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brows. She raised a hand and rubbed at it absently. "Yes, you were, weren't you?"
    "Hmmm." Mrs. Garrety closed the armoire. "Done here. Now, let's have a look at you." She studied her employer's pale face. "What's toward? Is it a megrim? Shall I prepare something?"
    "No," India said quickly, letting her hand fall away. Then more softly, with less force behind the words, she said, "No, thank you. It's nothing save reaction to the end of a very tedious day."
    The dresser studied India a moment longer."As you wish. Let me finish removing the paint from your face."
    India acquiesced without any show of the reluctance she felt. What she truly wanted was the thing she couldn't have: solitude. She gave herself up to her dresser's ministrations, lifting her face and turning her head from side to side as docilely as a lamb. One of Mrs. Garrety's strong, warm hands closed over the slim stem of her throat but held it as gently as if it were a delicate crystal vase. The other made short work of the remnants of the stage powder and paint.
    "There," she said upon completion. " 'Ave a look, dearie. It's your lovely face you'll be seeing. Not the French trollop's."
    India turned and spared a glance for her mirror. "Do you think the critics will take notice of what happened tonight?"
    Mrs. Garrety waved that concern aside. "I think you gave as good as you got. They were gentlemen behaving as louts. Well into their cups, I'd wager. For all their foolery, ye never lost your true audience." With an efficiency honed by experience, she began helping India out of her costume. The ribbons and stays did not tangle tonight. The separate pieces of the gown, bodice and skirt, then the undergarments, all fell away without a tug-of-war. The dresser whisked them to one side, draping them over a chair to be pressed later while India removed the whalebone panniers that had given her gown its classic silhouette. " 'Tis a pity, perhaps, that more didn't see you take his lordship to task right here."
    India glanced at her dresser in some surprise and saw Mrs. Garrety was watching her, something shrewd in her regard."You were particularly single-minded in your efforts to remove everyone tonight."
    "Yes, well, I saw him and his friends coming this way," she said crisply. "I couldn't predict what a scene it might be. I should 'ave known you'd hold your own. Didn't expect ye'd land him a facer, though. That was a picture, I tell ye. I'm thinking now that more should have enjoyed it."
    India said nothing, choosing not to reveal that Viscount Southerton had asked for the facer. She was not certain what to make of it. Perhaps it was part and parcel of some ridiculous wager made with his friends. Then again In any event, she did not care to entertain Mrs. Garrety's opinion on the matter. "I'll finish myself," she said. "Will you ask Doobin to flag a cab?"
    "Of course." Mrs. Garrety still took several minutes to gather India's costume for the wardrobe mistress before she left the room. By the time she returned, India was reaching for her pelisse. "Ye'll be wanting company for the ride home."
    "No," said India."I am certain I'll be fine. There's really no need for you to trouble yourself."
    " 'Tis no trouble at all."
    India forced a smile. "Truly, Mrs. Garrety, I will be fine. As you said, I can hold my own."
    Mrs. Garrety clucked her tongue gently. "Didn't mean to put that maggot in yer head. Ye need a protector. It's not the first time I've thought so. Ye have too many admirers, and I don't have enough 'ands to push them all out. And ye don't have enough 'ands to slap their faces. A protector's the answer. Just see if it isn't."
    India watched the dresser go. In the quiet aloneness that followed, India felt the first wavelet of fear uncurl inside her. It was quickly followed by another. Then another. Fighting the tide was ineffective. It only left her exhausted. She drew a shaky breath instead and closed the velvet frog at the throat of the pelisse. More important to