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was whip smart, cool under pressure and able to follow almost anyone without being noticed. He was also a wizard at picking pockets, having spent his early years on the streets, but that was a practice he had given up since he came to work for the Morelands. Though only a few years older than Con and Alex, Tom had been their mentor in subjects that were far more interesting to them than Ancient Greek or Philosophy.

      Tom was appropriately incensed by Con’s story of the ladies’ kidnapping and rescue, though he had some reservations. “A key? You think they kidnapped your mum and sisters for a key?”

      “Yes. I know it’s odd.”

      Tom snorted. “That’s true of anything connected with you lot. But a key is a small thing to risk prison for, and a parasol seems a flimsy clue.”

      “Perhaps, but it’s the only one I have at the moment. Since Sabrina and Alex are off on their honeymoon, we can’t ask her about it. But she is the heiress to her father’s substantial estate, and she’s already had Niles Dearborn and his son trying to get their hands on her money.”

      “Then you think it’s the Dearborns.”

      “We know they’re cheats and liars.” Con ticked his points off on his fingers. “We know they still have a great many financial woes. They will resort to any method to get their hands on money. And they have twice abducted people.”

      “You’ve convinced me. But do you have any proof?”

      “No,” Con admitted. “That’s why I’m going to pay a visit to the Dearborns this morning. Care to come along?”

      Tom’s ready grin was answer enough.

      The footman who opened the Dearborns’ door blanched at the sight of Con on the doorstep, but he quickly ushered them into Niles Dearborn’s study. As they followed the man down the hall, Tom murmured, “I’d say that fellow remembers you.”

      “Is he the one I shoved aside?”

      “You mean the one you punched? Yes, I think so.”

      Niles Dearborn looked equally alarmed when Con strode in on his servant’s heels. He shot to his feet, sending a glare at the hapless footman. “What are you doing here, Moreland? You can’t just barge in here.”

      “Apparently I can,” Con returned.

      “I told that maniac you sent over here yesterday that I had nothing to do with his wife’s disappearance.”

      “Leave my father alone.” Niles’s son, Peter, hurried into the room. “Why can’t you leave us alone?”

      “Because you came after my brother’s wife again.”

      “McIntyre said nothing about Sabrina,” Niles protested. “He said it was the duke’s wife and daughters.”

      “Is Sabrina all right?” Peter asked. “What happened to her?”

      “Nothing, for which you should be very grateful. The ladies are back, and your men are in jail. You might worry what information they’ll give up about you.”

      “We don’t have any men!” Niles barked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

      “Why would we kidnap your family?” Peter said reasonably. “Or Sabrina?”

      “The same reason most kidnappers do,” Con answered. “Money. Or perhaps you just wanted a key.”

      Both men gaped at him. “The key?” Niles asked.

      “Her key?” Peter said at the same moment. The two men exchanged a glance.

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Niles blustered. “Why would I want some key?”

      “I don’t know.” Con’s eyes narrowed. “But I think you do.”

      “Nonsense. We had nothing to do with any kidnapping, and I’m not looking for a key. Now, I’ll thank you to get out of my house.”

      “Gladly,” Con responded. “But before I go, let me remind you what Alex told you last time. If you try to harm Sabrina or anyone in his family, he’ll come after you. And he won’t be alone. You understand? Stay away from my family.”

      As soon as they stepped outside, Tom said, “He knew what you were talking about. I’d swear it. When you mentioned the key, there was a flash of something in his eyes.”

      “Yes. Until then, I was beginning to wonder if he was telling the truth. But it’s clear we won’t get any more information out of them. He knows we have no proof.”

      “What are you going to do, then?”

      “I’m going to call on someone who knows the Dearborns and Sabrina very well.”

      “DEAR, DON’T YOU think you ought to change?” Aunt Helena asked.

      Surprised, Lilah looked up from her book. “I thought you had decided not to make calls this afternoon.” She had looked forward to an afternoon spent in quiet comfort, reading.

      “That’s no reason to lounge about looking like that. Why, I don’t believe you’re wearing a corset.”

      “No,” Lilah admitted. She had put on the loose sacque dress because it didn’t require stays. She was a little bruised and sore from the constriction of the stiff corset during all the activity yesterday. “But there is no one here to see.”

      “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Aunt Helena said with a twinkle. “Your uncle mentioned that Sir Jasper might come to call, remember? And yesterday Mr. Tilden was very disappointed to find you not at home. I shouldn’t be surprised if that young man wasn’t on our doorstep again.”

      “Aunt Helena…I wish you would not encourage Mr. Tilden.”

      “Whyever not? He’s a presentable young man. He has a tidy little fortune. He’s amiable and educated—I have heard the two of you discussing Shakespeare.”

      “Only because he was shocked I had read the actual plays and not a bowdlerized version.”

      Her aunt frowned. “I’m still not sure it was wise for your academy to allow those plays around impressionable young girls. Not everyone has your strength of mind and moral certitude.” Aunt Helena began to go through Lilah’s wardrobe. “What about this russet silk moire? It’s so pretty with your hair. These puffed sleeves are elegant.”

      Lilah sighed at the thought of climbing back into all those clothes—the small bustle in back, the corset to achieve the proper wasp waist, the boned sleeve supports to fill out the puffed sleeves, not to mention the petticoats and, over it all, the bodice and skirt. It was rather like donning armor. Social armor. But it was a lovely dress, and of course she couldn’t receive guests in this softly draped morning gown.

      “Yes, that will do nicely,” she said and rang for her maid.

      “If you haven’t a preference for Mr. Tilden, there’s always Sir Jasper,” Aunt Helena said. “I think he’s close to offering.” So did Lilah; that was the problem. “He seems quite enamored of you.”

      “He’s enamored of getting his hands on the estate my father left me.”

      “Lilah! What a thing to say. Sir Jasper isn’t a fortune hunter. Your father left him that land in Yorkshire to go with the title, and I understand he has a nice income besides. In any case, it would be suitable to have the family seat and the title joined again. I never understood exactly why your father left the house to you instead of passing it with the title.”

      “Because I am his daughter. He wanted to leave me independent,” Lilah said with some exasperation. “Because it was his home and he loved it. He didn’t want to leave it to a man who was little more than a stranger. And since it wasn’t entailed, he was free to do with it as he wished.”

      “Of course he wanted to provide for you, but

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