Julianne's eyes flooded with tears. "How is it that you happen to be here just when I need you the most?"

Lady Langston smiled and took the handkerchief to dab at Julianne's tears. "Mr. Mayne sent me a note relaying that you needed a friend. So here I am."

Gideon could tell she hadn't delayed a moment in getting here. Her hair was disheveled, and her hands bore telltale charcoal stains. She'd obviously been sketching.

Julianne gave a huge sniffle. "That was very nice of him."

Lady Langston smiled at him over Julianne's head. "I believe he is a very nice man. And clearly very worried about you. As am I. Mr. Mayne carried up a lovely tea tray. Why don't you and I have a cup and talk?"

Julianne nodded. "All right." She turned to Gideon. "Thank you. For giving me my time alone. And for bringing Sarah to me."

Bloody hell, it was all he could do not to drag her into his arms. Hold her tight. Kiss away every tear. As it was, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing at the moisture beneath her eyes. He wanted to scold her for frightening him, but he didn't have the heart. He wanted to tell her he loved her and that the thought of her marrying Eastling was as much an anathema to him as it was to her. But since he couldn't say that, he merely said, "You're welcome." And then he stopped touching her. While he still had the strength to do so.

He rose and made his way to the corridor, where he picked up the tea tray. When he returned, Lady Langston was standing. "Set it right there on the hearth rug, if you please, Mr. Mayne," she said. "We'll enjoy our tea there, like an indoor picnic." After he did so, she clasped his hand between both of hers. "Thank you for sending for me."

"I'm glad you were able to come." He glanced down at Julianne, then raked his free hand through his hair. "I knew she needed someone."

"You're very perceptive. And I can see, very concerned. But please don't be. I'll take good care of her."

He nodded. "Caesar will remain outside the door."

She released his hand and pushed up her glasses. "What's left of the door. You broke it down?"

"When she didn't answer…" His voice trailed off, and he shrugged.

"How is your shoulder?"

"Fine. Much better than the door. While you're enjoying your tea, I'll see about arranging repairs."

Lady Langston nodded, and after one last look at Julianne, Gideon quit the room and headed toward the stairs. As soon as he turned the corner and was out of sight of Julianne's chamber, he stopped. Leaned against the wall. Dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Drew in a shaky breath.

For a horrible few seconds when she didn't answer him, he'd thought he'd lost her-that when he broke through that door he wouldn't find her alive. That another woman he loved was gone. His heart had seemed to stutter then halt, and every cell in his body had screamed an agonizing No!

Thank God that worry had proven fruitless. But it had given him a taste of the agony to come. Because she'd be married in two days. Gone in two days. Lost to him forever in two days, as surely as if she had died. And that agony he'd experienced for those few horrible seconds was what he would live with every day.

In just two days.

After dragging in a few more breaths, he pushed off the wall and continued toward the stairs, determination coursing through him. He had to discover the murderer's identity before then. If he didn't, there was every chance the danger would follow Julianne to Cornwall, where he wouldn't be able to protect her. And the thought of that was even more torturous than that of her belonging to someone else.

He'd almost reached the foyer when the brass knocker sounded. He paused on the stairway while Winslow opened the door. The sight of Henry standing on the flagstones had Gideon hurrying down the remaining steps.

"Mr. Locke is here for me," he told Winslow. He tensed at Henry's troubled expression. Clearly his friend had news for him… news that wasn't good. Bloody hell, was it concerning Jack Mayne? "Is the library available for us?"

"Yes, Mr. Mayne. Follow me, please."

Gideon headed down the corridor, cursing the ridiculous formality of the butler's escort. It wasn't as if he didn't know where the damn library was located. The instant Winslow departed, closing the door behind him, Gideon said to Henry, "You have news."

"I'm afraid so."

Henry's tone filled Gideon with dread. Dread that he was about to hear his father's name. He braced himself for the blow.

"There's been another murder and robbery, Gid."

It took Gideon several seconds to absorb the news, and he was ashamed of the relief he felt that Henry's visit didn't have to do with Jack Mayne. "Who?" he asked. "When, where, and how?"

"Vivian Springly, Viscountess Hart. According to the magistrate, she died only within the last few hours from a blow to the head. She was discovered in her private sitting room by a maid. Nothing appears to have been disturbed in the house, except her entire cache of jewelry-which she kept in her private sitting room-was gone."

"Who was home at the time? Was anyone admitted to the house?"

"There was no one at home except the viscountess. The entire staff had the afternoon free."

Gideon frowned. "Was that usual?"

"Happened once a week for the past month, according to the maid."

"Most likely she had a lover," Gideon said. "Any idea who?"

Henry shook his head. "Maid said her mistress was very secretive about it."

"Where was her husband?"

"Dead. Viscount Hart died three years ago after being thrown from his mount."

"Why was the maid at the house when she'd been given the afternoon free?"

"Said she'd come back because she'd forgotten her money."

"Or because she wanted to catch a glimpse of the secret lover."

"Most likely," Henry agreed. "Instead, she caught a glimpse of the dead viscountess through the open sitting room door."

"Anyone besides the magistrate there?"

"Simon Atwater," Henry said.

Gideon nodded at the name of his fellow Bow Street Runner. Atwater was a good man, thorough and intelligent.

"One thing I think you'll find interesting," Henry said. "The viscountess has a connection to one of the names on the list you gave me."

Gideon's interest quickened. "What sort of connection?"

"She is-was-Lord Penniwick's sister."

And that, Gideon decided, was very interesting indeed.

After thanking his friend for the information and getting Henry's promise to keep him informed of any new developments, Gideon escorted his friend back to the foyer and bade him good-bye. He then turned to Winslow. "I need to speak to Lord Gatesbourne as soon as he arrives home."

"His lordship returned just moments ago, Mr. Mayne. I'll see if he's available."

Winslow headed down the corridor, and Gideon paced the foyer, his mind racing. He was convinced these were not haphazard crimes committed upon random victims. Something connected them. Something that would lead him to identify the killer. Perhaps this latest crime would provide the clue he was looking for.

Winslow returned a moment later. "His lordship will see you now." He escorted Gideon to the earl's private study where he was greeted by Julianne's father's frosty gaze.

"Well?" the earl asked. "Dare I hope this interruption means you've some good news?"

"No. Another murder and robbery has been committed." He quickly related the story Henry had told him, concluding with, "There has to be some connection between these crimes."

"Of course there is," the earl said. "They've all been perpetrated upon wealthy members of society. Their jewels stolen, the owners killed so as not to be able to identify the thief."

Gideon shook his head. "No, I mean something more. I don't believe these are random crimes. There must be something that links these particular victims…" Pieces of the puzzle shifted in his mind, clicking into place in a pattern he hadn't seen before. Bloody hell, why hadn't he thought of this earlier? He fixed his gaze on the earl's. "Something that you are somehow connected to."

"Me?" the earl repeated coldly.

"Yes. All of the victims have been women. Lady Julianne's life was threatened. I think-"

"That all those women are somehow connected?" the earl broke in. He shook his head. "Impossible. While Julianne might have been acquainted with the ladies who were killed, I assure you she had nothing whatsoever to do with Mrs. Greeley."

"Lord Jasper's mistress." Gideon nodded. "I agree. But I'm not thinking the connection is between the victims, but rather the victim's families." He nodded toward the earl's pen set. "May I have a piece of vellum and use your pen?"

The earl nodded his consent, withdrawing the vellum from a drawer and sliding it across the shiny mahogany surface to Gideon. Gideon carefully wrote the victims' names then listed their immediate family members. Lastly he added Julianne's name as an intended victim, with the earl and countess as her family members. When he finished, he handed the list to the earl.

"Please add any family members to the list I'm not aware of. Do you see any connection between the family members, anything at all, no matter how remote it might seem?"

The earl studied the list at length, while Gideon watched him. For several minutes his expression remained completely impassive. Then a frown bunched between his brows.

"You've discovered something?" Gideon asked, leaning forward.