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nightgown. Its familiar warmth was comforting and she wrapped her arms around herself. She sat before the fire in the brocade striped rosewood chair, alternating between brushing her hair and eating the assortment of sandwiches and pastries Mrs. Roget had thoughtfully included on her tea tray.
    When her long hair was finally dry, Diana tied it back with a small yellow ribbon she pulled from her satchel and then climbed onto the bed. She sat down wearily on the soft feather mattress, pulling the deep blue satin comforter up over her legs. Twisting around, Diana piled two of the pillows on top of each other and lazily stretched out on her back, her tired eyes coming to rest on the ornate silk bed trimmings on the canopy above her.
    Diana was prepared to spend the remainder of the afternoon tossing and turning about, but she had underestimated her exhaustion, both physical and emotional. She would just rest for a few minutes before supper, she decided. No sooner had she closed her eyes than she was fast asleep.
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    Diana came awake slowly, the brilliant sunlight streaming through the open draped windows warming her with its intensity. Gradually she opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the brightness of the sun. Strange, she wondered sleepily, the window curtains almost looked blue instead of white in the sunshine today. She blinked several times before realizing the window dressings were indeed a soft shade of blue. She sat up quickly, her mind momentarily disoriented as she surveyed her surroundings.
    The events of the previous day came rushing into her mind with startling clarity, and it took her a few moments to regain her composure. She rose from the bed and walked barefoot across the deep, lush carpet to close the draperies and shut out the sunlight. The room immediately became dim and dreary without the golden warmth of the sun.
    Diana heaved a deep sigh, turned back to the window, and reopened the drapes. She was having enough trouble keeping her mood steady without creating an atmosphere of depression, she decided. She rang for a servant to bring fresh water and assist her with her toilet. A young maid, who introduced herself as Gwen, first brought the requested water, then produced a tray with hot chocolate and freshly baked rolls.
    â€œMrs. Roget thought you might be hungry since you missed supper last evening,” Gwen said, placing the heavy tray on a small table near the window. The maid left to retrieve Diana’s clothing, which had been cleaned and pressed the previous evening.
    Diana ate her breakfast thoughtfully while she waited for the maid to return with her things. After she dressed, Diana sat patiently, watching the young maid skillfully brush out her long hair and, upon Diana’s instructions, secure it in a tight coil at the base of her neck.
    â€œYou have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen,” Gwen said sincerely, winding the soft, silky tresses. “Even Lady Caroline’s hair isn’t this light in color, nor as soft.”
    At the mention of Tristan’s wife, Diana felt a sharp pang of guilt, remembering how distressed Caroline had been at her arrival yesterday. Her first order of business that day had to be a discussion with Caroline, Diana decided. No matter how awkward the situation, Diana would not allow two innocent people to suffer a misunderstanding on her account—especially after Tristan had been so kind to her the day before.
    â€œHas the family breakfasted yet, Gwen?” Diana inquired.
    â€œJust Lord Tristan, madam,” Gwen replied. “Lady Caroline is not feeling well today. She is still abed.”
    â€œI see,” Diana said, hoping that she was not in part responsible for Caroline’s confinement to her bed. “Please convey a message to Lord Tristan that I would like to have a word with him at his earliest convenience.”
    â€œYes, madam. But his lordship has left for his club, and he is not expected back until