was setting, it was as if the Eternal City had been magically transformed.
All the balconies of the mansions and town- houses that ringed the Piazza del Popolo were ablaze with light and adorned with bright-colored banners and tapestries. Carriages decorated with bouquets and ribbons tried to maneuver their way through the packed streets that spiraled out from the Piazza, taking their wealthy passengers to balls and routs at a snail's pace. The square below was packed with princesses and pages, knights and peasants, milkmaids and clowns, all of them boisterous and wild. Musicians played their flutes and accordions. Jugglers, acrobats, and magicians all performed their tricks.
"Oh, look!" she cried and pointed to three hot air balloons that floated high above the city. "I've always wanted to ride in a hot air balloon!"
"Why?" he asked and turned to look at her.
"Because it would be like a view of the world through God's eyes," she answered. "Don't you think so?"
"I've never thought much about it," he answered, still looking at her thoughtfully.
Margaret leaned over the rail, returning her gaze to the plaza below. "What a crowd! It won't be like this all week, surely!"
"During the day, no. Since the festivities continue until dawn, the days are rather quiet."
"Well, one has to sleep sometime, I suppose."
"Exactly. But you'll find this sort of revelry will go on every night until Tuesday evening at eight o'clock, when Lent begins."
She looked over at him. "You talk as if you've seen Carnival before."
"Several times, both in Rome and Venice. I'd have thought that since your father has a villa here, you would also have seen all this before."
She shook her head. "No. Papa only bought the villa a year ago. He came here on business, and when he found out there was a property for sale that had some excellent Roman ruins, he bought it, of course!" She glanced at the man beside her with a wry smile. "My father is a passionate amateur archaeologist."
"Yes, I know. He showed me his project the first morning I was there."
"Did he?" She laughed. "Bored you to death with his pottery and mosaics, no doubt."
"Actually, no. He expounded some theories on Roman technology I found quite interesting." Trevor turned toward Margaret, studying her with a sudden intensity that made her acutely aware of how close he was. "What interests you, Miss Van Alden?"
He asked the question in a voice so low that she barely heard it. She sensed a deeper meaning behind his words than simple curiosity. "Oh, I doubt any of my interests would appeal to you, my lord," she answered lightly and escaped into the library.
He followed her, closing the balcony doors to muffle the sounds of the tumultuous crowd outside. "No? I've heard that you have quite a taste for adventure. Is that so?"
Her steps faltered. The cats had been gossiping about her again, and she wondered what information Ashton had given them. Slowly, she turned to face him. "A man of your rank and position should not engage in gossip."
"Gossip is often quite useful to a man of my rank and position." He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of port. "But I assure you, I do not engage in gossip, I simply listen. So fear not, Margaret," he added over one shoulder as if he could read what was in her mind. "Your penchant for romantic midnight rendezvous and your taste in literature are secrets I will take to my grave."
"Must you bring up those things?" she cried. "I don't wish to discuss them."
"Perhaps not, but I find them interesting and very suggestive. In fact, they confirm what I have been told about you."
"Just what have you been told?" she demanded.
"That you are a very modern young woman who is fond of cigars, wagers, and daring escapades."
She knew the incident to which he referred. "Well, I'm sure it would please you to know that the cigars made me sick, I lost both of the wagers I placed, and my daring escapade into the gentlemen's card room ended with Lord
All the balconies of the mansions and town- houses that ringed the Piazza del Popolo were ablaze with light and adorned with bright-colored banners and tapestries. Carriages decorated with bouquets and ribbons tried to maneuver their way through the packed streets that spiraled out from the Piazza, taking their wealthy passengers to balls and routs at a snail's pace. The square below was packed with princesses and pages, knights and peasants, milkmaids and clowns, all of them boisterous and wild. Musicians played their flutes and accordions. Jugglers, acrobats, and magicians all performed their tricks.
"Oh, look!" she cried and pointed to three hot air balloons that floated high above the city. "I've always wanted to ride in a hot air balloon!"
"Why?" he asked and turned to look at her.
"Because it would be like a view of the world through God's eyes," she answered. "Don't you think so?"
"I've never thought much about it," he answered, still looking at her thoughtfully.
Margaret leaned over the rail, returning her gaze to the plaza below. "What a crowd! It won't be like this all week, surely!"
"During the day, no. Since the festivities continue until dawn, the days are rather quiet."
"Well, one has to sleep sometime, I suppose."
"Exactly. But you'll find this sort of revelry will go on every night until Tuesday evening at eight o'clock, when Lent begins."
She looked over at him. "You talk as if you've seen Carnival before."
"Several times, both in Rome and Venice. I'd have thought that since your father has a villa here, you would also have seen all this before."
She shook her head. "No. Papa only bought the villa a year ago. He came here on business, and when he found out there was a property for sale that had some excellent Roman ruins, he bought it, of course!" She glanced at the man beside her with a wry smile. "My father is a passionate amateur archaeologist."
"Yes, I know. He showed me his project the first morning I was there."
"Did he?" She laughed. "Bored you to death with his pottery and mosaics, no doubt."
"Actually, no. He expounded some theories on Roman technology I found quite interesting." Trevor turned toward Margaret, studying her with a sudden intensity that made her acutely aware of how close he was. "What interests you, Miss Van Alden?"
He asked the question in a voice so low that she barely heard it. She sensed a deeper meaning behind his words than simple curiosity. "Oh, I doubt any of my interests would appeal to you, my lord," she answered lightly and escaped into the library.
He followed her, closing the balcony doors to muffle the sounds of the tumultuous crowd outside. "No? I've heard that you have quite a taste for adventure. Is that so?"
Her steps faltered. The cats had been gossiping about her again, and she wondered what information Ashton had given them. Slowly, she turned to face him. "A man of your rank and position should not engage in gossip."
"Gossip is often quite useful to a man of my rank and position." He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of port. "But I assure you, I do not engage in gossip, I simply listen. So fear not, Margaret," he added over one shoulder as if he could read what was in her mind. "Your penchant for romantic midnight rendezvous and your taste in literature are secrets I will take to my grave."
"Must you bring up those things?" she cried. "I don't wish to discuss them."
"Perhaps not, but I find them interesting and very suggestive. In fact, they confirm what I have been told about you."
"Just what have you been told?" she demanded.
"That you are a very modern young woman who is fond of cigars, wagers, and daring escapades."
She knew the incident to which he referred. "Well, I'm sure it would please you to know that the cigars made me sick, I lost both of the wagers I placed, and my daring escapade into the gentlemen's card room ended with Lord
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