Gabriel chained his anger and sense of unease. "Forgive me, my dear. I don't mean to alarm you." He reached down and scooped her up in his arms. He set her on her feet beside the bed and turned back the quilt. "Let us get some sleep. In the morning I shall set Stinton to investigating the mysterious Alice."

"What about me?" Phoebe asked as she obediently scrambled into bed. "I thought you intended to have Stinton follow me around."

"He cannot be in two places at once."

Phoebe's eyes brightened. "Does this mean you have decided to trust me, after all? You no longer believe you need someone to keep an eye on me?"

"It means," Gabriel said as he blew out the candle and got in beside her, "that you will not need anyone to follow you about tomorrow because you are not going anywhere."

She stilled, eyes widening in the shadows. "You cannot mean that, my lord. I have engagements tomorrow. I am going to visit my sister."

"Your sister can come here to visit you." Gabriel reached for her. "You are not going anywhere until this matter is settled."

"Anywhere at all? Gabriel, you simply cannot do this."

"I can and I will. I realize the concept of obedience to anyone, let alone your poor husband, is quite foreign to you. But in this matter I intend to be obeyed." Gabriel felt her whole body stiffen in reaction. He tried to soften his tone, willing her to understand. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot take any chances. You must stay here in the house unless I am free to escort you or unless Stinton is available."

Phoebe struggled to sit up. "My lord, I refuse to be kept a prisoner in my own home."

Gabriel pressed her down into the bedding and came down on top of her. She wriggled angrily until he threw a heavy leg over her thighs and captured her defiant face in his hands.

"Be still, Phoebe," he said gently. "This is not another exciting adventure you are having. This is a very dangerous situation. You will be guided by me."

"Why should I be guided by you?"

"Because I am your husband. And because I know a great deal more about this kind of thing than you do."

She glared defiantly up at him, searching his eyes, testing his strength of will. He stayed silent, praying she would submit.

The struggle for the upper hand lasted only a moment or two and then it was over. Phoebe relaxed beneath him and Gabriel knew he had won. For now, at least. His sense of relief was almost overwhelming.

"There are times, my lord, when I find this business of marriage extremely irritating," Phoebe said.

"I know you do," Gabriel whispered.

She was not happy with her own acquiescence, Gabriel realized. Moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the resentment in her eyes.

He was suddenly reminded of the first time he had seen her features revealed by moonlight. That night on the lonely lane in Sussex he had lifted her veil, taken one look at her shocked, defiant face, and he had known he wanted her. Something in him had known that he would stop at nothing to make her his own.

Kudeo. I dare.

Now she was his. But she was so very vulnerable and so very impulsive. He had to protect her because he could not trust her to protect herself.

"My God, Phoebe," he said against her mouth.

"You do not know what you do to me. I swear I do not comprehend it myself. But I do know that you are mine and I will do whatever I must to keep you safe." He crushed her lips beneath his own, drinking in the essence of her, trying to capture her soul as well as her sweet body. After a moment Phoebe made a soft little sound and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What the devil is going on?" Anthony grabbed the bottle of claret off the end table and poured himself a glass. He glowered at Gabriel as he dropped into a chair across from him.

"Keep your voice down." Gabriel flicked a meaningful glance around the club room. It was still early in the afternoon and the club was only sparsely populated as of yet, but one or two of the members were standing close enough to overhear a loud conversation. "I do not particularly wish to announce my affairs to the world."

Anthony subsided in annoyance. "Very well," he said, lowering his voice, "tell me what this is all about. Why the urgent summons?"

"Someone is trying to hurt or, at the very least, terrify Phoebe." Someone might even be trying to kill her, Gabriel added silently. But he could not bring himself to say the words aloud.

"Good God." Anthony stared, thunderstruck. "Are you certain?"

"As certain as I can be."

"Who is it? I'll kill him."

"I'm afraid you must wait your turn. I have first claim on that pleasure. As it happens, I believe the person directly responsible is a woman named Alice. She is either mad or a member of the criminal class who has some acting talent. She was able to pass herself off to Phoebe as a housemaid. I believe there is a strong possibility that Neil Baxter is involved." He briefly summarized events.

Anthony listened in fulminating silence. When Gabriel finished, he nearly exploded. "Goddamn it, man, Baxter is supposed to be dead. You assured us he was."

"Believe me, I am vastly more disappointed than you are that he is not."

"What the devil are you going to do about him?"

"Get rid of him again," Gabriel said. "But this time I intend to make certain he stays out of my way in future."

Anthony's eyes narrowed. "He truly is a cutthroat?"

"I was told by some of the survivors on my ship that he even seemed to enjoy the business of cutting throats."

"Why the attacks on Phoebe?"

"I believe they are Baxter's way of taunting me."

"Why is he using this Alice person?" Anthony persisted.

"Perhaps so that there will be no proof that he is behind the attacks." Gabriel frowned, thinking it through. "If anyone is caught, it will be her. If she is truly mad, she will not be able to point the finger of blame at Baxter. If she is a professional villain and chooses to confess, her word will not mean much against Baxter's."

"Perhaps she does not even know Baxter's identity," Anthony said slowly. "He might have hired her to do his dirty work without letting her know who he was."

Gabriel nodded. "Possible. But I am going to try to find out if there is a connection between the two."

"How will you do that?"

Gabriel leaned forward and lowered his voice even further. "I am having a Runner look into it. I have instructed him to find out if Baxter has a mistress or some connection to the criminal class."

Anthony studied him for a moment. "If you cannot prove Baxter is behind these acts of violence against Phoebe, what will you do?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I would prefer to be able to prove that Baxter is causing the trouble, if only to convince Phoebe that he is not the Sir Lancelot she believes him to be. But one way or another, I shall have to get rid of Baxter. In the end I may be obliged to do it without being able to prove what I know to be true."

"Phoebe will want proof. She does not turn on old friends easily. She is very loyal."

"I know." Gabriel kept his face expressionless with effort. "But Baxter is potentially too dangerous to be allowed to hang around her much longer. He is fully capable of charming an innocent such as Phoebe. Out in the islands he seduced more than one wife into telling him her husband's business secrets. And more than one mistress into betraying her lover's plans."

Anthony arched a brow. "Your mistress, perhaps?"

"Not exactly. She was the woman to whom I was engaged," Gabriel said quietly. "She was the daughter of one of my partners. Her name was Honora. Ironic, is it not? If ever a woman had less sense of honor than Honora Ralston, I have not had the misfortune to meet her."

"She gave information to Baxter?"

"He made himself her lover. Convinced her I was a dangerous pirate masquerading as a legitimate businessman. He said he was trying to trap me."