But she was tugging on his arm, not to be denied, and pleading, "Won't you please teach me? Please?"

"Oh, all right," he sighed, knowing that this was a most inadvisable idea.

"Oh, splendid. Where shall we start?"

"It's a lovely day today," he said, not quite able to put any feeling into the words.

"Yes, it is, but I thought we were going to concentrate on flirting."

He looked at her and then wished he hadn't. His eyes always managed to somehow slide down to her lips. "Most flirtations," he said, taking a ragged breath, "begin with the inanities of polite conversation."

"Oh, I see. All right. Begin again, then, if you will."

He took a deep breath and said flatly, "It's a lovely day today."

"It certainly is. It makes one long to spend time out of doors, don't you think?"

"We are out of doors, Henry."

"I'm pretending we're at a ball," she explained. "And may we turn into the park? Perhaps we can find a bench upon which to sit."

Dunford steered them silently into Green Park.

"May we begin again?" she asked.

"We haven't progressed much thus far."

"Nonsense. I'm certain we'll succeed once we get started. Now, I just said that the day makes one long to spend time out of doors."

"Certainly," he replied laconically.

"Dunford, you are not making this easy." She spotted a bench and sat down, making space for him next to her. Her maid stood quietly under a tree ten or so yards away.

"I don't want to make it easy. I don't want to do this at all."

"Surely you see the necessity of my knowing how to converse with gentlemen. Now please help me and try to get into the spirit of the endeavor."

Dunford's jaw clenched. She was going to have to learn she couldn't push him too far. He curved his lips into a wicked half-smile. If it was flirting she wanted, it was flirting she was going to get. "All right. Let me begin anew."

Henry smiled happily.

"You're beautiful when you smile."

Her heart dropped down to her feet. She couldn't say a word.

"Flirting takes two, you know," he drawled. "You'll be thought a lackwit if you don't have anything to say."

"I-I thank you, my lord," she said, working up her boldness. "That is indeed a compliment, coming from you."

"And just what does that mean, pray tell?"

"It is certainly no secret that you are a connoisseur of women, my lord."

"You have been gossiping about me."

"Not at all. I cannot help it if your behavior makes you a frequent topic of conversation."

"Excuse me?" he said icily.

"The women throw themselves at you, I hear. Why have you not married one of them, I wonder?"

"That is not for you to wonder, sweetheart."

"Ah, but I cannot help where my mind wanders."

''Never let a man call you sweetheart," he ordered.

It took her a second to realize that he had broken character. "But it was only you, Dunford," she said in an excruciatingly placating tone.

Somehow that managed to make him feel as if he were a feeble, gout-ridden old man. "I am just as dangerous as the rest of them," he said in a hard voice.

"To me? But you're my guardian."

If they hadn't been in the middle of a public park, he would have grabbed her and shown her just how dangerous he could be. It was amazing how she could provoke him. One moment he was trying to be the wise but stern guardian, and the next he was desperately trying to restrain himself from taking her for a tumble.

"All right," Henry said, warily assessing his thunderous expression. "How about this. La, sir, but you should not call me sweetheart."

"It's a start, but if you happen to be holding a fan, I strongly urge you to poke it into the bounder's eye as well."

Henry was a bit heartened by the note of possessiveness she sensed in his voice. "But as it happens, I am not currently in possession of a fan, and what would I do if a gentleman does not heed my verbal warning?"

"Then you should run in the opposite direction. Quickly."

"But just for the sake of argument, let's say I am cornered. Or perhaps I am in the middle of a crowded ballroom and do not want to make a scene. If you were flirting with a young lady who had just told you not to call her sweetheart, what would you do?"

"I would accede to her wishes and bid her good night," he said starchily.

"You would not!" Henry accused with a playful smile. "You're a terrible rake, Dunford. Belle told me."

"Belle talks too much," he muttered.

"She was merely warning me of the gentlemen with whom I must be on my guard. And," she said, shrugging delicately, "when she named the rakes, you were near the top of the list."

"How kind of her."

"Of course, you are my guardian," she said thoughtfully. "And so merely being seen with you will not ruin my reputation. That is certainly fortunate, as I do so enjoy your company."

"I would say, Henry," Dunford said with deliberate slowness and evenness, "that you do not need very much more practice on how to flirt."

She smiled brightly. "I will take that as a compliment, coming from you. I understand you are a master of the art of seduction."

Her words made him extremely irritated, indeed.

"However, I think you're being overly optimistic. I probably do need just a bit more practice. To give me the self-confidence to face the ton at my first ball," she explained, her face looking marvelously earnest. "Perhaps I might be able to enlist Belle's brother. He is finishing up at Oxford soon, I understand, and will be returning to London for the season."