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thousand pounds he's donating to the theater.”
    “Platonic dinner?” she sneered. “If you're going to become a pimp, Mr. Scott, you may as well be honest about it. I'm hardly naive.”
    “No, merely ungrateful,” he said smoothly.
    “I've worked hard for you the past two years—that is all my contract requires.”
    “Any other actress in the company would accept Savage's invitation with pleasure.”
    “Then send one of them in my place. Send them all!”
    “Damn you,” Logan said softly. “Refuse Savage, if you must. But there will be a price to pay. You proved tonight that you deserve the leading part in My Lady Deception —but you won't get it, or any other parts you want this season, unless you accept Savage's invitation. And before you cry ‘unfair,’ remember that without the training I've given you, and my close attention to your career, you would probably be touring the provinces with a group of strolling players.”
    Julia shot him a look of impotent fury and walked away from him, brushing by the gentlemen who were attempting to gain introductions to her.
     
    Standing before the closed door of one of the second-floor bedroom suites, Julia lifted her hand to knock, then hesitated and let it fall to her side. The hour was late, everyone having retired to his room for the evening. Behind this door, and many of the others, there were sounds of drawers and armoire closets opening and closing, as well as the murmurs of servants as they helped guests change into their sleeping attire.
    After bribing a servant to tell her which room the Marquess of Savage was staying in, Julia had come here with a mixture of fear and resolution. She had never visited a man's room before, but this seemed to be the only way she could talk to Savage in private. She had to confront him, and make it clear that whatever his intentions were, he would get nothing from her. Perhaps then he would withdraw his dinner invitation.
    She was terribly nervous, almost as panicked as she had been earlier in the evening. Taking a deep breath to restore herself, she forced herself to knock. Her shaking knuckles barely grazed the panels. As slight as the sound was, it had been noticed. Julia blanched as she heard a muffled inquiry from within. Seconds later the handle turned, and she found herself staring up into Lord Savage's shadowy gray eyes.
    Julia tried to speak, but her throat had closed, and all she could do was stand there silently. Her heart beat frantically, until her ears were filled with the sound of rapid drumming. She had seen the actors at the Capital in various stages of undress, when quick costume changes made privacy impossible—but it was far different to be confronted with Lord Savage wearing only a burgundy silk dressing robe. In the confines of the suite, he seemed much larger than he had in the spacious ballroom downstairs, his broad shoulders looming over her, his bare golden throat level with her eyes.
    Savage inclined his head an inch or two, his gaze not moving from her face. She sensed that she had surprised him by appearing here, and at this hour. Good—she wanted to appear bold and confident.
    “May I come in?” she asked, her voice miraculously steady.
    Instead of replying, he opened the door and gestured for her to enter. Julia complied, then paused as she saw a valet gathering linens in the corner.
    “That will be all,” Savage murmured to the servant, who nodded and left at once, quietly closing the door behind him.
    They were alone, in a room filled with yellow brocade, mahogany furniture, and paintings of harmonious pastoral scenes…alone and facing each other, after all these years. There was no way Savage could know who she was, but still she felt exposed and in danger, with only her secrets to protect her.

Chapter 3
    S avage continued to stare at her until Julia began to wonder if there was something amiss with her appearance. Self-consciously she smoothed her hair, then jerked her hand away. It