Rendezvous by Amanda Quick

then, how about more current news?" Peter said, beginning to show some interest in the conversation. "There's the rather mysterious manner in which Miss Ballinger's brother was killed two years ago."
    "He was shot dead by a highwayman on the way home from London."
    "That's the official story. Things were hushed up, but according to Sally there was some speculation at the time that the young man was involved in highly questionable activities."
    Harry scowled. "Bound to be some speculation and gossip when a young rakehell is cut down by violence. Everyone knows Richard Ballinger was a hotheaded, neck-or-nothing sort, just like his father before him."
    "Yes, well, speaking of the father," Peter murmured with relish, "have you pondered the reputation the man had for fighting duels because of his wife's penchant for drawing the wrong sort of attention? Aren't you afraid that sort of problem might continue in the current generation? Some say Augusta is very much like her mother."
    Harry set his jaw, aware that Peter was deliberately baiting him. "Ballinger was a reckless idiot. From what Sir Thomas has told me, the man exercised no control over his wife. He allowed her to run wild. I do not intend to permit Augusta to get into the sort of trouble that will oblige me to go about making dawn appointments. Only a fool finds himself fighting a duel over a woman."
    "Pity. I think you'd be rather good at them. Duels, I mean. There have been times when I have actually believed you had ice instead of blood in your veins, Harry. And everyone knows cold-blooded men do better than hot-blooded ones on the dueling field."
    "That is a theory I do not intend to test personally." Harry frowned as he watched Lovejoy whirl Augusta around in a particularly uninhibited turn on the dance floor. "If you will excuse me, I believe I shall claim a dance with my fiancée."
    "Do that. You can entertain her with some elevating lectures on propriety." Peter levered himself away from the wall. "In the meantime, I believe I shall ruin the Angel's evening by requesting a dance. Five to one she turns me down flat."
    "Try talking to her about the book she is writing," Harry suggested absently as he set down his glass on a passing tray.
    "What book is that?"
    "I believe Sir Thomas said the title was
A Guide to Useful Knowledge for Young Ladies
."
    "Good God." Peter looked suitably appalled. "Is every woman in London writing a book?"
    "It would appear so. Cheer up," Harry advised. "You might learn something useful."
    He moved off into the crowd, forging a path through the colorful throng. His progress was halted on several occasions by acquaintances who insisted on detaining him long enough to offer congratulations on the engagement.
    During the past two days, in fact, ever since the notices had appeared in the papers, Harry had become well aware that most of Society was quite intrigued by the announcement of the unexpected alliance.
    Lady Willoughby, a stout matron dressed in pink, rapped her fan on the black sleeve of Harry's evening coat as he went past. "So it's Miss Augusta Ballinger who made it to the top of your list, eh, my lord? Never would have guessed the two of you would make a match of it. But then, you've always been a deep one, haven't you, Graystone?"
    "I assume you are congratulating me on my engagement," Harry said coolly.
    "But of course, sir. All of Society is happy to congratulate you. We are expecting the entire affair to provide us with considerable entertainment this Season, you see."
    Harry narrowed his eyes. "No, madam, I do not see."
    "Come, now, my lord, you must admit this is all bound to be wonderfully amusing. You and Augusta Ballinger are such an unlikely pair, are you not? It will be vastly interesting to see if you can get her to the altar without being obliged to fight any duels or without requesting her uncle to ship her off to the country. She's a Northumberland Ballinger, you know. Troublesome lot, that branch of the family."
    "My