 'Then, my lords, until next week when we begin anew.' She held out her hand to them, and each kissed it as she murmured, 'Good day, my lord duke. Good day, my lord marquess. Good day, Lord Bertram.' And they were gone.

As Lucinda had come up to town in her brother's traveling carriage, she was now without transport. She purchased a beautiful little town coach that could seat four. It was not new, but had been previously owned by a gentleman who had recently retired to the country. It was in excellent condition. Four matching gray horses were included in the sale, as was the former owner's coachman. The coach and horses were stabled two streets away with the coachman, who lived above the stables. By the end of her first week back in London, her household was in order, and she had even found a fashionable modiste to make her some new gowns. Lucinda was ready to receive her suitors. It was six weeks until the Countess of Whitely's ball.

On Sunday evening Lucinda called John and Polly to her. 'I promised you when we arrived in London I should tell you the identity of The Master. It will be our secret. The gentleman in question is Lucian Robert Charles Phillips, the Earl of Stanton.'

'But what good does it do you, m'lady,' Polly said, 'if you are never to see him again and must marry another?'

'Polly, did I not say I would not have that trio of villains? You must trust me. I promised my brother he would announce my betrothal at the Whitley ball. I did not say to whom that betrothal would be.'

'And will his lordship be agreeable?' John asked, suddenly understanding his mistress's plan.

Lucinda chuckled. 'Do you think he won't be, John?' she replied.

Now it was the footman who chuckled. 'He'll be surprised, m'lady, he will. You'll forgive me if I say that you're a deep one. But I don't think he'll be unhappy about such a turn of events.'

'This does not go beyond this room,' Lucinda told them, and they both nodded. 'Now, the first banns for your marriage were read this morning in church. Two more Sundays, then you will marry, my dears, and you shall have a hundred pounds from me as a wedding gift.'

The two servants thanked her profusely. A hundred pounds was a very, very generous gift.

The following morning the Duke of Rexford arrived at eleven to be ushered into Lucinda's bedchamber. She was sitting up in her bed, a lacy shawl about her shoulders, having her breakfast. She smiled, and held out her hand to him. 'Richard, good morning! Is it that late already? I have had such a busy week last week and am exhausted.'

He kissed her hand, his eyes lingering at the spot where the shawl's two sides met. He was certain her breasts were bare beneath. 'You look as fresh as a daisy, my dear,' he said, sitting on the edge of her bed, but careful not to tilt her breakfast tray.

'Polly, get his lordship a saucer of tea. I keep an excellent stock of leaf that my brother William sends from India.'

'When are you going to cease this game and agree to marry me, Lucinda?' he said.

'Now, Richard, you must not press me. I shall not make my decision until the very night of the Whitley ball.' She smiled seductively.

'Yer tea, yer lordship,' Polly said, pushing the fragile cup and its deep saucer into his hand.

On Tuesday Lucinda entertained the Marquess of Hargrave in her back garden as she cut roses, the dew still

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