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her voice. “Oh, Erick, what am I to do?”
    This bewitching woman wanted to know what he thought. She turned to him to solve her problem. Erick believed that was as it should be, but, even so, his chest swelled with masculine pride. He would take care of it for her. He would show her he could handle anything.
    “If she will not talk to you, perhaps she will speak to someone closer her own age.” He smiled into her worried gaze. “If you wish, I could ask my father to have a chat with her. He is well versed in diplomacy. Surely he can determine what is amiss.”
    She returned his smile with a sigh of relief. “That would be wonderful.”
    He bent his head, and his lips met hers in a gentle kiss, meant, quite honorably, only to provide comfort. Her breath teased his and spurred his unquenched need. Her lips opened beneath his increasing pressure and his tongue tentatively traced the full, pouting curve of her mouth. She sighed, and her body melted against his. Erick knew he would withdraw momentarily, stilling his desire, marshalling his control, but for now he lost himself in the still forbidden taste of her.
    Belinda’s eyes closed, and she marveled in the new and unique sensation of his lips on hers. His exploring tongue triggered a wave of odd but delightful shivers starting deep within her core and vibrating outward. A vague desire for something more floated through her, and her body molded itself closer to his. What that something more was, she had no idea.
    Locked in his embrace, at this moment all thought of her mother’s behavior vanished, obscured beneath a haze of mysterious and elusive desire.

    Sabrina tugged on the bellpull by her bed and impatiently awaited the arrival of her butler. She’d slept soundly after translating the letter and was now eager to set her plans in motion. The directions to the gold were both concise and clever. It was no wonder the treasure had never been located. It did bother her that she had only the second page of the missive, and she wondered if there was anything of importance on the first page, anything that would bear on her search. But she waved the thought away. This was all she had, and it would have to do.
    Right now, though, she faced a more immediate challenge: Simply getting to Egypt would cost a frightful amount of money. She was by no means destitute, but neither did she have the extra funds such an expedition would require. As much as she hated to do it, as much as the thought distressed her, she would have to sell her jewels.
    Sabrina sat down before her dressing table and pulled open the bottom left drawer. A large Italian marquetry box filled the space. She tugged it out and hefted its substantial weight onto the table. With a reverent touch, she opened the lid.
    Now this was treasure. She’d bought and paid for every piece herself. Selected every bauble with care. Delighted in every sparkling ruby and every glowing emerald. For the second time in her life Sabrina would have to sell her jewels to ensure survival for herself and her daughter. The sheer panic of those long-ago days lingered in the back of her mind. But now, as then, she squared her shoulders and stifled the fear. The marchioness of Stanford was made of sterner stuff.
    Sabrina pulled out strand after glittering strand. Perfectly matched pearls. Diamonds flashing rainbow fire. Sapphires the deep, soulful blue of true love. It was not a particularly extensive collection, but the quality was impeccable.
    A discreet knock sounded at the door.
    “Come in,” she said absently.
    “You rang for me, milady?”
    Sabrina turned at the familiar voice. “Yes, Wills, please come in and close the door.”
    Wills complied and stood waiting in an attitude of dutiful expectancy. She eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. No doubt he would not like what she was about to say.
    “Wills,” her words came slowly and deliberately, “I fear I shall have to leave town for a while.” She hesitated, watching warily for