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like an angel with pride. The letter was sent to be woven into the secret communication stream between France and England, and Rothgar quickly reviewed the steps taken.

That was enough for now. With the supply of borrowed money tightened, D'Eon should have less time for thinking up trouble for others. With luck, he'd start dipping deeper into the ambassador's moneys, which would really put his head on the chopping block.

He was about to leave when Carruthers appeared with a folded paper. "Mr. Merlin's report on the automaton, my lord."

Rothgar glanced quickly through it and saw immediately that the machine could not be completely repaired in time for tomorrow, so he put aside the thought of eclipsing the French automaton. He sent orders for the work to be started immediately anyway. If there was to be a war of automata, he might need his little drummer boy.

He headed for the door, but turned at the last minute to look at the portrait of his mother. What had Diana seen? Madness, apparently, in the intense eyes and tense body, but madness there before the birth of children.

He had no memory of his mother other than the dreadful one, and had never asked. But he had often wondered. Had she ever held him tenderly? Sang songs to him, played games to make him laugh? All the things he had seen his stepmother do with his half-brothers and sisters.

Had she loved him? Or had she felt the same hatred she'd felt for little Edith?

The main question, however, had always been, how like her was he?

He left, closing the door, but thoughts would not be shut away.

For years he'd convinced himself that he was cold, as perhaps she had been cold. He'd thought he lacked the ability to bond closely and warmly, and had no need of it. It seemed strange now, but he'd seen himself as taking care of his family out of logic and duty.

Cyn's sickness had shattered that illusion.

Walking briskly toward the front of the house, he felt again that shocking pain, remembered the furious rebellion against fate. He'd fought death - with a Malloren all things were possible - and against all odds, he'd won. He, doctors, nurses, and Cyn's robust constitution, had defeated death.

Never after, however, had he thought he was of a cold, unloving nature.

He'd felt some of the same rage last year when he'd found Brand unconscious, when he'd feared a brain fever or some other fatal condition. On realizing the truth, that rage had turned to the people who had drugged him.

Rosa and Diana.

He felt anger at neither now, but his longing for Diana burned as fiercely. Death, however, was an easier opponent than honor. Despite Diana's challenge, her battle was already lost, defeated by the madness in his mother's fierce eyes. No trick of fate had turned her mad. She had been born that way. Honor said that blood must end with him, despite Diana's grief.

He took his hat, gloves, and crop from Fettler, waiting by the door. He must not think of her as Diana. Opponents in a duel, after all, should never be on first-name terms.

Lady Arradale. To be protected, but never to be loved.

He strode briskly out of the house, mounted his horse, and attended by two armed grooms, rode out of London.

Chapter 21

Diana sat in contemplation of the simple letter from Bey. Idiotic to feel touched almost to tears by it, but it was the first personal letter between them, and it was something tangible of his. She was only just realizing that though she had given him a ring, he had given her no keepsake, no symbol of connection.

It was doubtless deliberate. A symbol, in fact, of his intent to keep them apart. She smiled therefore at the note, which must be a sign that he was vulnerable after all.

And he had laughed in the coach, laughed in free amusement he must rarely allow himself.

It was tempting to hide the note away as a secret treasure, but it was carefully unrevealing, so she left it, folded, on the small escritoire in her room. There, she could see it at a glance whenever she pleased.

It was precious, but it also contained that guarded remark about the possible. He'd intended it as a warning that their marriage was not possible, but it made a useful reminder of her purpose. With her also, she resolved, all things were possible. She just had to find the way.

One thing she must do was investigate the