Amanda smiled sweetly. Thanks to Connor's wager, the need for further forays into the hells had evaporated, and she had no intention of forgetting Martin.

Releasing her hand, Connor stumped off. Meredith, who had said not a word throughout, rose stiffly, bowed, and murmured, "It was a pleasure, Miss Cynster."

With that, he followed Connor through the gloom and away.

Amanda turned to Martin and favored him with her best smile. "Thank you for your offer, my lord-I would indeed find it difficult to accommodate the mare on such short notice."

He regarded her steadily, that gentle, somewhat wistful amusement very evident, at least to her. "So I would imagine." He raised his glass to her, then drained it and set it down. He rose; she did, too.

"I must thank you, too, for your assistance throughout." She smiled again, her mind skating over his offer to partner her, his replacement of her champagne with water, his arranging for the candlelight, the many moments during the play when his steady, moss-green, gold-flecked gaze had kept her from panicking. She let the thoughts light her eyes, and held out her hand. "You were indeed my champion this night."

His lips kicked up at the ends; he took her hand, long fingers closing strongly about hers… and hesitated. Amanda looked into his eyes and realized they'd changed again, grown darker. Then he bowed and released her.

"Connor was right-hells like Mellors are no place for you, but I fancy you've realized that." His gaze roamed her face, then he reached into his pocket and drew out a silver card case. He extracted a card and offered it between two fingers. "So you know where to send for the mare. Send a message and one of my grooms will bring her around." His gaze touched her face again, then he inclined his head. "Good-bye, Miss Cynster."