"I grow increasingly weary of stumbling over Hoyt in order to get to you," Marcus said.

"I regret that he annoys you, but he is my friend, Marcus. I am quite fond of him." Iphiginia gave Marcus a repressive glance as he led her down the steps to the waiting carriage. "I expect you to be polite to my friends after we are married."

"Of course, my dear," Marcus said with uncharacteristic and rather suspect meekness.

Iphiginia scowled at him. "What was that nonsense about locking me away in a harem?"

"A harem of one, my sweet. I assure you that you will be the only occupant."

"That sounds interesting," Iphiginia said. "It certainly struck me that way."

Iphiginia was exhausted by the time Marcus finally escorted her home at three in the morning. The town house was quiet, Amelia and the staff having long since retired to bed. Marcus and Iphiginia went quietly across the hall and walked into the shadowed library.

Marcus closed the door, loosened his cravat, and lit the candle on Iphiginia's desk.

"Good heavens, what an exhausting evening." Iphiginia stripped off her white kid gloves and flopped into the chair behind her desk. Her white sarcanet and satin skirts fluttered around her. "One would have thought you had announced your intention to marry a female who possessed two heads. I have never seen so many curious eyes or beard so many gasps of amazement."

"The worst is over." "I certainly hope so." Iphiginia frowned at her white skirts. "The first thing I am going to do after our marriage is purchase some new gowns. I am dreadfully bored with white."

"It served its purpose." Marcus helped himself to a small glass of brandy.

"I suppose it did." "It was an extremely daring and rather shrewd notion.

"Thank you, my lord. I was rather pleased with the notion myself." Iphiginia tried to summon up a casual smile.

In truth she felt anything but calm tonight. The enormity of the step she was about to take was having a deeply unsettling effect on her nerves.

Teach me to break this rule, too. Had Marcus really meant that he was willing to learn how to love again? Iphiginia wondered. Or had he offered her the challenge, knowing that she would be unable to resist?

He could be so bloody clever, she thought. "Speaking of our marriage," Marcus said.

"Yes?" Iphiginia watched as he began to prowl the room, brandy glass in one hand.

Marcus paused in front of a statue of Aphrodite. "I intend to procure a special license in the morning. We can he married tomorrow afternoon."

Iphiginia caught her breath. "So soon?"

He looked at her over his shoulder, his intelligent gaze shuttered and brooding. "There is no need to delay the event, is there?"

It dawned on Iphiginia that, in his own way, Marcus was as ill at case as she was tonight. How odd that, having been through so much together, they should suddenly find themselves nervous around each other.

"No," she said.

Marcus nodded once, satisfied. "I shall make the arrangements."

"Very well."

Marcus took a swallow of brandy and moved on to study the statue of the Roman centurion. "I thought we managed quite nicely this evening."

"People are amazed that you are going to marry your mistress, you know."

"You are not my mistress." Marcus set his glass down on a nearby table. "You are my fiancee. The gossip will vanish once we are wed."

Iphiginia glanced at the copy of Illustrations of Classical Antiquities on her desk. "Are you certain?"

"Quite." Marcus sounded without any humor. "Marriage fixes everything, you see."

Iphiginia recalled the circumstances of Marcus's first marriage and winced. "Yes."

"It silences scandal before it can flower. It renders titillating gossip of an affair into extremely dull tea conversation. In short, Iphiginia, once we are married, we shall become a very boring subject so far as Society is concerned."

Iphiginia gazed at him very steadily. "Is that the reason you wish to marry me, sir? I would sooner return to Deepford than he wed in order to silence the threat of scandal."

"No," Marcus said. "It is not why I wish to marry you. I wish to marry you because you are the only woman I know who can keep me from becoming a clockwork man.

«Marcus.» Iphiginia was shocked at the analogy. "You cannot mean that."

"But I do mean it." He hesitated, as though gathering himself to jump off a cliff into a rolling sea. "I need you to keep me from becoming a victim of my own rules, Iphiginia."

Iphiginia felt the talons of his deeply buried torment as though it were her own flesh they pierced. She knew. without a trace of doubt what his admission had cost him.

Another rule broken, no doubt, she thought. She got to her feet and went around the corner of her desk. She stepped into his arms and framed his hard face with her hands.

"Marcus, pay close attention. You are in no danger of becoming an automaton. You are a warm, passionate man with extremely refined sensibilities."

"Do you think so?" The dark intensity vanished from his voice. He grinned briefly. "Well, in that case, it would probably be best not to delay our marriage. I'm not at all certain my refined sensibilities could withstand the strain of waiting."

"No." Iphiginia stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his faintly curved mouth. "We would not want to stifle your warm, passionate nature any longer than necessary."

"Or yours." Marcus folded her into an unshakable hold and kissed her thoroughly.

He deepened the kiss until Iphiginia sighed softly and went limp in his arms.

"I love you, Marcus," she murmured against his throat.

She was not certain he had heard her, but when he raised his head a moment later, his eyes were the color of ancient amber. "I shall come for you at three tomorrow. I trust you will be ready."

Iphiginia smiled. "Should I wear white?" "You may wear whatever you wish." Marcus moved reluctantly away from her to scoop his hat up off her desk. "Or nothing at all. Good night, Iphiginia. I shall look forward to tomorrow night. Do you realize that it will be the first time we will be able to make love in a bed?"

"How very convenient should you suffer another collapse after the event, my lord."

"Adam will he coming by again today at five O'clock to take me for a drive in the park," Amelia announced at breakfast the following morning. "What do you think I should wear, Iphiginia?"

Iphiginia frowned over the gossip column in the morning paper. The article she had been reading featured a very recognizable "Mrs. B" and an equally obvious "Lord M." The news of the impending nuptials had been related in arch prose.

The Polite World is agog this morning to learn that Lord M. has reportedly broken his most infamous rule .

"What did you say, Amelia?"

"I said, will you help me select something to wear for a drive in the park this afternoon?"

Iphiginia looked up and saw the hopeful anticipation in her cousin's eyes. She smiled.

"You and I are very near the same size," Iphiginia said. "You shall wear my saffron yellow walking gown and the pale yellow pelisse that goes with it. The color will be perfect on you."

Amelia's eyes widened. "But you have not yet had an opportunity to wear that gown and pelisse yourself."

"It is yours with my blessings." Iphiginia refolded the newspaper and set it aside.

"Very kind." "Think nothing of it. We must both go shopping as soon as possible. You need some brighter gowns and I am weary of white."

"It is very becoming on you." "Thank you, but white attire grows exceedingly dull after a while. I do not know why the ancients favored it." Iphiginia paused. "You look very happy, Amelia."

"I am happy." Amelia smiled slowly, as though surprised by the fact. "Do you know, I have not felt this… this unburdened in years. To think that I was always terrified of coming face-to-face with Dodgson again. Yet when it actually happened, I experienced nothing but acute loathing and disgust."