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leaving only a couple of the legs. Those wide generous lips made his mouth water with the desire to taste them. What did she think about him? Did he pique her curiosity?
     
    She jumped, and he wondered if his presence had caused the bizarre reaction. But as she tu rned with a smile and opened her mouth to speak, her friendly expression melted into confu sion as she looked at the space behind her.
     
    What bothered the chit? Did she have an o veractive imagination? What caused her such animated expression ?
     
    Soon—very soon he would discover the reason. The mystery surrounding her would be solved. Once the secret unraveled, he would put her on a shelf with his other memorabilia and return to putting in his time until death .
     

Chapter 2
     
    Nicola resisted the urge to glance behind her again. Why did she keep hearing that ethereal voice when nobody was near? It all started when she conversed with the very nice Lieutenant Tell . Although she told him that he hadn't done anything to offend her, but that she had to be alone for a while, she could see he didn't believe her. H is hurt expression would haunt her .
     
    Truth be told , she was feeling spooked and more than slightly crazy. A dd insult to injury, the Earl of Falconwo od watched her with unnerving intensity. The fine hairs on her nape tingled again . Against her will, her attention riveted on the source.
     
    How strange that he was at a ball so far beneath his social status. He stood half a head taller than the rest of the guests in the chamber. His dark breeches and matching waistcoat were in sharp contrast to the clothes worn by the ladies around him. Although the women eyed him with fascination from behind their fans, none of them conversed with him.
     
    A falcon among parakeets.
     
    Unable to look away, Nicola experienced a shiver of apprehension creeping down her spine. Polite society didn ' t quite know how to cope with this wild bird of prey that had rece ntly alighted among them after his te n- ye ar exile to India. She didn ' t know, either, and she didn ' t care to learn.
     
    " Mis s, your undergarments are gone. "
     
    There it was again. For a moment she wondered if the Black Falcon had conveyed his thought s to her through some sort of mind power, and then rolled her eyes over that idea. As if she believed anyone had a sort of telepathy . Perhaps it was due to lack of sleep. She had spent most of the night type-setting the pamphlets in Mr. Campbell ' s print shop. It must be ringing in her ears that sometimes happened when she became exhausted.
     
    A whirring stirred her nape, causing Nicola to whip around to see only an innocent potted plant and a portrait of a Campbell with his hunting dog . Was somebody throwing something at her? She inspected the floor, hoping to find a rubber band, a paper airplane—something.  But she could only detect a couple of deep scratches in the wood treading , and a piece of s tarfish dyed in her Clockwork Blue . C heeks as hot as a steaming vat of dye , she stooped and picked up the crumbs . As she rose, she pretended to smooth down the back of her gown as she groped for the small rolls of fa bric . The stitching had held. Of course it had. T ime to go to the ladies ' re tiring chamber.
     
    She must regain her composure—if anything, splash a water on her face. If that didn ' t help, she might as well find Ramsey and force him to go home with her. More and more she discovered she couldn ' t trust him to stay out of trouble. She would have to servants keep an eye on him if this voice in her head didn ' t go away and she was forced to retire.
     
    Nerves humming down her spine, she turned from the Earl ' s disconcerting stare and strived for what she hoped was a serene expression . She ventured down the hall, breathing a sigh of relief as she slipped through the ornate mahogany doorway that led into the ladies ' retiring chamber. When she saw no one occupied the room, she chided herself for her fanciful