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He was very pleased with this solution. I had to appreciate the offer, but I could think of any number of reasons why it wouldn't work. Sensing my reservations, Orlov lifted an eyebrow.

"You do not like this idea?" he asked.

I picked up the empty glasses and carried them over to the cabinet. Count Orlov tilted his head slightly, watching me, heavy lids drooping over his eyes. I set the glasses down, put the brandy bottle back into the cabinet, deliberately delaying my answer.

"Russia is-it's very far away," I said.

"This is true," he admitted. "The journey is long and very tedious. This is one of the reasons I wish you to keep Lucie company. I would give you a most generous salary, more than enough to pay your way to America."

"I see," I said quietly.

"Once we get to Russia, I would ask you to remain three more months in order that Lucie might have time to adjust and make new friends, and then I would arrange your passage to America. One can get there from Russia as easily as from England," he added.

"I realize that, but-" I hesitated, shaking my head.

"I do not see your objections," he said.

"I –I just don't think it would work."

Orlov seemed puzzled, and then he sighed and smiled warmly.

"You are tired," he said. "You have the headache. I propose this idea too quickly, I think. I choose the wrong time.

I will not ask you to give me an answer now, Miss Danver."

"I'm grateful."

"I ask only that you promise to think about it."

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Good! Now I will leave you and let you go to bed. It has been an exhausting evening for you." ,

"I fear it has."

I followed him to the door. He lifted my hand and brushed it lightly with his lips, and then, nodding politely, he left. I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, thinking of his offer. Count Orlov was generous, too generous. He was kind and thoughtful, could be gentle and very, very persuasive. If! accepted his offer, it would solve my predicament, yes, but every instinct told me it would present a whole new set of problems, problems of an entirely different nature. I could still see the warmth in his dark eyes as he gazed at me. I could still feel the touch of his lips on the back of my hand. I would turn him down. Of course I would. Going to Russia with Count Gregory Orlov was entirely out of the question.

SIGHING HEAVILY, I MADE A FINAL INSPECTION

in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. The leaf brown satin gown had short, narrow sleeves, a very low neckline and snug waist, the skirt spreading out in scalloped flounces that parted to reveal the underskirt of alternating rows of sky blue and sapphire lace. The diminutive, chattering French hairdresser Orlov had brought in had parted my hair in the center, pulled it back, and arranged it in a mass of long sausage ringlets that cascaded down my back. I had applied pale bluish gray shadow to my lids, had smoothed pale pink rouge lightly over my cheekbones and used a deeper pink on my lips,but my face was still drawn, my eyes dark and disillusioned. I wasn't going to dazzle any of Orlov's guests tonight, I reflected, but at least I was presentable.

Leaving the bedroom, passing through the Chinese sitting room, I moved down the hall toward Lucie's room, dreading the evening ahead. Count Orlov's dinner for Princess Dashkova had grown into a major social event with over fifty guests invited. The house had been in an uproar all day, florists arriving with potted plants and great baskets of roses, musicians setting up their instruments in the ballroom, the household staff in a frenzy as special decorations were hung, Orlov's chef rebelling and throwing a tantrum when he discovered his culinary masterpieces

would be augmented with food brought .from

London's finest eating house. Guests were already beginning to arrive-English diplomats, Russian emIgres,

various society figures Orlov had met in years past when they were visiting his country-and Lucie and I should have been downstairs already. She was dreading the evening almost as much as I was, I knew, and had been depressed ever since morning.

Tapping lightly on the opened door, I called her name and passed through her sitting room to the bedroom. She was sitting at the dressing table, staring glumly into the mirror. Opening a bottle of perfume, she wearily dabbed the crystal stopper behind her earlobes, between her breasts, touched it to the backs of her wrists. It was an exquisite, subtle scent that evoked fields of sun-drenched poppies, but I wondered if it weren't a bit too provocative for her. Lucie replaced the stopper, glanced at me in the mirror and then stood up, moving across the room to pick up a topaz silk fan embroidered with gold and yellow flowers.

"Well," she said, "here I am. I feel like a fool. I know they're all going to whisper about me."

I stared at her, amazed, so amazed I was unable to speak. The buttercup yellow satin gown that had been delivered this morning was cut extremely low, leaving her shoulders bare, her breasts half-exposed. The bodice was form-fitting, emphasizing her slender waist, and the great skirt belled out in gleaming folds. I had helped her select the gown. I hadn't realized it was going to be quite so revealing, nor had I realized so keenly what a slender, voluptuous body she had. A diamond and topaz necklace hung around her throat, diamond and topaz earrings dangling from her lobes. Her hair had been pulled back severely from her face and twisted into an elaborate French roll on the back of her head, a diamond and topaz spray affixed to one side. Her lids were brushed with mauve shadows, her cheeks skillfully rouged to emphasize the unusual cheekbones, and her lips were a luscious pink.

I realized with some dismay that I was not looking at a girl. I was looking at a full-blown woman, gorgeous and extremely sensual. Her poise was incredible, and the violet-blue eyes that gazed at me were undeniably worldweary.

It was more than just the gown, the hairstyle, the makeup. I was seeing a Lucie heretofore carefully concealed, although there had been occasional small glimpses.

"You just stare," she said. "You do not like?"

"You look-you look absolutely beautiful, Lucie."

"This silly man makes me sit for almost two hours, chattering all the time. I do not like what he does to my hair, but it is too late to change it now. The gown I do not like.

The color is all wrong. I have trouble selecting the right jewelry to go with it."

"It's a lovely color."

"Your gown I like," she said, eyeing it critically. "The color goes with your hair. The sky blue and sapphire ruffles showing beneath the flounces make the brown seem richer. Something is missing, though."

"Oh?"

"The jewelry. You need something to set everything off just so."

"I no longer have any jewelry. I don't really think I need-"

"Is easily taken care of," she said, interrupting me.

She moved over to the dressing table, opened an embossedwhite leather box and idly began to pull out a dazzling array of jewelry-diamond and ruby bracelets,

strings of pearls, emerald necklaces-tossing them carelessly onto the table as though they were the cheapest trinkets.

"Ah, yes," she said, "sapphires. The color of your eyes.

Here, try these. I think they will do very nicely."

The necklace she handed to me consisted of a dozen pearshaped sapphire pendants caught up in a diamond web and suspended from a strand of large square-cut diamonds. It must have cost a fortune, I thought, gazing at the flashing jewels that dangled from my fingers. Dark blue flames burned vividly, enhanced by the blinding silver-violetglitter of the diamonds. When I hesitated to put it on, Lucie gave an impatient sigh and took it from me and fastened it around my neck herself, then handed me the matching pendant earrings.

"I'm not sure I should," I said, fastening one of the earrings.

"Nonsense. They are perfect. Now the other one. There.

The picture is complete."

I had to admit that the jewelry was enhancing and added glamour, but I was still apprehensive about wearing it.

What if something happened? What if the clasp broke on the necklace or one of the earrings slipped off without my knowing it? Lucie waved these objections aside and told me she rarely wore the sapphires anyway.

"You shall be the most beautiful woman here tonight,"

she declared.

"I think not, Lucie. That honor will unquestionably belong to you."

"You humor me. It is polite of you, but I know I look a fright. No one will notice me, and it is just as well. I do not like crowds. My uncle feels he must make the big splash to impress this woman he hates."

"I suppose we'd better go on down," I said.

"Yes, it is an unpleasant duty."

She might have been on her way to a firing squad as we moved slowly down the grand staircase, side by side, our full skirts spreading, rustling. The foyer was already full of guests, more arriving by the moment, and all eyes were upon us as we made our descent. Count Orlov hurried foward to greet us, taking my hand as we reached the bottom step.

"Here you are," he said. "You are a vision tonight, Miss Danver. All of my guests will wonder who this lovely creature is."

"Thank you, Count Orlov, You look resplendent yourself."

He grinned, preening a bit. His tall white leather boots were gleaming. His white breeches fit like a second skin.

The short white tunic was adorned with gold braid, and the waist-length white cape casually draping his broad shoulders was lined with cloth of gold.

"I wear this old uniform to aggravate the princess," he confided. "It fits perfectly even after all these years."

He was still holding my hand, clasping it strongly, as excited and aglow as a small boy with delicious mischief in store. Lucie stood beside me with a bored expression. Her uncle gave her a small nod, barely acknowledging her presence. If he noticed her remarkable transformation, he gave no indication of it. Music from the ballroom lilted quietly throughout the house, and servants were leading guests into the adjacent drawing room where food was being served.

"Is exciting evening, this," Orlov said. "I show them all that Orlov still gives the grandest parties. Is like the old days."

Releasing my hand, he beamed, went to give a hearty bear hug to a doddering, silver-haired ex-diplomat with a plethora of ribbons and decorations on the breast of his shiny black coat. Carriage wheels crunched on the drive outside, and within a matter of minutes all the other guests had arrived save the guest of honor. She would, of course, be late, I thought. The foyer was filled now, guests chattering in small groups before moving into the drawing room, servants passing among them with trays of champagne.

Lucie and I were the recipients of many a curious glance, I noticed, everyone clearly wondering who we were and speculating about our relationship to the count.

"Ah, here is the princess!" Orlov exclaimed as a carriage was heard coming up the drive. "Is necessary for her to make the Grand Entrance."

A grand entrance it was, Princess Dashkova sweeping regally through the door with a handsome blond student on either side, one of them holding her black velvet cloak, the other her spangled black lace fan. A hush fell over the crowd as Orlov clicked his heels together and greeted her with great ceremony. She gave him her hand. He lifted it to his lips. Her old-fashioned black gown was completely overlaid with shimmering black spangles. A stunning diamond and emerald necklace rested against her flat collarbone.

Matching earrings dangled from her lobes. A spray of emerald and black egret feathers was affixed to one side of her coiffure with a diamond and emerald clasp. Her lips were painted a vivid red, and they formed a condescending smile as she took in Orlov's uniform. She was clearly Not Impressed.

"I see she's brought her students with her," I remarked.

"Perhaps she hires them by the season," Lucie replied.

I turned, surprised by the bitchiness. Her expression was still bored. She raised her fan, unfolding it, waving it gently to and fro. Orlov motioned to us, and we went over to pay our respects to the princess, Lucie casually plucking a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing servant as we approached. It was still difficult for me to associate this gorgeous, worldly creature with the nervous young girl I knew, but young people love to assume all sorts of roles.

We greeted the princess. She swept her eyes over us, nodded, dismissed us. A huge square-cut emerald surrounded by diamonds flashed on her left hand. Her perfume was too strong, her makeup too thick and poorly applied, but she was an impressive figure nevertheless, with those glittering, imperious green eyes and that imposing carriage. Orlov told her how delighted he was that she had been able to come and added that there were many old friends eager to see her. Dashkova took her fan from the blond retainer, clicked it open and looked excruciatingly tolerant as Orlov led her away. Lucie and I were left standing with her two youthful companions.

The blond with brown eyes grinned. Not very tall, he was sturdily built and glowing with ruddy health. His hair was thick, the color of wheat, his cheekbones broad, his mouth full and pink and sensual. Perhaps twenty-one, he wore his formal attire with flair but looked as though he would be much more comfortable kicking a ball on a playing field than escorting an aging Russian princess to a grand soiree.

"John Hart," he said, introducing himself.

"How do you do, Mr. Hart. I'm Marietta Danver."

"I know. I remember you from the theater. And you are Lucie Orlov."

He turned to her, a grin curling on his lips. Lucie gave him a cold look and the briefest of nods. The other youth, taller, with pale blond hair and thin, rather cruel features, looked at us with icy blue eyes and introduced himself as Reginal Burton. A servant took the cloak he still held over his arm. Princess Dashkova called to them from across the room, and the two students strode over to join her, John Hart turning to give us a parting look. Lucie finished her glass of champagne and wandered off to find another, the skirt of her lustrous buttercup yellow gown swaying like a satin bell. I was relieved when, a few moments later, Sir Harry came over and asked if I would care for some food.