Augusta glanced across the small chamber and assured herself the door was closed.

Her observations of the male sex had informed her years ago that gentlemen were strongly inclined to keep their most valuable papers locked in their library desks. Her father, brother, and uncle had all followed that policy. It was that observation that had enabled her to guess the location of Rosalind Morrissey's stolen journal. Augusta was certain she would find her marker in Lovejoy's desk tonight.

It was unfortunate that she had been unable to ask Harry to come along on this venture, she thought as she went over the desk and crouched behind it. His knowledge of how to use a bit of wire to open locks would have come in handy. She wondered where he had picked up the skill.

Augusta gently tugged on the drawer, which was most definitely locked shut. She wrinkled her nose as she studied the desk. She could just imagine Harry's reaction if she had requested his help tonight. The man had no sense of adventure.

The lock of Lovejoy's desk was difficult to see in the shadows. Augusta toyed with the notion of lighting the taper. If she closed the drapes no one would be likely to spot the light coming from the library window.

She rose to her feet and started to search for a light source. Her back was to the open window and she was just reaching for what appeared to be a candle holder on a high shelf when she sensed a presence. Someone else is in the library. I have been discovered.

Shock and fear vibrated through Augusta. A cry of raw panic rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. But before she could whirl around or even utter a scream, a strong hand closed forcefully over her mouth.

"This is getting to be a most unpleasant habit," Harry growled in her ear.

"Graystone." Augusta went limp with relief as his hand dropped away from her lips. "Dear God, you gave me an awful start. I thought it was Lovejoy."

"You little fool. It easily could have been. Indeed, you may wish it had been by the time I have finished with you."

She turned to face him and found him looming tall and dark in the shadows. He was dressed entirely in black, including black leather boots and a long, black greatcoat which concealed his clothing. He carried his ebony cane, she noticed, but saw that for once he was not wearing a crisp white cravat. It was the first time she had ever seen him without one. Dressed in this fashion the earl blended perfectly into the darkness.

"What on earth are you doing here?" she demanded softly.

"I would have thought it obvious. I am attempting to keep my future wife out of Newgate Prison. Have you found what you came for?"

"No, I just got here. The desk is locked. I was searching for a taper when you snuck up behind me." Augusta scowled as a thought occurred to her. "How did you know I was here?"

"That is not important at the moment."

"Sir, you have the most unsettling way of always knowing what I am about. One would almost believe you can read minds."

"No great feat, I assure you. Why, if you try very hard, I'll wager you could even read mine tonight. For example, what do you believe I am thinking at this very moment, Augusta?" Harry went back to the window and closed it softly. Then he moved to the desk.

"I suspect you are rather annoyed with me, my lord," Augusta ventured as she followed him across the room. "But I can explain everything."

"Your explanations can come later, although I doubt that I will find them much of an excuse for this nonsense." Harry went down on one knee behind the desk and fished a familiar-looking length of wire out of his pocket. "But first let us finish this business and be gone."

"Excellent notion, my lord." Augusta crouched beside him, peering intently at what he was doing. "Do you not need a taper to see what you are doing?"

"No. This is not the first desk I have opened by touch. If you will recall I had some practice on Enfield's."

"Yes, so you did. Which reminds me, Harry, wherever did you learn—"

There was a faint click from the small keyhole. The desk was unlocked.

"Ah," said Harry very softly.

Augusta was filled with admiration. "Where did you learn how to do this so efficiently, my lord? I vow it is a most remarkable skill. I practiced on Uncle Thomas's desk with one of my hairpins, but I never acquired this degree of talent."

Harry slanted her a repressive glance as he pulled open the desk drawer. "The ability to pry open someone else's desk is not an admirable skill. I do not consider it the sort of accomplishment a young lady should learn."

"No, you would not, would you, Graystone? You think it is only men who should get to do the exciting things in this world." Augusta peered into the desk drawer. She saw nothing that even remotely resembled her IOU among the neatly arranged papers. She reached out to sift through the small assortment of items in the drawer.

Harry's hand closed over hers. "Wait. I will do the searching."

Augusta sighed. "I assume this means you know what I am searching for, my lord?"

"Your note to Lovejoy for the thousand pounds you owe him." Harry was sorting rapidly through the contents of the center drawer. When he found nothing, he closed it and started opening other drawers in the desk.

It was obvious Harry knew everything. Augusta decided to get an early start on her explanations. "The thing is, Graystone, it was all a mistake."

"On that we agree. A very stupid mistake." He finished going through the last of the drawers and straightened, frowning intently. "But we now have an even larger problem on our hands. I see no sign of your vowels."

"Oh, no. I was certain he would keep them in here. Every man I have ever known keeps his valuable papers in his library desk."

"You have either not known a great many men or you were not privy to all of their secrets. Many men keep their valuables in a safe." Harry started around the desk toward the bookcases.

"A safe. Yes, of course. Why didn't I think of that? Do you suppose Lovejoy has one?"

"No doubt." Harry shifted some volumes on the shelves of the bookcases. He hauled out a few of the larger ones and opened them. When they proved to contain only pages, he put them back on the shelves in exactly the same positions in which he had found them.

Seeing what he was doing, Augusta started working on another row of books. She found nothing. Alarmed that they might not find her vowels after all, she swung around in agitation and nearly stumbled into the globe. She reached out hastily to brace herself.

"Good grief, this is heavy," she muttered.

Harry turned, his gaze riveted on the globe. "Of course. It is just the right size."

"What are you talking about?" Augusta watched in amazement as he moved over to the globe and knelt beside it. She suddenly realized what he was thinking. "How very clever of you, my lord. Do you think this is Lovejoy's safe?"

"I think it is a possibility." Harry was already working on the mechanism that held the globe in its wooden frame. His fingers slid over the wood with a lover's touch, testing and probing. Then he paused. "Ah, yes. There we are."

A moment later some hidden spring gave way and the top half of the globe opened to reveal a hollow interior. A shaft of moonlight revealed a few papers and a small jeweler's box inside.

"Harry. There it is. There's my note." Augusta reached inside to pluck out her IOU. "I have it."

"Right. Let's be off, then." Harry closed the globe. "Damnation."

He went absolutely still at the faint sound of the front door of the house opening and closing. There were booted footsteps in the hall.

"Lovejoy has come home." Augusta's eyes met Harry's as she spoke. "Quick. The window."

"No time. He is coming this way."

Harry was on his feet. He grabbed his cane and her wrist and yanked Augusta toward the sofa at the far end of the room. Pushing her down behind it, he hunkered beside her, the cane in his hand.

She swallowed heavily and did not move so much as a fraction of an inch.

The footsteps paused outside the door of the library. Augusta held her breath, fiercely glad that Harry was here beside her.

The door opened and someone came into the library. Augusta stopped breathing altogether. Dear God, what a mess. And it is all my fault. I might very well succeed in plunging that paragon of propriety, the Earl of Graystone, into a scandal broth tonight. He would never forgive me.

Next to her, Harry did not stir. If he was unduly alarmed about the prospect of impending humiliation and social disaster, he did not show it. He seemed unnaturally calm, even detached as the situation reached a crisis point.

The footsteps crossed the carpet. Glass clinked as someone picked up the brandy decanter near the wing chair. Whoever it was would turn and light a lamp now, Augusta thought in horror.

But a moment later the footsteps retreated back to the door. The door closed softly and the footsteps went on down the hall.

Augusta and Harry were once more alone in the library.

Harry waited a few heartbeats and then surged to his feet, tugging Augusta up beside him. He gave her a small shove. "The window. Hurry."

Augusta hastened to the window and opened it. Harry grasped her around the waist and lifted her up onto the sill.

"Where the devil did you get yourself a pair of trousers?" he muttered.

"They belonged to my brother."

"Have you no notion of propriety at all?"

"Very little, my lord." Augusta dropped down onto the grass and turned to watch him come through the window.