He stroked the length of her spine with the flat of his palm all the way down to the soft curve of her buttocks.

“Asleep?” he asked softly.

“No,” she mumbled.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Whatever else happens, do not ever forget that.”

She stirred, raised her head, and kissed him softly on his mouth.

“I love you also, Tobias. Whatever else happens, do not forget that.”

He threaded his fingers through her tumbled hair. “I will not, my sweet.”

It was as though they had taken their own private vows, he thought.

He shifted, reluctant to leave the warm bed. “I should return to my room.”

She smiled at him. The mysteries in her eyes deepened. She moved her hand deliberately down his stomach. Her fingers closed around him.

“Do you really want to spend what little is left of this night sleeping?” she asked.

He felt himself stir and harden.

“It occurs to me that it is a long drive back to Town,” he said against her throat. “We will have plenty of time for a refreshing nap.”

The miniature volcano erupted with a high-pitched hiss of escaping vapor. There was a crackle from the interior of the little mountain, and sparks shot from the top.

The audience gasped in appreciation. The lecturer, a spindly gnome of a man named Horace Kirk, took a step forward and made a small bow. When he straightened, he beamed at the crowd that filled the hall.

“And thus ends my lecture on the nature of hot vapors,” he said.

“My talk next week will concern the principles of electricity.”

A burst of applause filled the room.

Emeline, seated in the second row between Anthony and Priscilla, clapped along with everyone else.

Priscilla could scarcely contain her enthusiasm. She regarded the gnome as though he were one of the dashing romantic poets.

“Was that not the most astonishing experiment you have ever witnessed?” she whispered to Emeline beneath the cover of applause. “I vow, Mr. Kirk’s lectures have opened up a new world to me.”

“Very interesting,” Emeline agreed. Privately she conceded that she was far more intrigued by the subject of antiquities than she was by the wonders of electricity and chemistry, but she had to admit the demonstration that had just concluded was quite exciting.

“I must tell you that when you suggested we subscribe to Mr. Kirk’s series of science lectures, I feared they would prove somewhat dull.

“But that is certainly not the case. Don’t you agree, Anthony?”

“I certainly do,” Anthony said with genuine appreciation. “It was an excellent notion, Priscilla.” He glanced at the small journal on her lap. “I see you managed to fill several more pages with notes again today.”

Priscilla clutched the journal to her bosom and gave Professor Kirk another enraptured glance. “I have learned so much from these lectures. I only wish that I could convince Mama to allow me to purchase some instruments and equipment. I would give anything to be able to set up a proper laboratory where I could conduct experiments. But she refuses to even consider the notion.”

Emeline was not surprised by that news. She had no difficulty whatsoever imagining Lady Wortham’s horrified reaction to the idea of Priscilla setting up a laboratory.

Lady Wortham took her responsibilities as a mother quite seriously. Her chief ambition in life was to see her daughter married to a respectable gentleman from a good family, preferably one who was in line to inherit a comfortable fortune. To that end she had a great deal to work with, Emeline thought, because Priscilla was a very attractive young woman.

True, her friend’s hair was a shade of molten gold that was not considered to be in the first stare of fashion, but Emeline thought the color complemented her blue eyes quite effectively. She also knew that she was not alone in that opinion. Priscilla certainly never lacked for dancing partners at the balls and soirees they attended together. Regardless of the prevailing views of those who set the fashion, it was clear that any number of gentlemen were attracted to ladies with blond hair.

Not that her friend did not possess a number of other fine attributes. In addition to a kind, charming manner, Priscilla was endowed with pretty, delicate features and a gracefully full, rounded figure.

It was unfortunate, in Emeline’s private opinion, that Lady Wortham insisted that her daughter dress only in pink. The color did not particularly suit her.

But as far as Emeline was concerned, her companion’s best features were her intelligence, good humor, and common sense.

Those were the factors that had allowed a genuine friendship to blossom between the two of them.

By rights they should have viewed each other as rivals, Emeline thought. Their acquaintance had been fostered and encouraged originally by Lady Wortham for less than altruistic reasons. Priscilla’s matchmaking mama liked the notion of her daughter going about with Emeline because she believed that her offspring’s looks were set off to advantage by the contrast between the two young women.

Emeline was well-aware that her chief claim to fashion was her

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thick, dark hair. In other respects, she knew very well that she did not meet the demands of true connoisseurs of style. She was too tall and too slender and her personality was much too forthright. The last was no accident. She had deliberately patterned herself after her aunt. Lavinia rarely bothered to veil her intelligence, nor did she hesitate to state her opinions.

“After all those explosive demonstrations, I believe I feel the need of some cooling ice cream,” Anthony announced, getting to his feet.

“Can I persuade the two of you to join me?”

“You will not have to ask me a second time,” Emeline assured him.

“It is very warm in this hall, is it not?”

“Ice cream sounds wonderful,” Priscilla said. “It is rather hot in here. I had not noticed until this moment.”

Emeline laughed. “That is because you were too occupied with the wonders of Professor Kirk’s demonstrations.”

Anthony stood back to allow Emeline and Priscilla to go ahead of him down the aisle toward the front of the hall. The crowd thickened briefly as several people left their seats at the same time and made for the doors.

When the path cleared a moment later, Emeline caught sight of the man who lounged with negligent ease, one shoulder propped against the wall. A disturbing sensation went around her. This was not the first time Dominic Hood had materialized in the vicinity of herself and her companions in the past few days.

“Bloody hell,” Anthony muttered behind her. “Hood is here.”

Priscilla was the only one who was unabashedly delighted to see him. “I did not know that Mr. Hood was interested in science.”

“What an astounding surprise,” Anthony growled.

“Calm yourself,” Emeline said in low tones. “I do not know why it is that you and Mr. Hood have taken such a dislike to each other, but I do not want any awkward scenes today. Is that understood?”

“What occurred yesterday at the museum was not my fault.”

“Mr. Hood may have started things off on the wrong foot when he gave us his opinion of that statue of Hercules and the Hydra, but you, sir, made matters a good deal worse when you informed him that he knew nothing about art.”

“I merely spoke the truth,” Anthony said, icily virtuous. “Hood has no eye for art or antiquities.”

“That may be true, but it was very poor manners to tell him so to his face.”

“He should have kept his remarks about the statue to himself. I wonder if he will prove to be as ignorant about science?”

“I am serious, Anthony. There will be no scenes. Do you understand?”

He smiled coldly in a way that was uncomfortably reminiscent of Mr. March.