"My thoughts are always on my face," Bryan answered, with a grin. "It's why I'd never make it in your line of work," he added.

Bryan held the door of the carriage open for Lyon. He waited until the Marquess was about to close the door behind him before calling out his ritual farewell. "Guard your back, my friend." On the spur of the moment, he included another caution. "And your heart, Lyon. Don't let any pretties throw you overboard."

That suggestion had come a little too late, to Lyon 's way of thinking. Christina had already caught him off guard. He'd vowed long ago not to get emotionally involved with another woman for as long as he lived. He was going to keep his relationships short and sweet.

So much for that vow, Lyon thought with a sigh. He couldn't guard his heart now. It already belonged to her.

His mind returned to the puzzle of Christina's bizarre remarks. He remembered she'd told him that his curiosity could get him killed. Was she lying or was she serious? Lyon couldn't decide.

Christina had been truthful when she announced she wasn't going to stay in London long, that she meant to return home. At least she looked like she was telling the truth.

He wasn't about to let her go anywhere. Christina was going to belong to him. But he wasn't taking any chances. If she did manage to get away from him, his job of hunting her down would be much easier if he knew exactly where her home was.

"She isn't going anywhere," Lyon muttered to himself. No, he wasn't going to let her out of his sight.

With a growl of new frustration, Lyon accepted the truth. There was only one way he could keep Christina by his side.

Hell, he was going to have to marry her.

"Where in God's name have you been? I've been sitting in your library for hours."

Rhone bellowed the question as soon as Lyon strode into the foyer of his townhouse. "I have messengers searching the town for you, Lyon."

"I wasn't aware I had to account to you, Rhone," Lyon answered. He threw off his jacket and walked into the study. "Shut the door, Rhone. What do you think you're doing? You shouldn't be out in public. Someone might notice the bandage. You took a needless chance. Your man would have found me soon enough."

"Well, where have you been? It's almost dark outside," Rhone muttered. He collapsed in the first available chair.

"You're beginning to sound like a nagging wife," Lyon said with a chuckle. "What's the problem? Is your father having more difficulties?"

"No, and you sure as hell won't be laughing when I tell you why I've been looking all over London for you. Better put your jacket back on, my friend. You've work to do."

The seriousness in Rhone 's tone gained Lyon 's complete attention. He leaned against the desk top, folded his arms across his chest, and said, "Explain yourself."

"It's Christina, Lyon. She's in trouble."

Lyon reacted as though he'd just been hit by lightning. He bounded away from the desk and had Rhone by his shoulders before his friend could take a new breath. "There's still plenty of time, Lyon. I was just worried you might have taken off for your country home. We've got until midnight before they come after her… for God's sake, man, unhand me."

Lyon immediately let Rhone fall back into his chair. "Who are they?" he demanded.

His expression had turned deadly. Rhone was immensely thankful Lyon was his friend and not his enemy. "Splickler and some men he hired."

Lyon gave Rhone a brisk nod, then walked back out into the foyer. He shouted for his carriage to be brought around front again.

Rhone followed Lyon out the front door. "Wouldn't your steed get you there quicker?"

"I'll need the carriage later."

"What for?"

"Splickler."

The way he'd said the bastard's name told Rhone all he needed or wanted to know. He waited until they were both settled inside the conveyance to give his full explanation. "One of my men-or rather one of Jack's men-was offered a sizable amount to help take Christina to Gretna Green. Splickler thinks to force a marriage, you see. I went to meet with my men to tell them there wasn't going to be another raid. One of them is a decent enough fellow-for a bandit-by the name of Ben. He told me he'd been asked by Splickler and agreed to go along. Ben thought it was a rather amusing way to make some easy money."

The look on Lyon 's face was chilling.

"Splickler hired Ben and three others. I paid Ben so he'd pretend to be in on the scheme. He won't help Splickler, if we can count on his word."

"You're certain it's set for midnight?" Lyon asked.

"Yes," Rhone answered with a nod. "There's still plenty of time, Lyon." He let out a long sigh. "I do feel relieved you're going to take care of the matter," he admitted.

"Oh, yes, I'll take care of the matter."

Lyon 's voice was whisper-soft. It sent a chill down Rhone 's spine. "You know, Lyon, I always thought Splickler was a snake, but I didn't think he had enough rattle in him to do something this obscene. If anyone finds out about this plot of his, Christina's reputation might very well suffer."

"No one's going to find out. I'll see to it."

Rhone nodded again. "Could someone have put Splickler up to this, Lyon? The man isn't smart enough to make change."

"Oh, yes, someone put him up to it, all right. The Countess. I'd stake my life on it."

"Good God, Lyon, she's Christina's aunt. You can't believe-"

"I do believe it," Lyon muttered. "She left Christina all alone. A little too convenient, wouldn't you agree?"

"Do you have an extra pistol for me?" Rhone asked.

"Never use them."

"Why not?" Rhone asked, appalled.

"Too much noise," Lyon answered. "Besides, there are only four of them, if we can believe your friend's count."

"But there are five."

"Splickler doesn't count. He'll run at the first sign of trouble. I'll find him later."

"I don't doubt that," Rhone answered.

" Rhone, when we reach Christina's townhouse, I'll have my man take you home. I don't want my carriage sitting out front. Splickler would see it. We don't want him to change his plans. I'll have my driver return for me an hour after midnight."

"I insist on lending a hand," Rhone muttered.

"You've only got one good hand to lend," Lyon answered, smiling.

"How can you be so glib?"

"The word is controlled, Rhone. Controlled."

Lyon was out of the carriage giving fresh instructions to his driver before the vehicle had rocked to a full stop. "Damn it, Lyon. I could be of help," Rhone shouted.

"You'd be more of a hindrance than a help. Go home. I'll send word to you when it's over."

Lord, he acted so unaffected by what was taking place. Rhone knew better, though. He almost felt a little sorry for the stupid, greedy men who'd joined with Splickler. The poor fools were about to find out just how the Marquess of Lyonwood had earned his reputation.

Damn, he really hated to miss the action. "I'm sure as certain not going to," Rhone muttered to himself. He waited for his opportunity. When the carriage slowed to round the corner, Rhone jumped to the street. He landed on his knees, cursed himself for his clumsiness, then brushed himself off and started walking towards Christina's house.

Lyon was going to get his good hand whether he wanted it or not.

The Marquess was shaking mad. He knew he'd calm down as soon as he saw Christina and knew she was all right. She was taking her sweet time opening the door for him. His nerves were at the snapping point. Lyon was about to break the lock with one of the special tools he always carried with him for just such an eventuality when he heard the sound of chain being slipped from the bar.

Though he'd held his temper in front of Rhone, the minute Christina opened the door he exploded with anger. "What in God's name do you think you're doing opening the door with just a robe on? Hell, you didn't even find out who it was, Christina!"