“For any evidence of his cargo,” Harry said.

“And he saw the brooch…when?” Edmond frowned. “It’s not as if Madeline was wearing it at the festival where anyone could have seen it. How would some blackguard have sighted it-especially enough to recognize it?” He focused on Gervase’s face. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it? That someone saw it and knew it was from his lost cargo.” Edmond looked at Harry. “But we didn’t show it to anyone-not even Aunt Muriel-before we gave it to Madeline. And she only wore it at her party-”

“And then at Lady Felgate’s ball.” Solemn and somber, Gervase nodded. “You’re right. We know everyone who was at Madeline’s party-we’ve known them for years. It wasn’t anyone there. But Lady Felgate’s ball was attended by almost everyone on the peninsula-”

“Including people who aren’t from around here,” Harry put in. “People who are visiting for the summer with local families.”

“Exactly. There’s no saying who might have noticed the brooch, and the person involved might not even have attended the ball-someone might have mentioned the brooch to them later.” Gervase grimaced. “It’s such a unique piece, even a vague description would be enough for someone who was familiar with it to recognize it.”

“But we told Madeline we bought it from that peddler,” Edmond said. “No one but you knew we’d found it on the beach.”

“And I didn’t tell anyone.” Gervase frowned, then pulled a face. “The person looking for the lost cargo was at the festival, of course. He would have checked with all the peddlers-the most obvious source for recently washed-up items. When asked where she got the brooch-and untold ladies at the ball did ask-Madeline said you’d given it to her for her birthday and that you’d found it at one of the peddlers’ stalls at the festival. But our man knew that wasn’t true, ergo you three were lying-which to his mind would mean you had found his lost cargo.”

“So…” Harry’s voice died; he stared at Gervase. “Is it someone from London who’s kidnapped Ben?”

Pure instinct had prompted him to suggest the barrier on the London road; Gervase wryly noted his instincts were still sound. “Most likely, but we can’t assume they’ll take him to London. I just wanted to ensure they don’t take him out of the area-at least not easily. The London road was the obvious one to block. The authorities will search all carriages and conveyances of any sort, so if they do try to take him away…hopefully, we’ll prevent that.” Given the time lapse between when Ben was seized and when the roadblock would go up, if the villains had started for London immediately, they might slip past before the barriers were in place.

Gervase pushed the thought aside; he had to concentrate on what he could do, what he could achieve. And Ben being taken to London was a long shot.

“Let’s try to think like our villain. He’s lost his cargo, sees-or learns of-the brooch, realizes you three found it somewhere. He wants to know where, so he grabs Ben-or arranges to have him seized-reasoning that being the youngest, he’s the most likely to tell him what he wants to know without fuss.”

Harry snorted. “He’d have been better off grabbing me. Ben’s the most stubborn of us all.”

Edmond nodded. “He’ll probably lie-send the man off to some other beach.”

Gervase blinked. If Edmond had so immediately thought of that, there was a good chance Ben would, too. “All right. Let’s say Ben tells the man he found the brooch somewhere-either the right beach, or another.”

“What will they do with Ben?” Harry rushed to ask.

Gervase hid his reaction, but then he thought further… “Actually, it’s most likely they’ll set Ben free. They won’t consider him any real threat. They’ll leave him somewhere out of the way, far enough so he can’t raise any dust until they’ve recovered the cargo and are long gone. There’s no reason they should harm him-easy enough to make sure he doesn’t know anything that might identify them, not once they get away from here.”

The easing of Edmond’s and Harry’s tension was obvious. They breathed more easily.

“How is our villain going to recover his lost cargo?” Gervase posed the question. One flash cove, most likely from London, was in the neighborhood, most likely in the pay of their villain. How many more of his ilk might be around? Regardless…“Once Ben tells him a location, he’s going to go searching, digging in the sand.”

Gervase rose, glanced around. “Are there any maps in here?”

“Yes.” Edmond hurried to a low shelf, pulled a large folio free, then lugged it to the desk.

Gervase and Harry gathered around as Edmond opened it and spread out a large map of the peninsula. “Show me which beach it was,” Gervase demanded. “How close to Lowland Point?”

“Right there.” Harry put his finger on a spot immediately north of the headland.

Gervase glanced at the Manacles, marked as a line of jagged teeth to the right of the beach in question. “All right. If Ben tells them the truth, our man will go to that spot. He might well bring others with him to do the digging and any carting, but he will come himself-he’ll want to see his cargo retrieved.”

For a moment, he stared at the map, then he glanced at Harry, caught his eye. “We need to keep a watch on that beach. If Ben does send them there, we need to catch whoever comes to dig up the lost cargo. I’m going to put you in charge of a group of your men-all from here so they’ll look to you for command. I want you to take the men to the right stretch of beach and keep a watch over it-you know how to hide in the caves, and along the cliffs. Stay out of sight unless our villain or his henchmen arrive-they’ll almost certainly not be locals. Then…you’ll have enough men to capture them.”

Harry swallowed. He held Gervase’s gaze, then nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

“Don’t worry.” Gervase clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll have your head stableman and others you know with you.” He turned to Edmond. “You’ll need to ride with Madeline and the rest of us to show us exactly where Ben was when last you saw him.”

Gervase glanced one last time at the map, then turned to the door. “Right-let’s get going.”

The boys fell in on his heels. They returned to the front hall; swiftly, Gervase made arrangements with Milsom, with the older man’s help selecting experienced men as well as a few eager young stalwarts for Harry’s “troop.”

Milsom retreated to dispatch a footman to ferry his orders to the stables. As Gervase turned back to the boys, Edmond asked, “Ben is going to be all right, isn’t he?”

Madeline hurried down the stairs in time to hear the question. After dispatching her last note-the one to the castle-she’d rushed upstairs to pull her riding trousers on under her walking dress-no time to change gowns-then she’d stopped in Muriel’s room to explain. Her aunt napped in the afternoons when she could; she’d been horrified, but had borne up under the strain, relieved-as Madeline was-to know that Gervase was there and helping.

Now, hearing Edmond voice her own fearful question, she felt her heart contract, felt herself wait, breath bated, for Gervase’s answer.

He’d heard her footsteps; he turned, met her eyes, then smiled gently, reassuringly. He turned back to Edmond, looking down into her brother’s face. “The most likely thing to happen is that after Ben gives them a location for where you found the brooch, they’ll leave him somewhere, trussed up so he can’t raise the alarm while they come to search for the rest of the lost cargo. There’s no reason for them to harm him. Once we catch them, we’ll be able to learn where they’ve left him.”

Madeline felt her eyes widen. “Brooch? Lost cargo? ” Clearly she’d missed something major.

Gervase met her eyes. “I’ll explain all on our way. We have to get moving.” He glanced at Harry. “Harry’s leading a band of your men to keep watch on the beach where they found your brooch.” He caught her gaze, clearly willing her not to slow them with more questions, to trust him. “Can you fetch a shirt of Ben’s, or a neckerchief? Not something washed but something he’s recently worn next to his skin. It’ll give the dogs his scent. Two pieces would help-Charles has two dogs and we might want to send them in different directions.”

Drawing in a huge breath through the vise clamped about her lungs, lips thin, she nodded. “I’ll get them.” Turning, she hurried back up the stairs.

Behind her she heard Gervase repeating orders to Harry, calm and certain, reassuring in his clarity.

She swept into Ben’s room; it took but a moment to sort through the pile of dirty linen flung in a corner. Selecting a shirt he’d worn the day before, and his nightshirt, she rushed back into the corridor, paused, then, bundling the linens up in one arm, she ran to her own room.

The brooch-how the devil was it linked with all this?-lay on her dressing table. She swiped it up, stared at it as it lay on her palm; she couldn’t believe it was worth anyone’s life, certainly not Ben’s, but…if the men who had kidnapped Ben were after it, she’d trade it in a blink.

Stuffing it into the pocket of her dress, feeling it heavy against her thigh, she raced out of the door and headed for the stairs.

She clattered down to find Gervase and Edmond waiting for her. Muriel had come down and was standing with them.

“Take care-all of you,” Muriel said. “And bring Ben back.”

Madeline swooped and kissed her cheek as she passed. “We will.”

She met Gervase’s eyes. He nodded. “Let’s ride.”

Outside they found a milling crowd, all mounted. She saw Harry conferring with Simpkins, their head stableman, then Harry called the group about him to order. He glanced back, once, at her, raised his hand in a salute, nodded to Gervase, then led his small band off.

Madeline stared at his back as he rode down the drive.