Iphiginia hesitated on the brink of the monument's threshold. The lantern illuminated only the first few feet of the stone passageway.

A cold, damp draft seemed to emanate from the depths of the sepulchral grotto.

Iphiginia's pulse raced so swiftly that it made her feel light-headed. Her stomach churned. The urge to turn and flee back to the waiting hackney nearly overwhelmed her.

She clutched the bag of banknotes tightly, took a deep breath, and walked a few paces into the grotto.

It was as though she were walking into a cave. The darkness was so deep that even the lantern light appeared to weaken in the face of it. Iphiginia could see that whoever had built and dedicated the monument had spared no expense. The stone walls were heavily carved. The design was a strange combination of twisting vines and open books.

Iphiginia raised the lantern to read the words that had been engraved on one of the stone books:

The path of vengeance takes many twists and turns but it is sure and certain.

The terrible groan of iron hinges sounded from the open mouth of the grotto. Iphiginia spun around, a scream on her lips. "No."

She dropped the sack of money and ran for the entrance.

She was too late. A cloaked figure appeared briefly in the mist. The iron gates slammed shut. The ominous rasp of a key in a lock echoed down the passageway.

Iphiginia fought back terror as she raced toward the gate. "Wait. Please, wait. I'm in here."

She reached the scaled gates just in time to see the cloaked figure disappear into the fog. She gripped the iron bars of the gates and shoved with all her strength. They did not budge.

She was trapped in the sepulchral grotto.

She opened her mouth to call for help. Surely the coachman who had brought her here would be able to hear her. But even as the thought occurred, she beard the receding clatter of carriage wheels and steel horseshoes on the pavement.

The hackney was leaving.

"Help me," Iphiginia shouted into the dark mist. "I'm here, in the grotto. Please come back."

There was no sound from the graveyard. The mist seemed to thicken at the gates of the grotto as though preparing to invade the interior.

A rush of anger overcame Iphiginia's panic. "Bloody hell."

Then she noticed the small piece of paper lying at her feet. She bent down and picked up the note. The lantern light revealed that the missive was sealed with black wax.


You have been warned. The next time you interfere, the penalty will be far more serious.


"Bloody hell." Iphiginia glanced at the lantern. She wondered how much longer it would continue to burn.

And then she wondered what Marcus was doing and whether or not he had noticed that she had not turned up at the Cheltenham's' ball.

Marcus stopped pacing the length of Iphiginia's library when he heard the door open. He swung around to confront Amelia. She was wearing a nightcap and a chintz wrapper. Her face was pale and strained.

"Where the devil is she, Miss Farley? And before you answer, you had better know that I am in no mood for lies. Iphiginia was to meet me at one o'clock at the Cheltenham's'. It is now nearly two."

"My lord, I will not claim to be your greatest supporter, but I do believe I am rather glad to see you tonight." Amelia closed the door and walked into the room. She glanced at the tall clock. "I have been growing increasingly anxious since midnight."

"Anxious about what?" Marcus clenched his fingers around the edge of the marble mantel. The disturbing sensation he had begun to experience sometime during the past hour was riding him hard now. Something was wrong.

"It is Iphiginia, my lord. I am very worried." "What is she about this time? If you tell me that she has taken it into her head to explore some other man's study in search of black wax and a phoenix seal, I vow I will not be responsible for my actions. I have had enough of her reckless ways."

Amelia clutched the lapels of her prim wrapper and regarded Marcus with somber eyes. "She is at Reeding Cemetery."

Marcus stared at her, dumbfounded. "A cemetery? At this hour? For God's sake, why?"

"Lady Guthrie received another blackmail note." "Damn it to bee."

"The instructions were to leave the money at a new sepulchral monument in Reeding Cemetery, Iphiginia undertook to carry out the task in her aunt's place."

Marcus felt as if he had just stepped off a cliff. For an instant raw fear gripped his gut. And then rage swept through him. "How did she dare to do something like this without telling me?"

"Iphiginia knows that you do not trust her. Why should she trust you with all of her secrets?"

"She goes too far this time." Marcus strode toward the door.

"My lord, where are you going?"

"Where do you think I'm going? Reeding Cemetery." "Thank you," Amelia whispered. "I have been so

concerned.»

"Save your thanks. I doubt that Iphiginia will he glad to see me. In my present mood, I am bound to prove even less amusing company for her than the ghosts in the cemetery.

The gates of Reeding Cemetery stood open. The gravestones and monuments beyond were barely visible in the mist.

Marcus got out of the carriage, a lantern in one hand and a pistol in the other. He glanced up at Dinks. "Wait here."

"Aye, m'lord. Would ye be wantin' any assistance?" "No. Watch the gates. If anyone tries to leave before I do, stop him." "Aye, m'lord." Dinks reached under his box for the pistol he kept hidden among his carriage tools. "I'll take care o' the matter for ye."

Marcus walked into the graveyard and contemplated,his surroundings for a moment. The swirling gray mist was so thick that he could not see much farther than the nearest rows of headstones.

He glanced down. The flaring light of the lantern revealed crushed damp grass between a row of stones. Someone else had come this way quite recently. It was impossible to tell whether the person had been entering or leaving the cemetery.

Marcus went forward swiftly, following the trail of matted grass. He ignored the smaller tombstones, searching for the larger, more imposing monuments that various people had erected in honor of the dear departed.

The dark mouth of a grotto loomed up suddenly in the fog. The deep sense of foreboding that plagued Marcus grew abruptly more intense. The footsteps he followed went right up to the gate and disappeared on the other side.

A dim glow of light from deep within the monument indicated the presence of a fading lantern.

"Iphiginia." Marcus strode to the gate and discovered at once that it was locked. He put the lantern down on the ground but kept the pistol in his hand. He shook the iron bars with the fury of a caged beast. The heavy gate rattled on its hinges. "Iphiginia, are you in there? For God's sake, answer me."

"Marcus." The lantern light drew closer. Footsteps sounded on the stone floor of the grotto. "Thank heavens, it's you."

"Bloody hell." Marcus watched as Iphiginia appeared at the end of the passageway. "I'll kill whoever is responsible for this, I swear it."

Iphiginia rushed toward the gate from the depths of the grotto. She stumbled to a halt on the other side of the iron bars. Her heavy gray cloak swirled around her. Her eyes were huge in the shadows of the hood.

Marcus's stomach clenched when he saw the stark expression that drew her delicate face taut. Her soft mouth trembled. She was breathing much too quickly. It was clear that fear had come close to tearing her apart, but she had somehow managed to retain her self-control.

Marcus knew that only sheer willpower had kept Iphiginia from succumbing to panic. Intense admiration for her courage surged through him.

"I saw the lantern light." There was a tremulous quality in Iphiginia's voice, but her words were astonishingly steady. She gripped one of the iron gate bars. "I prayed it would be you, but I could not be certain, so I stayed back inside the grotto."

Marcus put his hand through the bars and caught her chin. "I shall fetch my coachman. He will likely have something among his carriage tools that I can use to open this lock. Stay right where you are. I shall be back in a moment."

Iphiginia smiled weakly. "I am not going anywhere." "No," Marcus agreed grimly. "And I do not believe that you will be going anywhere again at night without me.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for Marcus to break the lock on the monument gate. When it finally came apart in his hands, he tossed the hammer and chisel to Dinks.

"Here, take these." "Yes m'lord." Dinks took charge of the tools. Marcus jerked open the gate. He started into the passageway but halted abruptly as Iphiginia flew out of the grotto.

He braced himself when he realized that she was heading straight toward him.

"Marcus. Deep satisfaction swept through him when she hurled herself into his arms. He caught her and held her very tightly until she stopped shivering.

"Hell and damnation, woman. Do not ever, ever do this to — me again," he growled into her hair. Then he looked at Dinks over the top of her head. "Let us be off."

"Ye won't get any argument from me, m'lord." Dinks wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the sepulchral grotto. "Don't much fancy hanging around a graveyard at any time, let alone at three in the mornin'."

Iphiginia raised her head and looked at Marcus and Dinks. "Thank you both," she whispered. "I shall always he grateful."