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preparations for court. After the levee the king summoned him as usual to review recent events, and to debate again the fate of Dunkirk. It became dismayingly hard not to snap at him.

He escaped at four. Since the king was returning for dinner with the queen, it was out of the question to visit the Queen's House. Besides, he told himself firmly as he returned home, he would have the opportunity this evening to make sure Lady Arradale was well and safe. That was soon enough.

Once out of court clothes he went to his office to methodically work through the stacks of work awaiting him. His mind tried to wander, but he kept it to the tasks before him. All these documents represented people and issues needing his attention.

Most were administrative papers to do with his estates and business affairs. He knew Grainger, Carruthers, and other employees would have gone through them carefully, but he read each one as was his practice before signing it.

There were also letters and reports connected to the many charitable matters he supported, and the usual solicitations from artists and publishers. An agent reported the finding of some jewels perhaps belonging to King Alfred, and another a portrait of an ancestor he'd been trying to add to the family collection.

He was tempted to put aside a dauntingly thick report on some land he had acquired in the colonies, but he knew where his weak-willed mind wished to go so he pinned it to trade.

Eventually, however, all was done and he looked at his empty desk with some grievance. Hard work had provided the closest thing to peace he'd experienced in days. He looked ironically at the sketch of himself on the study wall, the one done in preparation for his stern portrait.

Where was that confident, invulnerable man?

He rose abruptly and sought distraction elsewhere - in the room where Jean Joseph Merlin and an assistant were working on the drummer boy.

"When will it be mended?" he asked, wincing to see the figure stripped of clothes, with many of its pieces spread around on white cloths.

The young man looked up, but with a hint of impatience. "Within days, my lord," he said with an accent. He was Flemish by birth. "As you said, the damage is not great, but it has stood idle so long that I wish to check all the parts. There was rust," he added, with the hint of a shudder.

"No other breakage?"

"No, my lord." Merlin relented and walked over to the heart of the machine. "It is a masterpiece. Vaucanson, for sure, and of a complexity I've rarely seen. The subtlety of movement - "

"You operated it?" Rothgar asked sharply.

"Of course not, my lord. I can read cogs and levers as Mr. Haydn reads music."

"My apologies." Rothgar couldn't help but touch the lad's lifelike head, stroking the subtly colored skin.

"Wax," Merlin said. "Again, a masterpiece. One could think he would breathe. In fact... it could be done with the addition of bellows. I have heard of one that actually plays a flute."

"No." The notion of this child taking its first breath was appalling. "Leave that to God."

"As you wish, my lord."

"Is there any way I can help?"

"If you are willing to clean and polish, my lord."

It was a familiar arrangement when Merlin was here, and Rothgar could steal the time. There were any number of other things he should be doing, but he sat at a table and began to clean the complex pieces of metal. Almost immediately, his tension eased.

Perhaps it was a flaw to find clockwork mechanisms so soothing, but if so, it was one he permitted himself. If he gave up court he might study the subject further, and perhaps become able to read cogs and levers like music.

He smiled at the thought of himself as an eccentric, living in comfortable robes, and shuffling around Rothgar Abbey fiddling with clocks.

Alone.

It was not particularly amusing, after all.

"Now the war is over," he said after a while, "perhaps you would like to visit Monsieur Vaucanson in France."

Merlin looked up, eyes bright. "I would indeed, my lord."

"I will arrange it. He has also done a great deal of work on industrial machinery."

Merlin grinned. "Never fear, my lord. Any machine enthralls me, and I will report back on everything."

Rothgar smiled and returned to his task.

As he polished a piece with fine grit, he glanced at the child's head. He rose and carefully moved the head so it was looking directly at him, then sat