Graystone solemnly considered her bright smile in the pale glow of the candle flame. "I am surprised you could not sleep, Miss Ballinger. You certainly had plenty of exercise today. I believe you participated in the archery contest organized for the ladies this afternoon, and then there was the long walk to the old Roman ruins and the picnic. All topped off by a great deal of dancing and whist this evening. One would have thought you'd have been quite exhausted."

"Yes, well, I expect the unfamiliarity of my surroundings is to blame. You know how it is, my lord, when one sleeps in a strange bed."

His cool gray eyes, which always made Augusta think of a cold winter sea, gleamed faintly. "What an interesting observation. Do you sleep in a lot of strange beds, Miss Ballinger?"

Augusta stared at him, uncertain how to take the question. A part of her was very nearly inclined to believe there might have been a deliberate sexual innuendo in Graystone's seemingly polite remark. But that was impossible, she quickly decided. This was Graystone, after all. He would never do or say anything the least improper in the presence of a lady. Of course, he might not consider her a lady, she reminded herself bleakly.

"No, my lord, I do not have much opportunity to travel and therefore have not grown accustomed to the notion of changing beds frequently. Now, if you will excuse me, I had best be getting back upstairs. My cousin might awaken and notice I am gone. She would worry."

"Ah, yes. The lovely Claudia. We certainly would not want the Angel to become concerned about her hoyden of a cousin, would we?"

Augusta winced. It was obvious she had sunk quite low in the earl's estimation. Graystone clearly considered her an ill-mannered baggage. She could only hope he did not also think her a thief.