Sebastian regarded her with a hooded gaze. "There is no necessity to go into that right now, madam."

Jeremy glanced at him and then looked back at Prudence. "Did those four men really abuse my poor Lillian and drive her to her death?"

Prudence nodded sadly. "I do not think there is any question about it. But we will never be able to prove it."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed. "I do not care whether or not you can prove it, Lady Angelstone, as long as you are certain of the facts."

"As certain as we can be." Prudence looked at Sebastian. "Is that not right, sir?"

"I believe Bloomfield's tale." Sebastian watched as Jeremy's gloved hand curled into a fist. "But I think it will be possible to get confirmation."

Jeremy's head turned swiftly toward him. "From whom?"

"From Curling himself," Sebastian said slowly. He met Jeremy's eyes. "I suggest that you and I talk to him."

Jeremy hesitated, searching Sebastian's face. Then he jerked his chin up abruptly. "By God, yes."

"It is obviously time to make our plans." Prudence glanced expec­tantly at Sebastian. "What shall we do first?"

"First, my dear, Jeremy and I are going to take you home."

"Oh, no, my lord, you cannot leave me out of this."

Jeremy frowned. "You cannot possibly come with us, Lady Angel­stone. This is men's business. Isn't that right, Angelstone?"

"Yes," Sebastian said, surprised by the vehemence in Jeremy's voice. "Quite right."

He braced himself as Prudence opened her mouth to argue. This time he would stand his ground, he told himself.

But to his astonishment, she closed her mouth again without say­ing a word.

It was nearly four in the morning before Sebastian finally found himself alone in the carriage with Jeremy. They were headed for Curl­ing's house. Prudence had maintained her unaccustomed silence all the way home, where Sebastian had quickly escorted her inside and sent her upstairs to bed. He knew she would be waiting up for expla­nations when he got home.

"I shall challenge Curling, of course," Jeremy burst out as soon as the carriage was in motion.

"Will you?"

"It is all I can do to avenge poor Lillian. When I think of what she must have gone through that night, my blood boils."

"Risking your neck in a duel will not bring her back," Sebastian said softly.

Jeremy's eyes glittered. "I intend to kill him."

"Are you a creditable shot?"

"I have practiced for some time at Manton's gallery."

Sebastian smiled faintly. "Is your mama aware of your interest in the sport?"

Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. "No, ‘course not. She wouldn't ap­prove."

Sebastian listened to the clatter of the horses' hooves on the pav­ing stones. "Tell me, Cousin, have you ever actually engaged in a duel?"

"Well, no, but I'm certain I can hit my target"

"Putting a bullet in a man who is aiming a pistol at your heart is not quite the same as putting a bullet in a target at Manton's," Sebas­tian said quietly. "It requires ice, not fire, in one's veins. You are too hot-blooded for dueling."

Jeremy scowled at him. "There are rumors that you have fought one or two duels in your time."

Sebastian gave him a bland look. "Dueling is illegal."

Jeremy's eyes slid awkwardly away from Sebastian's face. "Yes, sir, I know." He cleared his throat. "You are accounted something of a legend, sir, as I'm certain you are well aware. You are a man of the world. I would greatly appreciate it if you would give me some hints on the subject of conducting a duel."

"Your mama would not approve."

"Hang my mama." Jeremy's eyes were suddenly fierce. "It's none of her affair. I have to do this for Lillian. Don't you understand? I loved her."

Jeremy meant every word, Sebastian thought. He made his own decision. "Very well. If it comes to a duel, I shall act as one of your seconds."

Jeremy was taken aback. "You will?"

"Yes."

"I say, Angelstone." Jeremy stared at him in astonishment. "That's very good of you, sir. I appreciate it."

"You do realize that if you get yourself killed your mama will blame me. And so will my wife." Sebastian smiled faintly. "I can deal with your mama, but I do not like to contemplate my future if Lady Angelstone concludes that I did nothing to prevent you from getting yourself shot."

"I do not intend to get myself shot," Jeremy said. "The goal is to put a bullet in Curling."

"No, Cousin," Sebastian said softly. "The goal is to destroy Curl­ing. Challenging him to a duel is a tactic of last resort."

"Why?"

"The results would be far too uncertain. He might very well sur­vive, for example, even if you do lodge a bullet in him. Many men do. Trust me when I tell you that there are other, more reliable methods for accomplishing your goal."

Jeremy watched him as the carriage rumbled down the street. "How do you suggest I go about destroying Curling?"

Sebastian explained the plan he had been formulating since the moment he had discovered the business agreement that bound The Princes of Virtue.

They arrived at Curling's town house an hour before dawn. The fog was thickening rapidly.

Curling's butler, disheveled and angry at having been summoned from his bed at such an early hour, answered the door. He sighed at the sight of two gentlemen standing on the doorstep.

"Inform your master that Angelstone wishes to see him at once, Sebastian said.

"His lordship only got in an hour ago," the butler said. "He won't like being awakened."

Sebastian smiled. "I do not particularly care if he likes it or not.

The butler eyed Sebastian's smile. "Very well, m'lord. If you and your gentleman friend will step inside, I'll see that his lordship is informed of your presence." He stalked away.

Sebastian looked at Jeremy, who was rigid with anger and tension. "Calm yourself, Jeremy. Or at any rate, try to give the appearance of being calm. Nothing does more to unsettle the nerves of one's foe than to appear unutterably amused or even bored."

"You should know," Jeremy said dryly. "You're a master at the art. I'd give a fortune to know how you manage to act so damnably amused or excruciatingly bored in a situation such as this."

"There is acting talent on my side of the family, if you will recall."

Jeremy slid him an assessing glance. "There are many who say you are cold-blooded by nature."

Sebastian thought of Prudence waiting at home. "And one who says I am not."

The sound of voices at the top of the stairs caught Jeremy's atten­tion. "Here comes Curling."

"You will allow me to conduct this interview," Sebastian said qui­etly.

"Yes, sir."

Curling, garbed in a silver gray dressing gown, ran a hand through his hair as he descended the staircase. He had a vaguely irritated expression on his face, suitable to a man who has been rudely awak­ened, but his eyes were alert and watchful.

"What the devil do you want at this ungodly hour, Angelstone?" He gave Jeremy an unreadable glance. "I do hope this won't take long."

"Not long at all," Sebastian assured him. "Shall we go into the library?"

Curling shrugged and led the way into the small library that opened off the hall. He casually motioned toward two chairs as he went to the brandy table. "Will you join me in a glass?"

"No," Sebastian said. He sat down in an armchair and hooked one booted foot over his knee in a casual manner.

"No," Jeremy said in the same cold tone. He stole a quick glance at Sebastian and then he, too, sat down. He was unable to achieve the same degree of ennui in his manner, but it was obvious he was making the effort.

"As you wish." Curling poured himself a glass of brandy and turned to face them with a shuttered gaze. "Well? What is so impor­tant that you felt you must call upon me at this hour?"

"We are here to discuss the recent deaths of two of your business associates," Sebastian said.

"Business associates?"

"Ringcross and Oxenham."

Curling swallowed brandy. "What makes you think they're busi­ness associates of mine?"

Sebastian smiled. "A document I found in Bloomfield's desk. It is obvious by the terms of the agreement that you are now a great deal more wealthy than you were a few days ago. And if you succeed in finding and murdering Bloomfield, you will be even richer."

Curling went very still. "Good lord, man. Are you accusing me of murdering my business partners?"

"Yes," Sebastian said. "I am."

"That's nonsense." Curling shot a narrow glance at Jeremy. "Ring-cross died in a fall and Oxenham committed suicide."

"Give it up," Sebastian said. "I know everything, including how you attempted to implicate my cousin. I would be interested to learn how you came to know that I occasionally conduct investigations for Bow Street, but that is neither here nor there."

"You are mad," Curling snapped.

"No. And neither is Bloomfield. At least not entirely. He told me about what The Princes of Virtue did to Lillian."

Jeremy's hands tightened around the arms of his chair. "You kid­napped her. Raped her. Drove her to her death."

Curling turned on him with glittering eyes. "She was nothing but a tavern whore. Her uncle sold her to us for the night. We paid quite well for her services."

"She was not a prostitute," Jeremy shouted. "She would never have agreed to go with you. You kidnapped her, you bastard."

"Rubbish." Curling's mouth curved in contempt. "She was nothing but a cheap little doxy with rather pretty legs."