“Where shall we go first?” Colin asked.

“Meg is perfectly capable of seeing to it that our trunks get to the house. My plan is to get a spectacular view of the city, unless you’ve a mad desire to go to our quarters first.” Meg, my maid, was traveling with us, despite my husband’s protests that he’d prefer we be alone. I, too, liked very much the idea of privacy, but a lady must deal with hard realities, and there was simply no way my hair could be made presentable on a daily basis without skilled assistance. Furthermore, I’d spent a not inconsiderable effort to show her the merits of places beyond England. Her provincial attitude had begun to thaw in Paris more than a year ago, and I had every intention of continuing her enlightenment.

“If we go to the house first, you’re not likely to see much of the city today.” He pulled me close, his arm around my waist.

“I cannot tolerate that,” I said, a delightful flash of heat shooting from toes to fingertips. I straightened my hat—a jaunty little thing, devoid of the ornamentation favored by many of my peers. So far as I was concerned, stuffed birds had no place in the world of fashion. I was too eager in making the adjustment, and the tip of my hat pin jabbed into my scalp, causing me to jump, knocking into a gentleman walking behind me.

“Oh, Sir Richard, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention, either.” A gruff edge cut through his already rough voice.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Yes, actually. It appears I’ve been robbed. Nothing serious, just unsettling.”

“What happened?” Colin stepped closer to me and began a methodical study of the area around us.

“I’ve no idea. When I was gathering my belongings to leave the train, I realized a sheaf of papers I was bringing from London to the embassy is gone.”