She was so engrossed in the book she was reading that she didn't really hear the knocking on her door until it became pounding. Ariella started, curled up in a canopied four-poster bed, a book about Genghis Khan in her hands. For one more moment, visions of a thirteenth-century city danced in her mind, and she saw well-dressed upper-class men and women fleeing in panic amidst artisans and slaves, as the Mongol hordes galloped through the dusty streets on their warhorses.

"Ariella de Warenne!"

Ariella sighed. She had been able to smell the battle, as well as see it. She shook the last of her imaginings away. She was at Rose Hill, her parent's English country home; she had arrived last night. "Come in, Dianna," she called, setting the history aside.

Her half sister, Dianna, her junior by eight years, hurried in and stopped short. "You're not even dressed!" she exclaimed.

"I can't wear this gown to supper?" Ariella said with mock innocence. She didn't care about fashion, but she did know her family, and at supper the women wore evening dresses and jewels, the men dinner jackets.

Dianna's eyes popped. "You wore that dress to breakfast!"

Ariella slid to her feet, smiling. She still couldn't get over how much her little sister had matured. A year ago, Dianna had been more child than woman. Now it was hard to believe she was only sixteen, especially clad in the gown she was wearing. "Is it that late?" Vaguely, she glanced toward the windows of her bedroom and was surprised to see the sun hanging low in the sky. She had settled down with her tome hours ago.

"It is almost four and I know you know we are having company tonight."

Ariella did recall that Amanda, her stepmother, had