"I don't know the inspector, but you, Monsieur Hargreaves, inspire absolute confidence," Cécile said. "I will quite depend upon you." She patted his arm as she walked past him. "Do not keep Kallista too long." Cécile had not abandoned her habit of calling me by the name my late husband had used for me.

"Excitement seems to follow you," Colin said, accepting the cup of tea I poured for him.

"It's following Cécile. I've never owned anything of Marie Antoinette's."

"I'm glad of it." His dark eyes flashed. "I cannot stand thinking of that criminal in your room. I should have come to you last night."

"Cécile's remark was not meant as a rebuke. She merely wanted me to ponder the idea of having you here so late at night. She's quite a corrupting influence."

"Then I am forever indebted to her."

"As you should be."

"And did you ponder the idea of having me here so late at night?"

"I did. It was most pleasant." Our eyes met. At once my fatigue dissipated as the feeling of violation was replaced with a lovely warmth. "Perhaps after the Season you should come to Greece with me." I had spent much of the spring exploring Greece, using as my base the villa that had become mine after Philip's death.

"Hardly appropriate for us to travel together."

"I thought you approved of my corruption?"

"I wholeheartedly do, but I don't want to see you that corrupt." He stood up, walked around the table to me, and took my hands. I closed my eyes, anticipating his kiss when Davis entered the room, carrying the morning mail on a small silver tray. Colin contented himself with quickly kissing my hand and went back to his seat. Doing my best to show no disappointment, I turned my attention to the envelopes before me. With invitations to two or three balls every evening, and as many dinner parties, not to mention teas, garden parties, and luncheons, one could easily be overwhelmed during the Season. And that was before considering the Derby, Ascot, the Royal Academy's Summer Exhibition, or any of the numerous other events not to be missed. I sifted through the pile before me, checking for personal correspondence.