"No, my lord, I would not want to worry Claudia. Good evening, sir." Head high, she made to step around him. He did not move and she was forced to halt directly in front of him. He was extremely large, she noticed. Standing this close, she felt overwhelmed by the solid, unyielding strength in him. Augusta gathered her courage.

"Surely you do not intend to keep me from returning to my bedchamber, my lord?"

Graystone's brows rose slightly. "I would not want you to go back upstairs without that which you came for."

Augusta 's mouth went dry. He could not possibly know about Rosalind Morrissey's journal. "As it happens, I feel quite sleepy now, my lord. I do not think I shall need anything to read, after all."

"Not even the item you hoped to find in Enfield's desk?"

Augusta took refuge in high dudgeon. "How dare you imply I was attempting to get into Lord Enfield's desk? I told you, my hairpin simply happened to land in the lock when it fell."

"Allow me, Miss Ballinger." Graystone removed a length of wire from his dressing gown pocket and slid it gently into the desk lock. There was a faint but quite distinct snick.

Augusta watched in astonishment as he eased open the top drawer and studied the contents. Then he waved a casual hand, inviting her to search for what she wanted.

Augusta eyed the earl warily, chewed on her lower lip for a few tense seconds, and then hastily leaned down and began pawing through the drawer. She found the small leather-bound volume beneath several sheets of foolscap. She snatched it up at once.

"My lord, I do not know what to say." Augusta clutched the journal and looked up to meet Graystone's eyes.

The earl's harsh features appeared even more grim than usual in the flickering candlelight. He was not a handsome man by any measure, but Augusta had found him strangely compelling since the moment her uncle had introduced her to him at the start of The Season.