French brandy into Lord Ramey's hand. Since Grayson had been the one to lose his daughter, he hoped this would begin his redemption in her father's eyes. It was particularly fine brandy, and Uncle Douglas's favorite.

At Uncle Douglas's request, Sir Robert Peel appeared some thirty minutes after the reunion to question Miss Kilbourne, who was reclining gracefully on a pale blue brocade chaise, a lovely shawl spread over her legs, a dainty cup of hot tea in her hand, Grayson standing behind her, his hand on her shoulder. Since Grayson had wisely told her he was impressed by her wonderful bravery, despite her mother's and sisters' tears Lorelei didn't hesitate when she spoke. "I feared Mr. Sherbrooke was dead since one of those brutal men struck him so very hard on the head. I fought them, Sir Robert, but they were stronger and one of them picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He carried me to a carriage hidden in a nasty alley and threw me inside onto the floor. One man climax in and gagged me and tied my hands behind my back. He didn't say anything to me, just sort of grunted, as if satisfied he'd done a good job. The door slammed and the other man whipped up the horses.

"Perhaps fifteen minutes later the carriage stopped and one of the men opened the carriage door"-here she looked up at Grayson, who nodded encouragement at her-"but before I could do anything, he pulled the gag out of my mouth and pressed a handkerchief over my face. I breathed in a sickly sweet odor. I suppose I must have become unconscious, for I do not remember anything more.

"When I woke up I was lying on the carriage seat. My head ached, and I felt all logy, as if my legs were too heavy to move. Then the carriage stopped and one of the men opened the door and dragged me out. He tossed me on the doorstep. I looked up to see them driving away very fast. I kicked the door so someone would come. Willicombe untied my hands and helped me up."

Sir Robert Peel, blessed with a judge's unhanding shoulders and beautifully dressed all in gray, nodded slowly at the pretty young girl and looked wise, which he was. "That was very well stated, Miss Kilbourne. Did you notice anything distinctive about the men who took you, or the carriage?"

Lorelei thought about this. "The men were toughs, the sort you see lurking around the tavern in our village at home, dirty clothes and mean eyes, as though they'd rip out your gullet and not regret it for a moment."

"They didn't call each other by name or say anything at all?"

"I heard one of them say he hoped the young lad hadn't croaked it since the other man had struck him so hard, and they hadn't been paid to croak anyone." She paused. "The carriage had some sort of crest on the door, Sir Robert. It was as if the men had tried to cover it with a cloth, but it had gone askew and I saw-" She put her hands to her head and pressed.

Her mother, with a moan, rose to go to her, but Sir Robert forestalled her, and she sat again. He said, "You are doing fine. Miss Kilbourne. Think about it for a moment." And he gave Lady Ramey a charming smile and a small shake of the head. He said to Lord Ramey, "You must be very proud of your daughter, my lord. She is no fainting miss."

The other four daughters eyed each other, then their sister, then straightened their shoulders and tried to look competent. Since the youngest daughter, Alice, was no more than thirteen, Rosalind was impressed.

If Lorelei had considered fainting, she didn't consider it now. Grayson had taken her hand and was lightly rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "The crest," Grayson said. "Were there colors, shapes, you can remember?"

"I saw the door for only a very brief moment," she said, "but yes, I could make out the legs of a lion, I think, standing upright, and there was the lower part of a red circle and a band of gold around it. It was as if the lion were holding up the world. I'm sorry, that's all I can remember."

"They bound and gagged you but they didn't hurt you? Didn't threaten you? Gave you no idea that they were kidnapping you for ransom?"

"No. They cursed a lot, particularly when I bit one man's hand, but he didn't hit me or speak, just cursed. And after they put that handkerchief against my nose, I have no memory of anything."

Sir Robert took his leave, well aware that more was going on in the Sherbrooke drawing room than anyone would ever tell him. It was another fifteen minutes before the Kilbourne women took their leave, Lady Ramey's daughters now supporting her since Lorelei seemed just fine.

Lord Ramey, after drinking three snifters of the earl's magnificent brandy, was still giving Grayson accusing looks for losing his daughter. However, a date was made for the following day, should Grayson feel up to it. No doubt about that, Rosalind thought, given his fatuous smile at Lorelei.

The drawing room was silent when the front door closed behind Lord Ramey.

It was Grayson who finally said aloud what everyone was thinking. "The men made a mistake. There is no doubt in my mind those men believed Lorelei was Rosalind."

Ryder said, "They drove for fifteen minutes, so Miss Kilbourne believed, drugged her with the chloroform-soaked handkerchief, and obviously took her into a house where those who wanted Rosalind were waiting. They saw it wasn't Rosalind and didn't kill Lorelei. Whoever it was balked at the murder of an innocent. That is something at least. They sent her back."

Rosalind was sitting next to Grayson, speaking low, when she heard Uncle Douglas say, "Where is Nicholas?"

But Nicholas wasn't there. He was gone.

Lee Po pulled up Grace and Leopold in front of a well-tended redbrick Georgian town house at 14 Epson Square. As he walked up the steps to the front door, Nicholas said over his shoulder, "No, don't argue with me, Lee. I want you to tool the grays around the square. Don't worry about me, I know what I'm about. I shouldn't be long."

Lee Po didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do. He knew who lived in this house.

Nicholas hadn't been inside the town house since he was a small boy-namely, at his father's wedding to Miranda Carstairs, youngest child of Baron Carstairs, barely five months after Nicholas's mother had died.

His knock was answered by a pallid, furtive-looking young man, his hair so blond it appeared white in the dim light of the entrance hall.

"Yes?" A very suspicious voice, Nicholas thought, and handed him his card, then watched him look at it and give a nervous start. That's right, you little bugger, he thought, I'm here.

He said in a quiet voice, "I wish to see my half brothers, one or all of them. Now."

"Ah, my lord, allow me to see if Master Richard is available." The butler led Nicholas into a drawing room he remembered reeking of attar of roses, his father's new wife's scent. He hated the smell to this day.

The walls were oak paneled, the cornices classical, the fireplace ornate, and the furniture light and airy, making the drawing room feel more spacious than it actually was. Like the outside of the house, it was well tended. It required quite a lot of money to maintain this property, Nicholas knew; he wondered how deep his brothers' pockets were. He looked for any sign that Lorelei had been in this room, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

He turned when the door opened and his half brother Richard strolled in, looking quite elegant in dark brown trousers and a waistcoat of brown and cream stripes. His coat was dark brown velvet. He looked quite fine and indolent, a young gentleman with nothing more on his mind than his evening's entertainment. Ah, but in his dark eyes: wariness. No, even more, Nicholas could see he was alarmed.

In his cultivated bored voice, Richard said, "Well, well, if it isn't a Vail I never expected to see here. What do you want?"