"Anything interesting?" Colin asked.

"That's unlikely, unless you've sent me something." I tossed aside a note from my mother, knowing full well that it contained an admonishment for my turning down an invitation to her friend Lady Elliott's reception for Charles Berry. Although my mother had been content to see me married to a viscount — particularly as Philip's family had connections to royalty going back to the reign of Elizabeth — she had taken a renewed interest in my status since I'd come out of mourning and had returned to her hope that I might yet marry royalty.

Another envelope caught my attention. It bore no stamp so must have been hand-delivered. Inside was a short passage, written in ancient Greek:

"Is this from you?" I asked, passing it to Colin.

"Unfortunately not, though I wish it were. I agree heartily with the sentiment."

"Could you translate for me? I'm afraid I couldn't do it without my lexicon."

"Nothing is sweeter than love, and all delicious things are second to it." It's from The Greek Anthology. Perhaps your tutor has succumbed to your charms."

"Mr. Moore?" I laughed. "Not likely. If anything, he's infuriated by my insistence on reading only Homer. Though perhaps I should reconsider that position now that I know how...inspiring...The Greek Anthology is."

"You could focus on its religious epigrams."

"Mr. Moore would like that very much."

"Have you any idea who it might be from?"