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understand the relationship goes a little further than that."

"The king has an admiration for him, yes, and seeks his advice on many matters." But Elf then turned the conversation to other matters, and Diana understood that there was a limit to what she would reveal about her brother. It was as well, for the marquess came into the room soon after, and she would have hated to have been caught talking about him.

After dinner, the little theater was brought down and the children performed a short play to warm applause. When they spoke of the other toys, the magical picture box and the broken automaton were brought to the drawing room, too.

The picture box gave great amusement, but the automaton could only be looked at.

Diana glanced at her mother. The dowager was smiling politely, but she thought she saw a hint of strain in her eyes. She would have gone to offer comfort, but she had no idea what to say. It was probably one of these matters best left in silence.

She did, however, go over to the marquess. "If you are still willing, my lord, I would like you to take the automaton to London to be repaired. In fact," she added on impulse, "I would like to make a gift of it to you."

It was an extravagant gift, but he did not protest. "You are most generous, my lady. I will see it carefully tended."

The evening passed in cards with Diana's own musicians providing musical entertainment. Diana made sure she did not sit at the same table as Lord Rothgar, but all the same her mind buzzed around and around her wicked dilemma like a bee trapped in a glass jar. The circling did no good, and yet she was powerless to stop it.

This was the last night.

Should she, shouldn't she?

Would he, wouldn't he?

She found herself admiring the line of the marquess's body as he turned to speak to Lord Bryght. A twinkle in his eye as he teased Lady Steen. His deft, long-fingered hands on the cards.

She could almost feel those fingers on her skin in the night...

Oh lud! Missed opportunities, stored on the moon.

When the party finally broke up and she could seek the sanctuary of her room she felt mentally exhausted.

But not physically.

No, her body seethed with restless and demanding energy.

Once she was ready for bed, dressed in just her loose silk nightgown, she dismissed Clara and stood facing the adjoining door. She hadn't noticed noises from the other room, but surely the marquess was there by now.

She paced for a moment or two then grabbed the wrap that went over her gown. The gown was light, but the wrap was ivory damask and covered her as well as a day gown.

Still, it was nightwear, and no one could deny that.

Even so, she walked over to the door and knocked.

After a moment it opened - to reveal the marquess's middle-aged manservant. "My lady?"

A flicker of the eyes showed no one visible in the room behind him. Perdition! She wanted to instantly slam the door and hide under the covers, but she had to rescue some trace of her dignity. "I had a question about the plans for Lord Rothgar's journey. Tomorrow."

The man was studiously impassive. "Shall I give him a message when he comes up, my lady?"

Nerve crumbling to dust, Diana said, "No, no. It will wait."

She closed the door, then staggered to fling herself on the bed. Why, oh why, had she given in to that lunatic impulse? It gave her away!

Could she hope the man would not mention her visit at all? She prayed for it, cursing her hungry body which had pitched her into such an embarrassing situation.

She rolled to lie spreadeagled on the bed, looking up at the gray silk underside of her bed's canopy. Dark gray, like his eyes... She'd always feared this - that her fiery obsession would lead to embarrassment.

She should conquer her wicked urges. She should resign herself to true, eternal chastity. Like a nun.

Through the window, she could see the growing moon.

What a terrible, terrible waste it was, though.

A knock had her suddenly upright. She stared at the adjoining door as if it had become the portal to hell. She'd imagined it. She must have -

Another sharp rap.

She slid off the bed and walked forward, heart pounding. If he was coming to her with lascivious intent, what should she do? Why did everything suddenly seem different?

Swallowing, she opened the door.

He was still completely dressed, which