“It doesn’t matter,” the pirate leader snapped.

“Temper, temper,” Ashton chided.

Malcolm swung around on him in a fit of rage. “You needn’t gloat, Mister Wingate. She may be your wife, but it will do you little good…nor will it benefit her or the child she carries. You’ll be dead shortly…and she’ll be confined to a madhouse.”

Lenore gasped and laid a trembling hand to her throat. “You wouldn’t.”

“I regret to say, madam, that Malcolm will do anything to see his purposes served,” Ashton stated wryly. “What I’m wondering now is how he plans to get rid of you and your father….”

Malcolm smirked. “That will be taken care of easily enou-”

“Unhand me, you brigand!”

The shouted command made Malcolm jump and glance around in sudden dismay as stumbling footsteps ended in a loud crash against the outside wall of the house.

“I’ll make my own way, damn you! Now where is my daughter?! Where is Lierin?!”

Thundering footfalls came into the front hall, rattling the glass in the door as Malcolm had never thought of doing with his awesome entries. The pirates glanced at each other in worried confusion, but they had no time to obey Malcolm’s angry gesture to get into the hall and seize the man. He came striding in on his own.

Ashton had once given up the thought that he would ever meet Robert Somerton face to face, but he knew as soon as he laid eyes on the graying dark head and blazing green eyes, that this was indeed the sire of Lierin Wingate. One of the brigands bolted forward to grab the older man’s arm, but he was slammed carelessly aside, and as he struck the wall and slithered senseless to the floor, Robert came around with another thunderous demand.

“Fetch me my daughter!”

The pirate who had been sent after Lierin sidled past the man and entered the room, carefully avoiding the raging intruder as he did so. Hurrying to Malcolm’s side, he made a whispered announcement. “She’s not to be found, sir. She and that maid of hers…they knocked Tappy out…and left him all bound up.”

“Find her!” Malcolm shouted. “Don’t let that bitch leave here!”

Ashton glanced over his shoulder as he glimpsed a movement on the veranda, and he saw the tail of a skirt flick past the open french doors. Casting a wary gaze around, he found the miscreants occupied with Malcolm, who was angrily giving them orders. Straightening his stance, Ashton moved cautiously backward until he stood on the threshold of the double doors. He held his bound hands outward, away from him, and waited as unseen fingers plucked at the cords. It was nearly dark and they did not have much time left to secure their freedom. His brows lifted slightly in surprise as a large pistol was placed in his grasp. The time was not appropriate to thank the hidden angel for her gift, but he would strive to bestow the full measure of his gratitude at a later moment…when their victory was firmly in hand.

Behind his back, he tucked the pistol into the top of his trousers and then cleared his throat for attention. “Maybe Lierin has gone up to the attic to hide. She has been up there before.”

Malcolm came around at Ashton’s suggestion and, seeing how close the other man was to the french doors, yelled another command to his companions, “Get him back in…!”

“I’m coming!” Ashton barked and leisurely sauntered toward the settee, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

“I promised that bloody bitch I’d see you cut,” Malcolm growled. “I think it’s about time I let Barnaby have his fun.”

“Really, Malcolm. You have become such a boor lately,” Lierin chided as she swept through the french doors. She fervently hoped that she appeared more serene than she felt. The dam had broken completely away from her memory, and it was flooding back with vivid detail. With her entry she won the gawking stares of the band of thieves who cast befuddled glances between the twins, but Lierin hardly noticed as she continued to berate her second husband who had made a bigamist of her. “All you can do lately is threaten people. You haven’t been successful in killing anyone since Mary…” She heard the startled gasp of Edward Gaitling and wondered if something his son had done had finally shocked the actor. “If you’re not careful, we’ll stop taking you seriously.”

“You bitch,” he growled. “I thought you were an angel when I first saw you with Wingate aboard the River Witch. I told my men to kill him so I could have you, but you have meant nothing but misery for me.”

“Tsk, tsk,” she shamed and, shrugging her shoulders innocently, crossed the room with a shawl draped over one hand. She moved to her father who was being held to his position by the menacing bore of a gaming gun. Robert Somerton’s eyes glowed with pleasure as he gave his daughter a casual inspection, and with a laugh that trembled slightly, Lierin came into his wide-spread arms. As she did so, she dropped the small derringer she carried into his pocket and breathed close to his ear. “The one without a shirt is a friend of ours, Papa. The rest can go to Hades.”

Robert Somerton pressed a kiss upon her brow, then setting her aside, stepped toward Malcolm with a demand. “I want to know what the bloody devil is going on here. When you brought Lierin to England, we were under the impression that you had saved her from the pirates who had killed her husband in an attack upon his steamer, but here you are, looking very much like the villain in this game.”

“He is,” Edward Gaitling slurred from the settee. He tipped the crystal decanter that he held and poured an ample draught into his glass. “My son has seized the moment in hand and made his own bed…may he rot in hell.”

Malcolm’s eyes flared as he glanced at the white-haired man, then his lips curled as he faced Somerton. “Your daughter would have drowned but for my men. They caught her by the hair as she was swept near the barge and going under. They pulled her aboard and saved her life. You ought to be grateful-”

“Grateful!” Lierin cried. “Why, you buffoon! It was their attack on the steamer that nearly killed me! They shot my husband, and for all I knew he was dead. Then you came into their camp to receive the spoils, few that they were, and you pretended to rescue me. Oh, how gallant you were to brave so many. You won my release, and then took a grieving widow to see her husband’s grave which bore a tombstone that you had purchased. An empty grave!”

“I could have filled it!” he retorted. “Would that have made you happier?”

“You tried!” she accused. “You paid your cutthroats to kill him, but he was too much of a man for the lot of them.”

Barnaby chuckled. “We’ll see how much of a man he is when I start slicing.”

Lierin whirled to face the shaggy-haired man. “You bloodthirsty lout! I’ll see you sent to hell before I’m finished with you!”

“Oooh, a right fiery bitch, she is,” the unkempt bloke taunted with a leer. “I’ve gots me a bit o’ Indian blood runnin’ in me veins, an’ ye knows what Indians like best?” His eyes twinkled at her. “Scalps! That’s right, an’ yours would make a fine one, I’d say.”

Lierin dismissed his threat with a scoffing jeer and turned back to Malcolm. “When you took me to my grandfather’s house, we saw something there that confused us both. Lenore’s portrait was gone, and when we arrived in England, neither my father nor Lenore knew where it was. But you knew, didn’t you! Or rather, you guessed. You were aware that Ashton was still alive, and you realized he was sent the wrong portrait by mistake. When you returned there, you knew where it was. There was no need for you to search for it, but you were looking for more evidence to convince me that I was Lenore…and I think you were still there when Ashton and I came.”

“Aye,” Malcolm sneered. “I saw the pair of you there, and it only made me more anxious in my quest to separate you again. Your memory loss was my good fortune, and I meant to make the most of it. Wingate had supposed you dead, and all I had to do was make him believe you were Lenore. I even had Samuel Evans change the name on the marriage document to read Lenore instead of Lierin Wingate.”

“But Ashton wasn’t so easily persuaded, was he?” Lierin derided. “From the very beginning he has thwarted your manuevers and turned your gambits to his favor….”

“The prize is within my hands now, my pet,” Malcolm responded with a caustic laugh. He was elated at the thought of the other man’s demise, but when he turned a superior smile to Ashton, he saw the mockery gleaming in those smoky depths. The glowing eyes rattled his confidence and made him wonder if there was anything that would move the Natchez man to fear. Once again he tried. “Weill will be left here for dead, and Horace will be blamed again. Poor Mr. Titch, he has been a valuable asset in my game. I’ll miss him.”

“The sheriff might not be so gullible,” Ashton replied. “I warned him last night that it seemed too easy and the thieves might be using Horace as a scapegoat.”

“You set a trap for my men,” Malcolm jeered. “And you caught a little rabbit in the snare, and once the foxes are released, he’ll be the only one who’s left.”

“You also took back the jewels you had given Lierin,” Ashton said.

Malcolm shrugged and smiled. “She kicked me out. Why not?”

A badly slurred voice came from the settee. “Marcus told me she was really Lenore….”

“’Twould seem you have played us all for fools,” Somerton accused. “Even your father. You have gone to great lengths to make my daughter your wife.”

“Lierin had something I wanted.” The full lips smiled slightly. “Wealth. She was my best hope to gain it. I courted her relentlessly and finally she agreed to marry me.” He frowned sharply. “But on our wedding night she left me…to seek out proof that I was already married. She couldn’t even allow a benefit of a doubt. She believed the man.”