Lilith was, as was her habit, punctually ready at precisely eight pm. Christopher, on the other hand was late, something in which he was as consistent as she was in her punctuality. So she was left standing on the landing pad, Peter holding an umbrella over her to protect her the efforts of her android maid Mary, to whom she could attribute the impeccable preparation of her wardrobe and hair.

She waited as patiently as was possible, but Christopher had not appeared by ten after eight and the rain and the chill were starting to seep into Lilith's bones. It was not the chill she minded but the lateness, as it would hardly be acceptable to be late to the part of such a close friend as Arthur Meighen.

"Peter, please ask Paul to locate Mr. Farrar," she said.

"Right away, madam," said Peter. Bowing his head, a light flashed inside his translucent skull, indicating that he was transmitting a signal, communicating with each other wordlessly with another android some distance away.

"Mr. Farrar is on his way, madam," said Peter after a moment.

Lilith sighed. "I think it is actually physically impossible for my husband to be on time, Peter," she said to the android.

"All data would suggest that you are correct, madam," said Peter.

Lilith smiled with genuine amusement, at which moment Christopher joined her. He looked well in a tuxedo, the tailoring of which accented his natural beauty to such an extent that it made everyone, men and women alike, young and old, so helpless to his charm.

"Christopher, you're late," she told him, careful to keep most of the peevishness out of her tone. 

"I am forever on time, my darling," he purred, leaning forward. He did not dare to touch Lilith, not in private, not when anyone else would not have the benefit of their act as a devoted pair, but what he did dare was to wink at her.

"Christopher," she warned. Her tone was flat. It was indeed only a warning, and something of an empty one. She had little to threaten him with if he overstepped his bounds.

"I'm sorry, Lilith. I couldn't resist," he said. His eyes flashed with his flirtatious verve, one of his more winsome expressions.

"We're going to be late if we wait any longer," she said. She nodded to Peter, who waved. A hovercraft floated towards them and stopped a few paces away, its door opening to reveal the android who parked it expertly and then sprang out.

"Thank you, Simon," said Lilith, as their android chauffeur extented his hand to her. He ignored Christopher in favour of his Mrs. Farrar, bowing as he helped her into the hovercraft. In a moment, he had opened a door for Christopher and then, impossibly lithe, climbed into the driver's seat.

"Peter?" said Lilith.

"Yes, madam?" he said. At this point, she'd come to rest in the roomy back seat of the hovercraft and was leaning out the window. Christopher, on her left, had already sunk down into the rich leather seats. And Lilith, watching him as she turned, saw that though his posture was relaxed and langorous - one might even say bored - his eyes glowed. His bearing was affected, though not the hot passion in his eyes.

Those bright, sparkling orbs flashed and glittered with mischief. Lilith knew that look enough to know what it meant. When he saw that she was watching him, he smiled and turned his eyes to gaze out the window.

By contrast, Peter's face seemed so starkly mechanical in comparison to the bright, vivacious face of Christopher. Peter's smooth, nearly featureless - save for his dark eyepieces and the glowing strip that served as a mouth - face was in such shocking contrast to Christopher's lively one that it made her pause for a moment.

"I think that Mr. Farrar will have a guest tonight," she said, glancing back at Christopher. Based on the way he smirked, she knew her guess was correct. "So please tell Mary to make up my bedroom for me."

"Right away, madam. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Farrar, Mrs. Farrar," said Peter. And then, bowing, he strode away and into the house.

"Right!" cried Christopher, leaping suddenly into action and into life. He thumped the partition between the Farrars and their android with one hand. "Let's get a move on!"

"Of course, sir," said Simon and, with a flick of his robotic wrist, put the hovercraft into gear and flew away.

As they soared out over the city Lilith turned, for a moment, to watch her husband. Christopher sighed, slumping down in his seat, now full of as much languor as he had been full of life before. Lilith was used to this. Christopher had a capricious spirit and moods that shifted in the blink of an eye.

"Lilith," he moaned, looking as though she'd asked of him some great and onerous task. Lilith did not reply. This, too, was his usual behaviour. Christopher was a creature of impulse, not of careful methodical planning. He would spring upon the woman or man who took his fancy, whether young, old, married, engaged, single, widowed, divorced. He took absolutely none of into consideration.

She did not reply. She had little desire to know what he was about to say. Christopher sighed again and covered his face with his long-fingered hands. When he next spoke, his words were muffled by his palms, his voice issuing from behind his hands.

"Ugh," he said, and then said nothing for quite some time. Lilith was pleased with his silence. Christopher might have been difficult to deal with in his splenetic tempers, but at least then he was quiet.

They soared past buildings, climbing up into the low-hanging clouds. Lilith stared out at the sky. It was a deep indigo, visible only in breaks in the grey wisps of cloud. Lilith could almost taste the lightning in the air. As it flashed beside them she felt the hairs stand up on her arms.

From behind her, she heard Christopher give a sigh, the ragged way in which he breath huffed sounding as thought it were a sigh of exasperation or unhappiness, perhaps even anger. But she did not turn around to ask the reason for it. He was sighing to get her attention. She would not give it to him.

"Lilith," he groaned suddenly.

Now she turned, but slowly enough that he should not think she was indulging him too much. He sounded almost in pain. Wordlessly, she bade him continue, quirking one brow and waving her hand.

"I don't want to go to this bloody party, Lilith," he whined, making it sound as though the prospect of socializing was in the realm of some sort of punishment.

With an acerbic, pert little smile, Lilith carefully called Christopher's bluff. "You don't have to go, Christopher. I could easily tell Mr. Meighen that you are ill, or otherwise engaged," she said. And then she waited for his answer. When it did not come, she went on. "You're perfectly entitled to offend Arthur Meighen. Also to offend his wife, who I'm sure you remember."

Now he answered. He sighed like a martyr and hauled himself into a sitting position. "I suppose I could manage the party tonight," he said, and he sounded as though he was resigning himself to death at the guillotine, not to mingling at a party. Parties were something someone like Christopher ought to enjoy - they were an opportunity to be seen, and to be praised for wit, charm, and beauty. Moreover for Christopher they were one of his main hunting grounds.

"Good of you, Christopher." Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

"Don't mock me," he snapped. His eyes flashed and he bared his teeth as he spoke.

"I'm not," she lied.

Christopher quirked a little smile. This time his teeth showed in good temper. In unison, they both turned their heads towards Christopher's window, feeling the hovercraft tilt down and descend towards a brightly-lit landing pad.

"The residence of Mr. Arthur Meighen, Mr. and Mrs. Farrar," said Simon.

Christopher moved to get out of the hovercraft but stopped when he saw Lilith pausing. "Thank you, Simon," she acknowledged him.

"Of course, madam," he said.

Seeing her door opened by one of Mr. Meighen's android servants, Lilith got out. She took this one's hand, noting with distaste the lavishness of the machine. She was no stranger to finery, but even she found it gaudy to cover an android with gems as the Meighens had done.

Carefully navigating her way through the rain, she found Christopher. She had already altered her carriage toward her husband, affecting the intimacy that was required of her in public. She smiled, drew close to his side, and he put one arm about her waist, the movement so rehearsed that Lilith knew it looked effortless.

"Show time," he whispered in her ear. She had always hated that expression. What she did not was not a show. It was not for play. This was business. There was no pleasure in it.

He smiled as they, pressed close together, were escorted by the android into the main room of Mr. Meighen's spacious residence. Christopher kissed her cheek as they walked, and she accepted it with the coyest of airs. That was their routine. In public, they employed the casual touches and kisses that maintained the facade that Christopher found so valuable - that of a happy, loving marriage.

Of course, they never touched in private. That had always been their agreement - intimacy in public but never in private. To touch, caress, and kiss where others could see them, for the benefit of an act for which Lilith was paid, that she was perfectly at ease with. To feel Christopher's hands and mouth, things she knew so well, against her skin and lips and hair while in the company of others was not something Lilith enjoyed but it was something she was used to.

It was required of her, and that was why she bore it. They were married for the benefit of Christopher's public image. And Lilith kept that image as pure as the driven snow, spotless, and free from any stain of scandal. It was convenient, artful, and hard work.

Hard work because it was quite the task to manage Christopher's social engagements and her own, to maintain his house, to do the required charitable work. Hard work because she most certainly did not like Christopher.

"You don't like me?" he'd said, affecting a gloomy pout, when she'd expressed this to him one night over dinner, not too long ago.

"No," she'd replied, making no attempt to cover her contempt. "You're very winning, Christopher, and very charming. But no, I do not like you."

Christopher had laughed and his eyes had flashed. "Oh, then I have the advantage. Or the disadvantage. Because I like you, Lilith, just for things like that. You're so hideously cruel and pretend that it's only your job to be."

Lilith had not defended herself against the insult that came at the end of a sentence that had begun playfully enough and ended bitterly. She had simply given him a disdainful look over her fork and had gone back to eating.

"Lilith! Christopher!" cried Arthur. He bounded over to them and embraced them together before turning to Lilith. "Lilith - darling. My God. You look positively lovely."

"Doesn't she always?" asked Christopher. Lilith, knowing what was expected of her, smiled brilliantly and lifted her face so that Christopher could place a kiss on her blushing cheek.

"That's what he says," she said, slipping a tiny jab at her husband into her speech. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Arthur smiling broadly, oblivious to the way Christopher's smile became something a bit more heated. He turned his gaze to her and then, seizing her waist in his hands, spoke.

"I always say it because I always mean it, love," he said, and then Lilith, in the course of their act, smiled at him. She was sure it did not reach her eyes. Her smiles never did.

"I'm sorry, I'd really love to chat longer, but I can see Helen glaring at me. She probably wants me to help her welcome guests," said Arthur He waved to his wife, who had been standing at the other end of the room and who now joined them. "But I'm sure she would be delighted to introduce you to anyone you don't know. But then again, you probably know everyone here already!"

Helen Meighen - tall, bronzed, and gaunt - joined them, her eyes widening the moment her gaze seized upon Christopher. That gaze was hungry, and Lilith knew why. When she turned her eyes to Lilith and there was hatred there and Lilith knew the reason for that, too - it had been her machinations that had gotten rid of the woman It had not been six months since Lilith had, with a threat of revealing Helen's infidelity to Arthur, had dismissed Helen from a three-week tryst with Christopher.

"Still," said Christopher, his eyes alight as he searched the room. Lilith made an inventory of the people upon which Christopher's eye landed. "There are a few new faces here that I'm sure I'd like to meet."

"Then I'd be happy to show you," said Helen, leaning forward and grasping Christopher's hand. Lilith knew that Helen's attempt to woo Christopher was futile, as he was a creature easily bored - he never kept a favourite more than four weeks and he most certainly never took one back. Lilith was the only permanent member of Christopher's circle.

"Coming, darling?" asked Christopher, looking back at Lilith.

She knew her answer from the way his eyes flashed when they met hers. "No," she said. "I'll let Helen take care of you. I see a few familiar faces and I'll say hello to them from us."

Christopher's teeth were bared again in a smile and then was off with Helen. She made sure to keep a close eye on Christopher. She would watch, wait, and then, noting Christopher's prey, begin her careful studies.

"I don't understand," said Arthur. Lilith turned to him, seeing his face fall into a frown. "I wish I could get Helen to look at me the way you just looked at Christopher, or the way he looked at you. How on earth does your marriage stay so fucking successful?"

Lilith smiled, and her answer was genuine this time, a contrast with the falsity of her expression. "That's because we know what we want from one another. Our expectations are clear. We communicate well."

Arthur sighed and, with a grumble, excused himself.

Lilith lifted her head, brushed a hand over her dress, touched her ear in a lazy show of fixing an earring, and searched out someone to talk to. Immediately, she located people she and Christopher knew, friends of theirs, acquaintances of theirs, colleagues of Christopher's. He had a wide array of acquaintances though he often forgot their names - Christopher was excellent at remembering only what he wanted to - and Lilith had her choice of anyone she thought was appropriate to speak to.

She descended the stairs and selected Ms. Xu, an aging barrister Christopher had met some two years ago. The woman was tall, self-assured, wiry, and beautiful in a lithe sort of way. She was also so self-possessed that Christopher had never tried his luck with her.

"Lilith," said the woman, and kissed both her cheeks. Lilith smiled.

"Jiao," she replied. "How are you? How was your trip to Belize?"

And so it went. First it was Ms. Xu and questions and answers about Belize. Then the Talbots and an inquiry after the little Talbot twins, then Mr. Ongawe and questions about his recent expansion into uranium mining, then Mr. Trevor and his much younger wife and queries about their honeymoon. Lilith asked, listened, and noted. She gave answers about Christopher and a few about herself. She answered as little as possible.

Christopher came by only once to check on her, offer some questions of his own, and appear devotedly and consummately charming. He also ran one hand down her neck, and smiled at her.

Lilith excused herself once to the ladies', and that was two hours later. After three, she did so again, this time to inspect the composition of her face. She applied again a coat of lipstick, but could find no other fault and so went back to the party.

She had nearly exhausted those she had intended to talk to and was watching Christopher with three young men and Helen Meighen. As she rejoined the crowd, someone greeted her with an eager cry.

"Lilith Farrar, my dear girl!" declared a voice. It was a beautiful voice, full of rich inflection in its English lilt.

Lilith Farrar turned around and, with no smile at all - indicative of her trust in the owner of the voice, for how she would abandon her act in a public place for him - and said, "Good evening, your Lordship. How are you?"

The man before her smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. "You look simply fucking ravishing, my darling," he said, leaning forward and kissing her on both cheeks. "Might I be successful in propositioning you this time?"

"Henry, keep your voice down," she threatened.

"My dear darling girl, I am Lord Henry Needham, the Earl of Essex, and I will speak as loudly as I choose," he returned, his voice lofty and haughty.

Lilith gave him the full benefit of her contempt. "How have you been, Henry?" she asked.

"Dreadful. It has been too long since we have seen each other. I simply despise going so long without seeing my favourite person," he replied, cocking one black eyebrow and regarding her with his head tilted. His pretention was particularly evident when he was trying to woo. "How is Christopher, Lilith?"

"Very well," she said, in case anyone heard him.

"Oh, fuck this. Lilith, will you allow me to be dreadfully rude and shall monopolize your time?" asked Henry, holding out his arm.

Because she had no other work to do, Lilith slipped her arm through his and, side by side, they made their way through the crowd, up a wide, sweeping set of stairs, and onto a mezzanine that overlooked the assembled guests.

On the way, Henry snagged two glasses of champagne and handed one to Lilith.

"So, how is he?" asked Henry. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the long railing before them. Together, they watched Christopher. He seemed to have singled one of the men out of the group. They were talking closely. Christopher would never be so stupid as to touch someone other than Lilith in public where anyone else could see, but there was still a charge in the air between the two men.

"As he always is," said Lilith, inclining her head. "After a few hours of careful flirting, that young man will be helpless to resist Christopher's powers of seduction. No one can resist him when he puts his mind to it."

"And how is that?" asked Henry. He cocked his head, his heated gaze on her face. She had trained him too well, however, for him to try to come any closer to her. Lilith kept her distance from Henry.

"Christopher is a libertine by nature," observed Lilith. She turned her head to watch as Christopher seduced the young man with only his eyes, as he was deep in conversation with Helen Meighen. "And he becomes more devoted to that philosophy daily."

It was something Lilith could recognize without bitterness. Wicked or not, promiscuous or not, the man had a certain magnificence.

Henry nodded, taking a sip from his champagne. "And you only tell me this. Three people alone know of Christopher's true habits - him, you, and me, in my esteemed capacity as your one, true confidant?" His voice became mocking at the end, but he was not mocking Lilith.

"I confide in you because I choose to, and because I trust you," Lilith said. It was true.

"Not because you need companionship?" he said. He laid a hand on his heart and went on, with a harsh self-ironizing. "I am heartbroken."

Lilith ignored his statement. She did not care if he was heartbroken. It mattered little to her. After a moment of silence, Henry went on.

"But you must be so lonely, Lilith. All alone in that big house with no one to comfort you while your husband seduces everything on two legs," he said, jerking his head to where Christopher had one hand hovering over the arm of the young man.

"You mean I've no lover, Henry," said Lilith.

"Exactly. Why don't you get one, Lilith? It would be easy enough. You are ravishingly beautiful, shockingly intelligent, and singularly cunning. It would be a simple matter for you," he said, and Lilith noticed how his eyes wandered over her frame.

"It would serve no purpose," said Lilith, her tone absolutely serene. That sort of desire was something she did not admire. She admired in herself the mastery of her own flesh, and her singular claim to her body. Well, her nearly singular claim. "Licentiousness is Christopher's domain, not mine."

"Good God, you actually mean that," snorted Henry, staring at Lilith with a grudging wonderment in his eyes. By this time he, too, had finished his champagne and had handed the flute off. "You're so bloody chaste, Lilith. It's truly alarming how virginal you are, especially when compared to the conduct of your husband."

Lilith regarded Henry, crossing her arms and fixing him in a challenging gaze. "Is that a compliment or an insult, Henry?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, quirking his eyebrow and giving her a winsome and petulant glance. "But you'll take it as a compliment, I'm sure."

They paused for a moment, Lilith wondering whether Christopher's newest conquest would have a family member that might not want to know of the affair as Mr. Foster had, or if she would be forced to use a little more creativity.

"Do you have a cigarette?" she asked Henry without taking her eyes off Christopher. With a touch of his hand, one simply brush of his fingers against the young man's forearm, Christopher appeared to have drawn the creature even closer to him. That was a covert touch, and a secret one, and one of the rare ones Christopher risked.

Henry smiled. "Never go anywhere without them, my dear girl," he said. Reaching into his breast pocket, he removed a cigarette case, gold-plated, antique, and, as she knew, a gift from the Ambassador to the Russian Federation.

He handed her a cigarette and then, producing a lighter, lit Lilith's cigarette. As she leaned forward, bending the tip of the cigarette close to Henry's lighter, her eyes caught his. The flame from the lighter was reflected in his dark eyes. They were resting on her.

Henry smiled. Lilith turned her face away, though she could feel Henry's gaze on her, so intimate that she felt nearly naked with his eyes raking up and down her figure.

"You would make a magnificent countess," he observed, lifting his hand to stroke her arm. He did not actually touch her. He knew better than that.

"I am aware of that," he said, turning back to him and staring at him. She found a scrap of pleasure in noting how hungry his eyes were as they practically devoured her whole. "And if I were not married to Christopher, I have no doubt that I would have been the Countess of Essex by this time."

Henry gave a mournful laugh. "Then divorce him, Lilith, and marry me. You can be the Countess of Essex, my darling girl."

"No, Henry," she said. Henry proposed to her at least once every time they met, and propositioned her at least twice. "My job is ideal as it is."

"It gives you a station, if that's what you mean," snorted Henry.

Lilith did not smile. She took the cigarette from between her lips and placed it in Henry's mouth. "That is precisely what I mean," she said.

Henry, removing the cigarette from his mouth with a puff of smoke, sighed.

"You're cruel, Lilith," he accused her. But it was not anger in his voice that made it so sharp; rather, Lilith suspected, it was jealousy.

"Not cruel, Henry," she returned. "But simply practical."

"Oh, yes, practical, practical, always so practical. Can't you just spend five minutes with me without worrying about practicality? Is there anything else to you?" he said.

For his rudeness, Lilith gave him the phrase she knew would wound him the most deeply. "If you dislike me so much, then you're not obligated to continue seeing me."

Henry surged forward and took her hands in his. He had trespassed against that sovereign rule and she wrenched her hands out of his grasp as discreetly as she could.

"That's not what I mean, my darling girl," he said, and his dark eyes were wide and insistent as he pleaded. "But will I ever see the other side to my dear Lilith? The side that is capable of some sort of emotion?"

"What, am I some android, then?" she challenged. She turned about for him, watching as his hungry eyes devoured her frame. "Am I so devoid of human softness?"

"Yes," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth seemingly before he could stop them.

Lilith was not taken aback, nor offended. She was not surprised. That may have been how she appeared. She thought it less of an insult and more of a truth.

"I think Christopher would like me to leave - he seems to have found his prey. Will you make excuses for me? Then, if you want, you may discreetly follow me home," she said.

Now she was treated to a smile that curved over Henry's face. It was a smile full of roguish wit, the smile that, combined with his accent and all his English charm, made him so appealing.

"An excellent idea," he said. "I shall go tell our hostess you are not feeling well and that I, gentleman that I am, will escort you home."

"She'll be happy to see me go," said Lilith, unable to contain a smirk as she saw Helen standing with Arthur some distance away. "The woman despises me."

"Well, off you go and play your part," said Henry, waving one hand airily.

Lilith meandered off, taking her time before setting upon her husband. When she found Christopher, she tapped him on the elbow. He turned his head and greeted her with a dazzling smile.

"Lilith, darling!" he exclaimed, seeming genuinely happy to see her. Christopher was a skilled actor. Even his eyes glowed with what Lilith suspected was feigned pleasure at seeing her.

"Do you mind if I borrow him for a minute?" asked Lilith, shaping her features into a mask of polite, pleasant contrition. "I'll return him to you as soon as possible."

There were murmurs of assent, and a few admiring glances - and more than a few jealous ones - shot her way as she pulled Christopher to the side. The smile that she gave Christopher for the benefit of the guests that could still see her face did not match the coolness of her words.

"The man's name?" she asked.

Christopher's face fell. "Going home so soon, Lilith?" he asked, reaching out to brush her face with his knuckles.

"His name?" she pressed.

Christopher sighed. "Aidan Crowley," he said.

Lilith's eyes flickered to where the young man was standing, regarding her. She smiled at him when he looked nervous. Poor dear little fool. He would never forget Christopher or his beauty; Christopher would be hard-pressed to remember his name in a week.

"Good," she said, and nodded. "I'm going. You enjoy the party. I've said I'm not feeling well - that will be my excuse."

"Don't go," said Christopher, reaching out. When he had grasped her hand, he picked it up and stroked her skin with the pads of his fingers. "Stay for a little longer."

"Why?" she asked, removing her hand from his as tactfully as she could and still keep up the facade. "You've no need of me. I've made the rounds. Everything is as it should be."

Christopher gave a sigh. "Alright. Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home. A friend of mine wants to visit," said Lilith. She cast a gaze out over the crowd until she found Henry's long frame leaning against a pillar, looking apprehensive.

"A friend? A male friend?" asked Christopher. His eyes lit up and he smirked. "Are you-"

"Henry," said Lilith.

"As you say, my darling," said Christopher. Lilith watched as he shot a glance at Henry. "Have fun or whatever you do with his Lordship." He sneered the title and Lilith knew why - Christopher despised Henry.

"Thank you," said Lilith. And then, for the benefit of the guests, who were beginning to stare, obviously impatient for Christopher's return, she leaned up and kissed him just as passionately as the circumstance would allow.

With Christopher's tongue in her mouth, she counted seconds in her head.

One. That was barely a kiss. Leaving with a one-second kiss would mean the assembled guests would think there was serious trouble between them. Two. That was better, but still lacking in ardour. Three. Good. But not quite long enough. Four. After four, she drew back. Four seconds was perfect. Long enough to be passionate and ardent, but five would have bordered on vulgar.

"Goodbye," she said, and patted his cheek. He let her go, a wistful look in his eyes the feigning of which was no doubt convincing for the benefit of those watching him. Liith credited Christopher at least that far - in terms of his charm, he could be replied upon And then, turning his back, he made his way back to the group.

Lilith watched, satisfied as she saw Mr. Crowley edge towards Christopher. Lilith wondered how long it would be before the man was whimpering with suppressed lust; the way he held his hands before him suggested he was aroused even by Christopher's covert flirtation.

Lilith did not wait for Henry. She did not look at him when she passed. They made their way out, he following at a covert distance. When Simon brought along the hovercraft, Lilith flew only as far as the nearest landing pad. Then she sent him back with an instruction to wait for Mr. Farrar and his guest.

After a moment, she spotted Henry's hovercraft. It landed and then, accepting aid from one of Henry's androids, she settled back into the warm leather seat beside Henry.

"Mrs. Farrar's residence," said Henry, and the two of them sped off into the night.

Lilith sighed. When Henry had gone, likely after having a few glasses of Christopher's Lagavulin, she would look up Aidan Crowley and then, like always, formulate a plan for his disposal.

She cocked her head as she saw Henry look over at her. "All is well, Henry," she said.

He quirked her a smile, all charm and bright wit, and patted her knee.