Marcus made a private note of her vehemence on the subject. It would he interesting to see what Barclay learned in Devon. "Then in that case, I suggest that we take Lady Pettigrew up on her invitation to spend a few days at her country house in Hampshire this week."

Iphiginia considered that. "It would give me an opportunity to search Pettigrew's library."

Marcus stifled, an oath. "I will handle that matter. You will examine Lady Pettigrew's Temple of Vesta, as you promised to do."

"Are you certain that you will know how to search a man s library properly?" Iphiginia asked dubiously.

"I think I can manage the task. I watched you search Lartmore's library, did I not? How can I fail after watching an expert such as yourself?"

Iphiginia pursed her lips. "Very well, my lord. We shall go to Hampshire, as planned."

Marcus exhaled with a sense of relief. At least Iphiginia would be safe under his careful eye while they were in Hampshire. By the time they got back to London, Barclay would have returned. Marcus intended to set him to investigating the ownership of Mrs. Eaton's monument as soon as possible.

Something told him that there was a connection between the funeral grotto and the blackmailer. He could almost feel it. He intended to explore the problem until he had the answers he wanted.

The blackmailer had become more than a nuisance. Tonight he had gone too far. He had threatened Iphiginia.

Marcus would not stop until he had caught him.

Three days later, Marcus strolled over to one of the shelves in Pettigrew's library and studied the titles with keen interest. " Cicero, Virgo, Newton. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society. I commend you on your excellent and extremely varied collection, Pettigrew. I had not realized that you were interested in so. many different subjects.»

Pettigrew, a dour man whose gloomy, withdrawn temperament was the exact opposite of his lady's, scowled even more ferociously than he usually did. "A man's got to read something besides the newspapers if he doesn't want his mind to rot."

"Well said." Marcus took down a recent volume of the Philosophical Transactions and leafed through to the table of contents. "Would you mind if I borrowed this?"

"Help yourself." Pettigrew poured claret into a glass. "Mind if I ask you how long you intend to stay with us, sir?"

Marcus pretended to ignore Pettigrew's lack of hospitality. It had become evident immediately upon arrival yesterday that the house party was entirely Lady Pettigrew's notion. Her unsociable husband had no interest in entertaining visitors.

"I believe we shall be here for only a few days, no more. Your wife has requested Mrs. Bright's opinion on your Temple of Vesta. It will no doubt require my friend some time to make all the measurements and compare them with those of the original ruin that she saw in Italy."

"Perfectly good Temple of Vesta." Pettigrew tossed the claret down his throat. "Don't see why we need Mrs. Bright's opinion." He slid a quick sidelong glance at Marcus. "No offense, sir. I realize that she's a very close friend of yours.»

"Yes. She is." Marcus examined the table of contents of the copy of the Philosophical Transactions. The volume was over a year old. He spotted an article on astronomical observations that caught his interest.

He had, of course' read this issue of the Transactions months earlier when he had received his own copy. He always perused the latest issue of the Society's papers as soon as they appeared. But nine months ago he had glanced only cursorily at the paper dealing with astronomy. At that time he had confined his inquiries into the properties of light and reflective surfaces and had not yet taken an interest in the stars.

"Known her a long time?" "Who? Mrs. Bright?" Marcus looked up. "As it happens, I have not known her nearly long enough."

"I see. Rather an unusual female." "Yes. Very. She and I have discovered that we have a great deal in common."

Pettigrew furrowed his brow in some confusion. "You're interested in antiquities and such?"

"I am these days." Marcus closed the Transactions. "By the bye, my valet neglected to pack my writing box, for some inane reason. Would it be a great imposition for me to borrow some paper? I have a few letters to write."

"What? Oh, no. No, not at all." Pettigrew waved a hand at his cluttered desktop. "Help yourself."

"I'll need to borrow your wax jack, too. I trust you don't mind?"

"Over there near the globe." "Very kind of you."

"You may as well use my desk to write your bloody letters." Pettigrew heaved a glum sigh. "God knows I won't have much of a chance to use it while this crowd is in residence. Don't know why my wife has to have so many people down here from London during the Season. I've told her that if she wants to socialize, she's free to do it at our house in Town."

"She has a right to he proud of this house. It's not every estate that can boast a Temple of Vesta."

"Be different if one could boast of a few virgins to go with it," Pettigrew said. "But these days they're as rare as unicorns and phoenixes, ain't they?"

Marcus studied the rolling lawn outside the library window. "Phoenixes?"

"You know, mythological bird that's supposed to he reborn from its own ashes."

"I lost interest in mythological creatures at about the same time I lost interest in virgins," Marcus said.

"What a lovely evening sky."

She had dragged Marcus out onto the terrace on the pretext of admiring the tranquil summer evening before they retired. In truth, she intended to quiz him on what he had learned in Pettigrew's library this afternoon. She had been eager to speak to him in private all day, but there had been no opportunity to do so.

Now that she had him to herself out here under the stars, she was no longer in such a rush to question him about his discoveries. She realized that all she really yearned to do was share a few quiet, private moments with him.

It was nearly midnight. After an evening of dinner and cards, most of the Pettigrew guests had drifted upstairs to their bedchambers.

Although it was the height of the Season in Town, here in the country there was no endless round of halls and soirees to keep one up until dawn. Spending a few days in the country was considered a good way to refortify oneself for the hectic pace of Town life.

A soft, balmy breeze stirred the leaves of the nearby trees. Ale scent of flowers floated on the air. Iphiginia took a deep breath, savoring the fragrance of the night.

"It certainly is clear." Marcus leaned against the ornate balustrade. His gaze was fixed on the heavens. "I'd give a great deal to he at my estate in Yorkshire."

"Why do you wish you were in Yorkshire?" "Because that's where my new telescope is." "Telescope? You are interested in astronomy?" "Yes.»

Iphiginia was intrigued by the revelation. No matter how much she discovered about this man, it seemed that there were always new depths waiting to he explored. "I had no notion, my lord."

His mouth curved faintly. "Did you think that you had learned everything there was to know about me when you studied for your role as my mistress?"

"No, of course not." She felt herself grow warm. "But I thought I had made a rather thorough inquiry into your past and present interests."

"Do not concern yourself." Marcus kept his attention on the night sky. "It was only a small oversight. You no doubt missed my interest in astronomy because it is a rather new one. I was led into it by my studies of the properties of light and mirrors."

Iphiginia pushed her questions about Pettigrew's wax jack and seal aside for the moment. She was far more curious to learn new things about the man she loved. "How did they lead you into the subject of astronomy?"