The portal abruptly opened before her, and she stumbled into an elegant foyer lit by a Venetian chandelier of such vast proportions, she wondered if she'd entered some hidden palace. Quickly surveying her surroundings, she took note of gleaming white marble and elaborate gilding, elegant paintings and plush carpets, and a majordomo so enormous and tall, she had to tip her head upward to see his face.

"May I be of some help?"

His calmness seemed to descend on her, and she could almost feel a lessening of her fear. "Forgive me for… barging in, but… someone was pursuing me." Her heart was pounding, her words broken by gasps. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to compose herself, hoping he wouldn't consider her some demented female and put her out in the street again. "If I might see… your master or mistress, I could explain…"

"Of course. Please, let me show you into the small drawing room." With a wave of his hand he indicated a highly polished door. "I'll have some towels brought to you," he politely went on as though soaking-wet women being chased in the night wasn't out of the ordinary. Opening the door, he ushered her into a candlelit room decorated with painted panels of colorful birds and foliage and quietly closed the door behind her.

The towels arrived quickly in the arms of a servant girl, and by the time the majordomo returned, Isabella was marginally dry. Her pale hair tumbled onto her shoulders in damp ringlets, and her gown, while soiled at the hemline, had been sponged to a semblance of presentable.

Dermott's game lasted slightly longer than a half hour because he was on a winning streak and even Kate's splendid charms couldn't compete with the run of luck he was having. But a servant came to fetch him as the half hour stretched to an hour and, folding his hand, Dermott rose from the table with a bow. "Until tomorrow, gentlemen. I expect I'll see most of your faces here again once you wake from your hangovers."