"Did he say where he was going?"

"No. Although he left through the gardens, so I assume he went home."

"I have to follow him."

"I beg your pardon?" Vivi and Ella spoke in unison.

"I told you, I can't explain. There's no time. You have to help me. I'm going out through the gardens. If anyone asks, tell them I had a fallen hem and went to have Eliza repair it."

"Wait. Are you all right, Alex?" Vivi looked concerned.

"I'm all right. Just do this for me? Oh... and find Freddie. Tell him thank you, I found Blackmoor."

"This is becoming more and more curious as the moments pass," said Ella.

"Alex, you can't just go traipsing off to Blackmoor House after him. You’ll be ruined if you're caught!"

"I’ll simply have to risk it," Alex said, wishing she had time to savor their confusion. "I’ll tell you everything upon my return. I promise." She kissed them both on the cheek. "Oh. And if I don't return in three quarters of an hour, tell your father where I went, Vivi."

"What?!"

"I’ll be fine. It's just a precaution."

"What kind of precaution involves my father?"

"I’ll tell you everything upon my return," she repeated. And, with that, she exited the room, making her way to the music room, which had an entrance to the gardens that offered a better chance of her not being caught in her escape.

Rushing though the dark garden that connected Worthington and Blackmoor houses, Alex did not take any time to think about what she would do if she were to interrupt a dreadful event. Instead, she thought only of Gavin: his grey eyes the color of the winter sea; his bold smiles that heated her very core; his generous spirit. Thinking of him focused her mind on one thing... she had to reach him before anyone else.

As she broke through the trees and found herself in the Blackmoor House garden, she pulled up short and inspected the house. She could see dimly lit windows on the upper floor, reserved for servants, but the rest of the home was dark, appearing uninhabited and forbidding.

She was just deciding how to enter the house when she sensed movement nearby. falling back to press herself against a tree and blend in with the shadows, she watched as a small, dark figure crept across the back garden toward the window she knew led to the Earl of Blackmoor's study. She focused intently on the figure, attempting to identify him. Try as she might, she couldn't make out his face, although his physique seemed vaguely familiar.

She watched in surprise as he worked the latch on the window, quickly unlocking it from the outside and lifting the sash, pushing it open.

It was clear that he was breaking into the house. It was also clear that she had to do something to stop him.

She gathered her courage, prepared to rush at him and stop his actions, when a light beamed brightly from inside the study, surprising her and sending the intruder scurrying off like a rat — around the corner of the house and across the garden. As she watched him hurry off, she felt a jolt of recognition. She was certain that he was the Baron Montgrave.

"My God! Ella was right!" she whispered to the night air. She'd made light of her friend's overactive imagination and, this time, she should have listened!

Once the baron was out of sight, she followed his steps to the study window, which was still cracked open. Stepping into the soft earth beneath the window, she peered into the room to see Blackmoor at his desk, staring into nothingness, clearly lost in his own thoughts. She released an enormous sigh, grateful that he was unharmed — desperate to touch him and confirm his safety.

Reaching up, she rapped on the window pane sharply, startling Blackmoor from his thoughts. He stood up quickly, squinting at the window. Alex realized that he was unable to see her for the reflection of the light in the glass, so she called out softly, "It's me!"

His eyes widened in surprised recognition as he moved quickly toward her, saying, "I'm certain I must be dreaming. There's no way you'd risk your reputation quite so baldly."

He threw open the window and leaned down on the sill, peering out into the night, meeting her nose to nose and continuing drily, "Tel me I'm dreaming, Alexandra."

"I regret I cannot do that, my lord. It is indeed I standing in your flower bed... quite clandestinely." Placing her hands next to his on the windowsill, she continued, "I need to speak with you. Help me in?"

He considered leaving her in the garden and then thought better of it. Reaching down, he grasped her arms and hauled her through the opening and into the study, waiting for her to steady herself before turning and closing the window. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off as he turned around. "You risked your reputation to follow me back here and, quite frankly, you had better have a decent reason to be skulking around my gardens instead of dancing the night away at your parents' house."

"I do. I've several reasons, actually, including the fact that it seems I'm not the only person skulking about your gardens this evening."

His eyes widened in surprise at her words. "I beg your pardon?"

She stole a glance at the clock on the fireplace mantel. "I cannot stay long, and neither can you. We have to return to Worthington House."

"Why? Haven't we been to enough balls this season?" he quipped.

"It's not the ball. It's that you cannot stay here by yourself. Someone is planning to kill you. I just watched an aborted attempt to enter the house through this very window. I think it was Baron Montgrave.

"He's gone now, and I can't be sure. You scared him off with the light." She pushed on, urgently. "I know that wasn't the most tactful way to tell you, but we don't have much time. You see... only moments ago at the ball, I overheard a private conversation between two men who sounded very much involved in what could only have been espionage. They made it quite clear that you have access to some very dangerous information or, rather, that your father was privy to some information that he should not have been privy to and, more importantly, that they were willing to kill to be sure that, first, you don't have the opportunity to share this knowledge you may or may not have with anyone else, and, second, you do not have the opportunity to learn this information to begin with." She grasped his hand and pull ed. "We have to leave here. Now."

He did not move. "We're not going anywhere until you've explained slightly more than you already have."

She sighed impatiently. "I don't have time to explain anymore! Someone could climb through that window at any moment and surprise us!"

"It does seem a popular entryway," he observed.

"How can you jest at a time like this?" she said. "Did you not understand me? Someone is plotting to do away with you!"

"Alex. Try to stay calm."

"Stay calm?" she burst out, frustrated. "You weren't there! You didn't hear them speaking as though killing you would fit in between breakfast and morning visitors!"

"You're not hearing what I'm trying to say, Alex," he said calmly. "I know. all of it. I know that my father had information damning enough to kill for. I know it related, in some way, to the war. I know that information is believed to be hidden somewhere in Blackmoor House. I know that whoever killed my father is out for me. I know, and so does most of the War Office. We're all waiting for the knave to make his next move, which we expect will be some time soon.

Could have been just now, if what you say about an intruder running off is true. I assure you, we're all prepared for it."

"What?  You know of it? But how? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"I've suspected it to be the case for months — you know I never really believed that my father's death was an accident. The only other people who agreed with me were your father and Lord Langford, but none of us could prove anything, or so I thought. Once Blackmoor House was robbed and nothing of importance taken, I knew it must have been related to my father. Your father, Lord Langford, and I have been trying to root out the thief ever since."

"But you could be killed!"

He shook his head firmly. "While that is certainly a possibility, between my very frequent, very public appearances and the skilled Bow Street Runners who are patrolling the house, I don't think that's going to come to pass."

"Need I remind you that Baron Montgrave was skulking around the house just moments ago? Where was Bow Street then?"

"I thought you couldn't be sure it was Montgrave?" he asked, evading her question.

"I can't be. But I feel that it's better we are safe than sorry in this particular situation. I shan't be inviting the baron to tea any time soon."

"Alex. First, if indeed it was the baron, I assure you I could have easily held my own." He ignored her rolling eyes. "Second, there is no we in this situation. Part of the reason you were not apprised of this situation is because we all preferred you not know, as we understand you and Ella and Vivi more than you think. We knew that once you got wind of this, you would find it difficult to stay out of it. That said, I want you to remain out of it. Thoroughly out of it. This is no game."

"I know this is no game, Gavin. I'm not a child. And I cannot simply stay out of it. It's too late for that."

"No, it's not. I want you to pretend you didn't hear what you heard this evening. If ever there was a time for you to be a delicate flower, now is it. Is that understood?" He didn't wait for her answer. "Good. As it is, I should turn you over my knee for traipsing about in the darkness, but I shall refrain, because I cannot deny the fact that I'm rather happy you're here."