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man to absorb all at once. Sinjin slumped in his chair, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This isn’t just a story, is it?”

      “Do you think I’m a liar, Sinjin?”

      “Good God, no.” He raised his head. “Who in hell is he?”

      Mariah released her breath. As miraculous as it seemed, he believed her. Or at least he was doing a very good job of pretending.

      “I don’t know,” she said. “When I first found him, he couldn’t speak. And though he has regained the power of conversation, he doesn’t know his name.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Just that. It is as if he suffers from a form of amnesia. He was in a very poor state when I found him, with only stale water and no food.”

      “Good God,” Sinjin repeated. He glared down at the crease in his trousers, his expression dark as storm clouds. “What does this fellow remember?”

      “Very little,” she said. “He has obviously suffered some sort of shock, but he is a gentleman, that much is clear.”

      “A gentleman?”

      “Yes, though it might not appear so at first. His speech, his manner …”

      “This is beyond anything.”

      “I know.”

      He remained deep in thought for several tense minutes. “How did you come to find this man, Mariah?”

      “I saw a stranger lurking about the folly and found a key to an inner chamber. That is where I discovered the cage.” She braced herself. “There is something else, Sinjin. This man … The prisoner looks almost exactly like Donnington.”

      “What?”

      “Except for the color of his hair, he could be Donnington’s twin.”

      Sinjin muttered something under his breath. “Are you quite certain all this wasn’t a dream?”

      The chair seemed to lurch under her. “I can see that it was a mistake to come here. I shall take my leave.”

      “Merry, I—” He stared into her eyes. “Good God. You’re as white as a sheet. I’ll ring for a glass of—”

      “I’m all right.” Mariah sat very straight and gazed at him earnestly. “What I have said is no exaggeration. I felt it was necessary to prepare you.” She hesitated. Should I tell you that he not only looks like Donnington, but blames your brother for his imprisonment?

      She had no choice. But that could wait until tonight … if Sinjin agreed to come.

      “Did you or did you not mean it when you said I could count on you?” she asked.

      “Of course I meant it,” he said, though his usual aplomb had deserted him completely. “You haven’t spoken of this to anyone else?”

      “I did question one of the maids regarding rumors related to a captive somewhere on the grounds.”

      “Rumors? You’d already heard about this?”

      “Not at all, but I thought if anyone would know.” She hesitated. “She confirmed that she’d heard stories of someone being held at Donbridge.”

      “For God’s sake!” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard a word of this, and I can scarce credit—” He broke off. “A man who looks like Donnington. Did this maid say who is supposed to have committed this … this offense?”

      “No.”

      “But you have a theory.”

      “I’ll tell you what little I know tonight.”

      Sinjin didn’t press her. He rose and walked to the sideboard, where he picked up a glass and set it down again. “The proof is in the pudding,” he said grimly. “When shall I meet this … gentleman?”

      Her heart resumed its normal rhythm. “Come to Donbridge,” she said, “but secretly. I don’t want to alert anyone who might have taken part in this.” She hurried on before he could interrupt. “Meet me at eleven tonight, by the folly. I’ll show you everything, and then we can decide what we ought to do.”

      “Why do I think you’re about to get me into a situation I’m going to regret?”

      “Will you do it?”

      “Of course I will.”

      Once again he offered refreshments and tea, but she declined and hurried away. If she were very lucky, there would be time to speak to Ash and prepare him for the visit of another stranger.

      But once she got back to Donbridge, the opportunity never arose. The dowager, uncharacteristically attentive in spite of her usual hostility, made it impossible for Mariah to slip away from the house until after dinner. It was gone ten when the dowager finally retired. Mariah waited for another half hour, made certain the house was quiet, and then put on her simplest dress, a shawl and half-boots. She was halfway down the stairs when Nola appeared out of the shadows.

      “Nola!” Mariah hid the pillowcase of newly hoarded food behind her back, though she knew she had little hope of keeping it concealed for long. Nola curtseyed, her face wreathed in concern.

      “Begging your pardon, Countess,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

      “You didn’t. I was just going down to the kitchen. Why are you up and about so late?”

      “I … I thought you might need help, your ladyship.”

      “Help, Nola? I can find my way to the kitchen by myself.”

      “I was just remembering what you told me, your ladyship,” she said. “About the prisoner and all.”

      “I’m afraid my imagination ran away with me,” Mariah said with a strained smile. “You needn’t give it another thought.”

      The maid bent her head, peering at the level of Mariah’s hip where the pillowcase protruded from behind her skirts. “You’re going to see him, your ladyship?”

      Mariah began to feel that the girl might prove to be every bit as difficult now as she had been helpful before. “What makes you think I’m going to see anyone, Nola?”

      “Just a feeling, your ladyship.”

      A feeling. Mariah suppressed a shiver. “Is there something you haven’t told me? Something about the subject we discussed yesterday?”

      “No, ma’am.”

      “Then what I do is really none of your business,” Mariah said, more harshly than she’d intended. She immediately regretted it.

      “I know your intentions are good,” she said, “but I’m really just trying to find out what’s going on. It would be better if no one else were involved.”

      “But I saw Mr. Ware, your ladyship,” Nola said. “Out in the park.”

      Nola’s tone was anything but sly, yet Mariah was very much on her guard. “And why were you creeping about outside, Nola?”

      “I often go for walks at night, though Mrs. Baines doesn’t approve.” She performed another curtsey, which worked well to hide her expression. “I’m sorry, your ladyship.”

      “I should avoid annoying Mrs. Baines, if I were you. As for Mr. Ware, he is known to do just as he wishes. Our grounds are considerably larger than his and have excellent prospects by moonlight. There is a full moon tonight. Perhaps he had an urge to view it.”

      “Yes, ma’am. But.” Nola dropped her voice very low. “I could make sure she doesn’t see you.”

      Mariah froze. Was that what the girl’s interference was all about? Did she—did all the servants—know what the dowager

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