she flung the book to the table, rattling the crystal. "there you have it, diana. your sister is a scheming, cunning temptress. she stole lord payne from right under your nose, and she's been plotting it since last summer. from the very first. imagine."

"he was never mine to steal." diana blushed. "i'm sure it's not how it sounds."

"perhaps not," kate said, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of minerva highwood as a shameless seductress-and failing utterly. "but i think we can safely conclude that wherever minerva went with lord payne, she went of her own accord. she certainly wasn't abducted."

"devious thing." mrs. highwood spooned a large bite of syllabub into her mouth. "when did this happen? she never showed any interest in men. i wouldn't have dreamed minerva knew a kiss from a carbuncle. and now . . ."

"oh," charlotte breathed, suddenly freezing in place and staring rapt at her spoon. "now. just imagine where she must be now."

kate choked on a laugh.

diana squeezed her eyes shut. "charlotte, please. let's not."

chapter twelve

for the second time in as many nights, minerva woke to tortured groans.

this time, they weren't colin's.

when she jolted awake, she found him sleeping peacefully at her side. through the wall, however, horrid noises reached her ears. violent thumping and desperate cries.

"colin. colin!" she shook his arm. "wake up. someone's being murdered."

"what? who?" he sat bolt upright in bed, and his head bashed against the sloping rafter. "besides me, you mean?"

she laid a touch to his arm and gave a meaningful tilt of her head. "listen."

he closed his eyes.

the sickening sounds of violence continued. she heard a woman's shriek.

"well?" she prodded, growing frantic. "shouldn't you dress, and quickly? ring for the innkeeper, at least? we must do something."

he sighed and rubbed his face. "that is not murder you're hearing. no one's dying. except in the french way."

"what? what can you mean, 'the french way'?"

"copulation," he said, flopping back on the bed and flinging his wrist over his eyes. "they're not fighting, whoever they are. they're having a grand time indeed." under his breath, he added, "curse them."

"is it always so loud?" she asked.

"only when it's good."

"good?" minerva frowned, listening. nothing about that sounded good. the poor woman was even crying out to god.

"how is it you're so curious and educated, and yet so na