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Your Majesty." Diana curtsied again to king and queen, and could move to one side. First engagement over.

However the king rose and stepped aside with them. "What is this I hear, Lord Rothgar? Brigands on our highway? What? In daylight? French brigands? What?"

"An unfortunate incident, sire."

"Unfortunate!" The king's fresh face reddened. "Intolerable. I have dispatched Colonel Allenby to look into the matter. I will not have such things, especially within ten miles of London! You are unharmed?"

"Completely, sire."

"And Lady Arradale?" The king looked at her, but Diana judged that she was not expected to actually speak for herself.

"Unharmed also, Your Majesty, though distressed, of course."

Diana blessed her pale powder and tried to look distressed.

"It would be unwomanly not to be," the king stated. "But three brigands dead, my lord? What? I know you to be a formidable man, but how did that come about?" Then he gave an irritated shake of the head. "Not now. You must return to the Queen's House and relate the whole story."

Bey bowed. "With pleasure, sire. If you wish, I could convey Lady Arradale there in my coach."

The king nodded and returned to his duties.

Diana looked up at Bey. More time together? Irresistible, but it only extended the pain. Had he perhaps just given in to a moment of weak temptation?

There was no way to tell from his manner. He led her around the room introducing her to ladies and gentlemen who seemed grateful to see a new face. Especially, she soon realized, a face attached to such an unusual creature as a peeress in her own right and a very wealthy woman. Everyone seemed to have a perfectly wonderful son, brother, or nephew.

This sort of heiress hunting was the least of their problems, however. She didn't like the queen's plan to find her a husband, but otherwise she thought it had gone well.

Perhaps Their Majesties had expected her to clump in here in breeches, brandishing a weapon. That was another unfair aspect of the way the world regarded women. It was assumed that they could not be strong without attempting to dress and act like men. That a woman who liked pretty clothes and jewels, and cared about her complexion must be a simpering ninny.

It was the sort of thing she would love to discuss with Bey, but certainly not here. When next would they have a chance to talk in private? That precious cup, their conversation, had only been sipped, and she thirsted for more.

The company thinned out, but they, of necessity, lingered on. Literally "in waiting." Diana sighed. This was likely to be her life for the next few weeks.

"Tired?" he asked.

There were no chairs, of course. She'd been trained for this, too - to stand, poised and still for as long as necessary, and even to suppress a sneeze if one crept up - but they were not skills she practiced much. He doubtless had it perfected, for he seemed completely at ease and inexhaustible.

"Impatient," she admitted.

"Yet patience is the best remedy for every trouble."

"Plautus." She rolled her eyes. "I had to write that out, in Latin, a hundred times once."

His lips twitched. "And I am falling into the role of teacher again. It seems safer. You are young."

She looked into his eyes. "I am not too young. That, at least, does not stand between us."

He nodded. "No, it does not."

She actually thought of pursuing the matter here, which showed how foolish this all was making her. Instead, she looked idly around, fanning herself. "This life will be hard."

"I fear there is nothing I can say in response to that which will not sound like a lecture."

She flicked him a glance and saw a smile in his eyes. "Then I will lecture myself. Marcus Aurelius: Think not this is misfortune, but that it is good fortune to be given the opportunity to bear it well."

His lips twitched. "Something else your tutor set you to writing as a penance?"

"Indeed. In English and the original Greek. In response, as I remember, to my anger at being confined to the house for a week in summer. Something to do with Mistress Hucken's chickens... I was fortunate, though. He never guessed how much more I would have hated having to sew words into samplers."

"Alas, the queen likes her ladies' hands to be occupied with useful work. In particular, needlework."

Diana groaned, then realized they were smiling at each other. Doubtless in a most revealing manner.

A quick glance assured her that no one seemed to be observing