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“I believe,” James said slowly, his eyes on her mouth, “that I want to know exactly what you’re thinking.”

At that moment, Willicombe ran into the room. “My lord, Master Jason, come quickly! Quickly!”

Corrie beat all of them out of the drawing room. She ran through the open front door, stopped short on the top step, and stared.

There was her soon-to-be father-in-law standing over an unconscious man wrapped in a huge black cloak, rubbing his fist, Remie standing near, his right foot planted on the back of another man, this one burly and unkempt, who was moaning and twitching.

Douglas looked up and gri

James and Jason ran to their father and Remie, and stared down at the two men. James said, “Who are these men, sir? Do you know them?”

“Oh no,” Douglas said cheerfully. “Remie spotted them lurking across the square.”

“Aye,” said Remie. “His lordship decided we’d let them come to us, which they did, the bloody fools. Your father thinks we’ll have a nice chat when the bastards get their brains working again.” He kicked the man, who moaned again, shuddered, then didn’t move.

Douglas leaned down and hauled the man he’d flattened to his feet. He slapped his face, once, twice, shook him. “Come on, open your eyes and look me in the face.” He shook him again.

There was a sudden blur of movement. Without thought, Jason knocked Remie out of the way, kicked out with his foot and knocked the gun out of the man’s hand who’d just come around a bush, that gun aimed at the earl. He grabbed the man’s hair, lifted his head, and sent his fist into his jaw.

He looked up at his father. “He came very fast. That makes three of them now. James, are these three the same men who kidnapped you?”

James shook his head. “I’ve never seen these three before.”

The man Douglas still had about the neck said in a whine that made Corrie want to kick him, “We ain’t meant nothin’, milord, jess wanted to snag a couple of groats.”

Remie said as he dusted off his livery, “I think I would like to speak to these two, my lord, maybe open up their heads a little, see what falls out.”

“We’ll both do it, Remie.”

A boy’s voice said from behind Judith, “I seen ’em, milord, speaking to a cove, er, man, over on the other side of the square. A big man, wot was, er, were wearing a hat and a greatcoat.”

James turned to Freddie, whose English had improved within the past week, although he’d heard the boy muttering that “wot were wrong wi’ the way I speaks anyways,” when he’d been informed that he was going to be educated. It was Willicombe who taught Freddie two hours a day.

“Well done, Freddie. Let’s you and I go over to where you spotted this man and see if we can find any clues.”

“Lawks,” said Freddie, and patted his trousers, straightened his sleeve, presented James a proud pose in his beautiful new livery. “Let’s be off then, my lord. We’ll find somethin’, er, something.”

“Yes, hurry, both of you,” the earl said. “Now, I think these two fine specimens should spend some time in our stable, if you don’t think they’ll upset the horses.”

Remie and Jason bore the men off, and Douglas went in to write a note to Lord Gray, a gentleman he knew in Bow Street.

As for Corrie and Judith, they watched Jason and Remie haul the three men away. “This,” Judith said quietly, “isn’t what I pla

“No,” Corrie said. “Do you know, Judith, maybe you and I should spend some time with these fellows as well.”

“You mean if the gentlemen don’t glean any information from them?”





“Exactly.” And Corrie cracked her knuckles, something she hadn’t done since she was ten years old.

Judith laughed, shaded her eyes with her hand, and said, “I wonder if James and Freddie will find anything. Who is that boy, Corrie? Isn’t he a bit young to be employed by the earl?”

“Freddie is very special,” Corrie said. “Very special indeed. Did you hear how much better he speaks?”

“You’re teaching him to speak proper English?”

“Actually, it’s Willicombe,” Corrie said. “I daresay that the earl would do about anything for Freddie.” She smiled at Judith. “We can come back this afternoon, perhaps have our own little talk with those two villains.” And that was what Corrie told the earl just ten minutes later. “My lord, I think you should reconsider calling in Bow Street. Let me go question these men. I know I can convince them to talk to me.”

Judith nodded, eyes narrowed, nearly growling. “I should like to pry their mouths open as well, my lord.”

Douglas looked at the two young ladies, whom, he suspected, had as much guts as his wife, and said slowly, “Perhaps this note to Lord Gray can wait for a while. Yes, let us try to break them first.”

Willicombe, however, was dead set against this. Indeed, he stood in the entrance hall, six feet from the front door, so pale he looked dead.

He was breathing so fast, Corrie was afraid he would faint. She stepped up to him and slapped him hard.

“Ah, oh goodness, a hit in the chops by a young lady.” Willicombe said on a moan. “But since the aforementioned young lady rescued one of our boys, I suppose that-” He stopped, drew a deep steadying breath, and said, “Thank you, Miss Corrie. I think I shall have a nutty bun if there is one left.”

And he tottered off.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“ HE RAN LIKE a young man,” James said to his father, Freddie nodding vigorously at his right elbow.

“A young man,” Douglas repeated. “Yet again he comes, this son of Georges Cadoudal.” He looked at his son. “Why, James? Why?”

“When we get him, we will find out. Everyone is looking for him, Father. It won’t be long now.” James pointed across the park. “He hurled himself into a hackney and the driver whipped the horses up, fast. We had no chance to catch him.”

“Well, we have three of his men. I’ve decided that we’ll let Corrie and Judith speak to them tomorrow.” He smiled at James’s look of utter horror. “The young ladies claim they will make the villains tell us all. But now, let’s try our hand at breaking them.”

James rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do it. Freddie, go fetch Master Jason, tell him we’re going to have a chat with our villains.”

Douglas said, “If none of us has any luck, I will send off my note to Lord Gray. He can send one of his men here to take them away. At least they won’t be of any further use to Georges’s son.”

Two hours later, Douglas had to admit defeat. The men were being paid extremely well to keep their mouths seamed. Indeed, it was more than money, James thought, since he’d offered them five hundred pounds and been refused. There was real fear in their eyes. They simply said over and over that they didn’t know nothin’, that they’d just wanted to snag the rich bloke’s purse, no, no, they didn’t know any cove what called hisself Douglas Sherbrooke-a young man? No, they knew no young men. And on and on it went until Douglas called a halt. James and Jason wanted to bash their heads together, but Douglas allowed that he didn’t want two dead men buried in his stables. He would turn them over to Bow Street, let Lord Gray’s men bust heads and bury them in gaol.

All three men were depressed, but were forced to smile because Alexandra had invited Lady Arbuckle and Judith as well as Lord and Lady Montague and Corrie to dine with them that evening. Her reason, she admitted to her husband, after he’d nibbled on her neck, forgetting for a good long while that he was supposed to be fastening her ruby necklace, was to see the two young ladies with her sons.

“I want to observe how they treat each other, how they behave with their relatives, and with us.”

“You’ve known Simon, Maybella, and Corrie forever. You know how they relate to us.”