For an answer, he pushed a piece of vellum toward her. “This is the decoded message.”

Victoria pulled the note closer and read the neatly written words.


Finally located Baylor. French found him first, he was near death. Gave unexpected information about jewels. That same night attack attempted on me. Believe this attempt related to another case. Am fine but want Victoria far away from me for her safety. Entrusting her to you. Won’t allow her to leave there until directed. This is map Baylor sketched. He said it was rock formation that showed jewels location on your property. Find jewels, get them to me, and we’ll clear your name. Be safe. Keep my girl safe.


Her heart thumped in slow, painful beats and she looked up at him. “Do you know if my father truly is unharmed?” she asked, proud that her voice remained steady.

He studied her for several seconds before replying. “Truly? No. He claims he’s fine, and I know your father, Victoria. He is the most resourceful man I know. Over the years, he has weathered several attacks against him.”

She actually felt the blood drain from her face. “If you’re hoping to reassure me of his safety, you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I’m being honest with you. He knows how to take care of himself. Since he didn’t indicate he’d been hurt, I’m sure he wasn’t.”

“How do I know this is actually what he’d coded into the note? That you haven’t left something out?”

His gaze seemed to bore right through her. “You don’t. If you continue with your insistence on helping me, I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

Trust him? A spy? A man who made his living by telling elaborate lies? A man who was no doubt searching for a way to find his cache of jewels without her? A man who could adversely affect her self-control with a mere look? A man who’d proven he would take advantage of being alone with her? She’d be mad to trust him. Yet… there was something about him that inspired confidence and faith. And as for being alone with her, well, her conscience demanded that she admit she’d taken just as much advantage of that situation as he had. And apparently her father thought him trustworthy. Surely he wouldn’t entrust her care to him otherwise.

Heat crawled through her from his intent regard, and she dropped her gaze to the note. “How on earth did you decipher this message from Father’s letter?”

“I told you, I am unsurpassedly brilliant.”

“You mean your brilliance is unsurpassed.”

“Why thank you.”

“Who is this Baylor?”

“A man for hire, and he wasn’t particular about who hired him-us or the French. He played both sides and gave his information to the highest bidder. He was one of the craftiest, most unscrupulous men I’ve ever run across. When I resigned from my service to the Crown, Baylor was being sought by the French and English alike.”

“How did he have information about the jewels? Could he have been involved in their disappearance?”

He shrugged. “Possibly. But Baylor was like a rat, sneaking around into crevices, ferreting out snippets of information, then selling them to interested parties. He might have come across the information inadvertently and was trying to make a sale when your father found him.”

She looked at the drawing she’d made. “That doesn’t look like any sort of map I’ve ever seen.”

“You cannot recall anything else?”

She slowly shook her head. “No. I thought it was a picture of tufts of grass, but according to the decoded note, it’s a rock formation.”

“Yes, but which one? There’re dozens on this estate.”

“So where do we begin?”

“I’ll draw a grid map of the property and we’ll search one area at a time. And you’re not to discuss this. With anyone.”

She raised her brows at his peremptory tone. “What about your brother and Lord Alwyck?”

“No one.”

“But why? They already know about the note. They know I know about it.”

“Because your father requested it.” He pointed to two words at the bottom of the note. “ ‘Be safe’ was a secret code between your father and me. It means not to discuss the matter with anyone.” His gaze bore into hers. “Unfortunately, with circumstances such as they are, you already know-something your father would not be pleased about, I’m sure. Of course, I’m also certain he wouldn’t be thrilled to know that since your arrival in Cornwall you’ve resorted to kidnapping and blackmail.”

“I’ve done no such thing!”

“Really? What would you call holding my letter hostage and demanding I accept your assistance before you’d return it to me?”

Victoria lifted her chin. “If I’d done anything less, I’d have once again been relegated to the corner with an indulgent pat on the head. As a Modern Woman, I refuse to be treated like that any longer.”

“Bravely spoken words. However, you might want to keep such declarations under your bonnet once you return to London. I doubt either of your potential fiancйs would be happy to hear them. Most likely the prospect of taking a Modern Woman for their wife would put them off the hunt.”

Refusing to rise to his bait, she asked, “Why do you suppose Father requested secrecy, even from your brother and Lord Alwyck?”

An odd look passed over his face. “I’ve no way of knowing what was in his mind. Perhaps he suspects that someone in this area-including my brother or Gordon, or perhaps both of them-were somehow involved in the jewels’ disappearance.”

Victoria stared. “Do you think they were involved?”

“No.” The word came out sharply, and he raked his hand through his hair. “No,” he repeated in a milder tone, “but the point is, I wasn’t to discuss this with anyone, so now I must have your promise that you will not do so.”

“What if Lords Sutton or Alwyck specifically ask me?”

“Hmmm. Yes, that could present a problem. Best you avoid their company whenever possible. Pity, especially as they both seemed quite taken with you.”

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or jesting. “Avoid the company of two handsome, eligible men, especially when they both, as you say, seemed quite taken with me? I’m not enamored of that idea at all. Even if I were, given that I’m a guest in your family’s home and Lord Alwyck is clearly a frequent visitor here, I couldn’t very well avoid them entirely.”

“Then if asked, change the subject,” he said, sounding testy. “Claim the headache. Or the vapors. Lay your hand across your brow and call weakly for your hartshorn.”

Insufferable man. Oh, he was attractive and sinfully well-versed in the art of kissing, but insufferable nonetheless. Before she could firmly inform him that she wasn’t prone to headaches or the vapors, voices sounded in the corridor.

“I’ll have your word not to mention this, Victoria.” His voice was a low, deep command.

“Very well. Consider my lips sewn closed.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Now that would be a dreadful waste,” he murmured, so softly she wasn’t even certain he’d said the words. Before she could decide, he gathered the papers and slipped them from the desk. Seconds later a smiling Aunt Delia sailed through the open library doorway, followed by Nathan’s father. “I cannot believe the duke would say such a scandalous-”

Her aunt’s animated words cut off when she saw Nathan and Victoria. “There you both are,” she said, heading straight for the desk. “I’ve the most wonderful news.”

That would explain the rosy tint staining her aunt’s cheeks, the glow in her eyes, and her wide smile. Aunt Delia loved nothing more than imparting news.

“While Lord Rutledge and I were returning from our stroll in the garden, we came across Lord Alwyck, who was returning to his estate,” Aunt Delia said. “He has invited us all to dine with him this evening at Alwyck Hall. Isn’t that marvelous? You simply must wear your new aqua gown, Victoria. You’ll want to look your best, and the color is exquisite on you.” She turned to Nathan. “You should see her in aqua, Dr. Oliver. It’s a sight to behold.”

Heat flared in Victoria’s cheeks. Good Lord, what on earth was Aunt Delia saying?

“I shall count the hours,” Nathan said solemnly, “although I’m certain that Lady Victoria wears every color well. As would you, Lady Delia.”

A noise that could only be described as a girlish giggle came from Aunt Delia, and Victoria stared at her aunt in amazement. “Why, thank you, Dr. Oliver.”

Nathan’s father cleared his throat. “Speaking of attire…” he shot a pointedly raised brow at Nathan’s lack of a jacket and cravat.

Nathan pushed back his chair and rose. “If you will all excuse me, I have some correspondence-”

“And a cravat,” his father intoned.

“-to attend to. I’ll see you all this evening.” He bowed, then strode toward the door, the vellum papers now folded over in one hand.

This evening? Victoria watched him leave the room with the letter and map and wondered exactly what he planned to do between now and then.


Nathan sat in Gordon’s drawing room after dinner and tried to concentrate on the inlaid chessboard set between him and his father, but his attention was focused on the same thing it had been all through the interminable evening.

Victoria.

The torture had commenced three hours and seventeen minutes ago-the instant he’d seen her walking down the stairs toward the foyer where he stood, alone, waiting for the rest of the group to gather to travel to Gordon’s estate. Dressed in a pale aqua muslin gown with short, puffed sleeves and a low, square-cut neckline, her shiny curls twined with ribbon and arranged in a becoming Grecian knot, she moved slowly and gracefully down the wide staircase, as if gliding on air, like a gorgeous sea nymph from a Botticelli painting. She was precisely what her aunt had said she’d be. A sight to behold.