"You invited me to do my worst. But I'd much prefer to do my best."

Gideon's words from earlier that afternoon echoed in her mind. Heat scorched her face then raced downward to engulf her entire body. He'd been a hairsbreadth away from kissing her. And if her plan for tonight hadn't gone awry, he'd be inside the house right now, rather than outside.

She set down the book and paced the length of the chamber, her thoughts troubled-now not so much by her impending engagement and marriage but rather a question that had plagued her all evening.

What had happened to Johnny?

She'd not seen the young coal porter since this morning when they'd struck their bargain. Since then he'd drastically changed the script of their little play, first by leaving the note in her bedchamber, then by not making any ghostly noises during the séance. Dear God, she hoped no disaster had befallen the young man. But surely his absence was merely due to the foul weather.

Foul weather that Gideon would be in right now as he guarded the house. If only it wasn't storming-

You'd sneak outside to see him?her inner voice asked with scathing disapproval.

Yes. That's exactly what she would do.

Her common sense berated her. Told her she should send up a prayer of thanks for the rain that kept her inside. Her heart countered that she wasn't made of spun sugar and therefore wouldn't melt if she got wet.

No, she wouldn't melt, but was she brave enough to venture out alone into the stormy darkness?

You wouldn't be alone. Gideon is out there.

Yes, but the perimeter of the mansion was large. What if she couldn't find him? What if, while she searched the rear of the mansion, he was patrolling the front? There was no telling how long she might be alone in the dark.

Perhaps she could entice him inside to warm himself by the fire and dry off. She could offer him something to drink. Several of Cook's delicious biscuits. Her heart sped up at the prospect.

She made her way to the window nearest her bed, pushed aside the heavy green velvet drape, and frowned. It was so dark outside, all she could see was her own dim reflection in the panes. She stepped closer to the window, trying to see beyond the balcony to the ground below and rested her hand against the glass. Chill seeped into her palm, and her insides ached at the thought of Gideon out there, cold, wet, and alone.

Lightning blazed across the sky, and Julianne blinked against the sudden brilliance. Thunder boomed following a series of lightning flashes that illuminated the entire rear gardens of the house. Julianne stared into the brightness. And her blood ran cold.

A hooded figure stood directly in front of her, holding a large knife in one gloved hand.

Her mouth dropped open in shock.

The figure reached out with its other hand and grasped the handle to the French windows. The door rattled. The lightning ended, plunging the room into darkness.

Julianne screamed and ran, the sound of the rattling ringing in her ears.

Chapter 9

Cold rain dripped down Gideon's face and neck, seeping beneath his collar to trickle down his back, a discomfort he ignored as he'd reached his saturation point hours ago and couldn't possibly get any wetter. He could only hope the foul weather wouldn't keep the so-called murdering ghost robber-or whoever had left that note in Julianne's bedchamber-from attempting his scheme tonight. For that's precisely what it would it be-an attempt-as Gideon had every intention of catching the bastard.

Especially now, since the bastard had struck again. The magistrate's disturbing news, spoken to Gideon less than two hours ago, echoed through his mind. Lady Daltry… robbed of her jewels… and murdered.

Lady Daltry, who had been alive and well this morning when Gideon had checked for footprints outside the window of her home.

"She's the last one, you bastard," Gideon muttered. "The last one you're going to rob and kill."

Hopefully, the note leaver and the ghost robber were one and the same, so he could put a quick end to this. Not only for the sake of the fine citizens of Mayfair but for himself. He needed a new assignment. To get away from here. From her. From the agonizing, overwhelming temptation that strangled him, that he couldn't seem to fight, every time he was near her.

Keeping to the shadows, he slogged through the mud, eyes and ears alert, Caesar at his heels. He often brought Caesar on missions such as this, and the keenly intelligent animal had proven himself a worthy partner. Caesar had taken a bite out of more than one fleeing criminal's arse.

They turned the corner leading to the front of the mansion, and Gideon heard what sounded like a faint cry. He paused, knife at the ready, straining to hear above the thunder growling in the distance. Caesar halted beside him, and he felt the dog's sudden tension.

The sound came again, louder, stronger, and this time unmistakable. A scream. From inside the house.

Julianne.

Gideon raced forward, Caesar on his heels. Heart pounding, he was running up the stone steps, prepared to smash through the door or the window or both-whatever he needed to do to get to her-when the front door swung open.

Winslow, expression anxious, candle in hand-which blew out the instant the oak panel opened-stood on the threshold. Gideon caught a glimpse of Julianne standing in the foyer, clasping a candelabra with both hands, her eyes wide with obvious fright.

"What's wrong, Winslow?" Gideon asked, taking the stairs three at a time.

The butler started, then visibly relaxed when he recognized him. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Mr. Mayne. I was just about to call for you. Lady Julianne-"

Gideon pushed past him, leaving a trail of mud and rain on the marble floor, and halted in front of Julianne. The terrified look in her eyes twisted his gut. He too fl ok the candelabra from her, noting she was shaking, and passed it to Winslow, who'd shut the door and joined them.

Gideon gently grasped Julianne by the shoulders, absorbing her tremors. "What happened?"

"I… I saw someone. Just outside my bedchamber window. On the balcony." A shudder ran through her, and she briefly squeezed her eyes shut. Twin tears rolled down her pale cheeks. "He had a knife. And he was trying to get in."

Gideon's fingers involuntarily tightened, then he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, realizing too late it was too wet of be of any use. Still, Julianne accepted it with a nod of thanks. "That's the window that I relocked earlier today after finding it unfastened. What did he look like?"

"I couldn't tell. He wore a black cloak with a hood. I saw him. Then I screamed. And ran. I couldn't stop screaming."

"I heard you." Yes. And his heart had nearly stopped.

Just then two more people rushed into the foyer, both of whom Gideon recognized from his interviews with the servants that afternoon. The first, a strapping young footman named Ethan who, instead of his impeccable livery, now sported bare feet and sleep-flattened hair, and wore an obviously hastily tied flannel robe. Ethan was followed by the cook, Mrs. Linquist, an older, heavyset woman, ensconced from chin to toes in white nightclothes. Her mobcap was badly askew on her frizzy gray hair, and she brandished a small cast-iron pot in one hand.

"Wot's happenin'?" Ethan asked at the same time Mrs. Linquist asked, "Who screamed?"

"Lady Julianne saw someone outside her window," Gideon said tersely. "I want you all to stay right here. Don't move from this spot. I'm going upstairs to investigate. If you see or hear anything, yell. Do not open the door to anyone. Understood?"

They all nodded. Gideon turned to Winslow. "Are you armed with anything besides that candlestick?"

Winslow's eyes widened. "Certainly not."

"Then it will have to do." He looked at the brass candlestick the footman held. "Same for you." After giving the cook and her cast-iron pot an approving nod, he turned to Julianne. "Get those embroidery scissors out of your pocket."

Gideon pointed to the dog sitting patiently next to his boots. "This is Caesar. He'll watch over you while I'm gone." Looking down into Caesar's intelligent brown eyes, he ordered in a low voice, "Guard."

Without another word he strode from the foyer, moving swiftly toward Julianne's bedchamber. He entered cautiously, knife ready, but instantly sensed the room was empty. After assuring himself that was indeed the case, he examined the windows, both of which were securely locked. He stepped onto the balcony but found no evidence of an intruder. He noted the sturdy tree close by. The branches would hold a man's weight. A reasonably fit man could certainly make the climb or use a rope to gain access to the balcony. And Lady Julianne. There was no doubt in his mind that whoever had left the note in Lady Julianne's room had also unlocked her window in order to gain entrance when he returned tonight.