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"Why remind me of this?" Michel asked.

"Because you wish to go with me when I leave. And so it is my duty to tell you that this would be a wretched idea. Splendid for me, perhaps, but terrible for you."

"And why is that?"

"Because you are young, my dear boy."

"And you have the confidence of someone as young as I."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you assume I would leave here with you at a moment's notice." He managed a wry smile which Elliott returned.

"Tell me I'm wrong," the earl whispered.

He could not. Indeed, he could barely manage to meet the man's curious gaze, and he could feel himself blushing and pouting despite himself. "Your tricks at the tables. Perhaps that is all I'm after."

Elliott laughed warmly, unoffended. "Luck, my dear boy. That's all. Simple luck. The same luck that brought me such a lovely evening with the likes of you."

"You flatter me."

"No. I speak with greater directness than you are used to."

Yes, Michel thought. Because you are fearless, and it is the source of your fearlessness I wish to know. To savor.

"A wife is meeting you at your next port of call," Michel said.

"Not at all," Elliott said.

"She is. A wife and a family of small mewling children and it would be impossible to explain me as your new valet because I am so handsome and young. And French!"

"Ah! I knew it! You do wish to join me," Elliott responded.

"Your luck makes my tongue loosen, I fear."

"My wife and I have an understanding and separate lives, each lived with an appropriate degree of expectation of the other, and our only child is grown. And neither one is the reason I will have to bid you goodbye at the end of this night. But enough about me. What about you, Michel? Is there a special woman in your life?"

"I have made many friends in Monte Carlo."

"I see. But you prefer the company of men, don't you? I could feel it."

"Was it a feeling you enjoyed?"

"Very much so. But I can dance by the light of either the sun or the moon. If that's not the case with you, dear boy, you should feel no shame over it. But neither should you become smitten with the first man who doesn't make love to you as if it's a quick and shameful thing that must be dispatched promptly so as to avoid discovery."

"You believe you are this man to me?" There was a tremor in Michel's voice, and the presence of it turned his question into a statement, a confession. Yes. You have been this man to me, Earl of Rutherford.

"Do not allow me to be, dear Michel. This is what I ask of you. Take your memories of me and of this night, and allow them to inspire you."

"Inspire me in what way?"

"Inspire you to shun all those who would treat you as if you were something shameful."

Mustn't cry at these words. Must remain calm, poised. Professional, if such a concept could even apply to this night. After all, Elliott had not yet offered a gift, and Michel could not bring himself to ask for one. Indeed, this unhurried exchange, here on this balcony with its beautiful view, was gift enough.

"You are a complete mystery, Elliott, a mystery who says strange things about life and death and kings."

Elliott laughed and rose to his feet. When he cupped Michel's face in his hands, Michel could not help but gaze up into the man's dazzlingly blue eyes.