“Your happiness affects mine,” she said evenly. “Of course I would worry that you’re happy.”

She hooked the gown on the dressing room door, then allowed Steve to untie the laces of her corset. The stiff garment was so constrictive, forcing her to remain upright, binding her ribs almost painfully now. Ginny heaved a sigh of relief as the laces were freed and she could breathe more easily. Slipping on the silk dressing gown, she moved to the small mahogany table cluttered with bottles of expensive perfume and powders. Deftly unfastening the combs that held her hair atop the crown of her head, she eyed him in the mirror when he didn’t respond. Nothing showed in his face, only that careful attention that was like a mask.

Oh, I feel so awkward, so uncertain!

“We have the children to think of,” she pointed out as her hair fell free, a copper cloud that framed her face and made her look far too pale, so that her eyes resembled glittering bits of green glass. “I admit that I haven’t done what I should for them, but I want to start over. I want us to start over, Steve. I want to go home, home to Mexico. I think that’s where the children need to be, and—”

Disbelief flashed in his eyes, and his brow shot up. “Mexico? Christ, Ginny, you can’t be serious. Or haven’t you heard it’s a battleground now that Díaz is fighting for power?”

“Yes, of course I have.” She tugged the silver-backed hairbrush through her hair, her eyes focused on Steve’s reflection in the mirror. “But Lerdo is president now, isn’t he? If the fighting is nearly over, it should soon be safe. I do not see why we can’t make plans to return—”

“Maybe your memory is shorter than mine,” he said harshly, “because I can damn well remember how it was when Maximilian was in Mexico. Have you forgotten the Juaristas, the revolution, the soldaderos?”

An involuntary shudder tracked chills down her spine, and Steve’s voice softened a little at her visible reaction.

“Ginny, the fighting is not yet over. I won’t risk the children in Mexico right now, and for that matter, I won’t risk you there until I make sure it’s safe.”

Her fingers shook slightly as she placed the hairbrush carefully on the dressing table; silver gleamed in the soft lamplight. “Does this mean that you intend to go to Mexico?”

A faint, rueful smile tucked one corner of his mouth inward, but his eyes were watchful. “You’ve always had a way of getting straight to the point when you choose. Yes, Ginny love, that’s exactly what I mean. As ambassador—”