Snug black breeches hugged her legs. Scuffed boots, slightly too large, covered her feet. A billowing white man's shirt and cravat hid her wrapped bosom. With her hair firmly tucked under a sailor's cap pulled low over her eyes, she could easily pass for a tall, slim young man. Once she donned the black coat hanging on the bedpost, no one would ever realize she was a woman, let alone a duchess.

The bedchamber door opened and Austin walked in. "All right. Everyone has departed for the theater. Are you"-he caught sight of her and his footsteps faltered- "ready?"

She turned to face him. "Yes. What do you think?"

His gaze traveled from her head to her toes, then back again. Then he approached her, his expression downright grim.

Halting directly in front of her, he said between clearly clenched teeth, "You are not leaving the house dressed like that."

She planted her hands on her hips. "May I ask why not? This is a perfect disguise. No one will guess I'm not a man."

"The hell they won't. The way those breeches fit you…" He waved his hand around his lips clamped into a flat line. "It's indecent."

"Indecent! You gave them to me!"

"I didn't know you'd look like that in them."

She tapped her booted foot. "Like what?"

"Like…" Again he waved his hand about, as if trying to conjure the word he was seeking from thin air. "Like that," he finally said.

A sigh escaped her. Clearly he was going to allow a misplaced sense of propriety to ruin their plan. Pulling the black coat from the bedpost, she slipped it on and buttoned it.

"Look," she said turning in a slow circle before him. "I'm covered from chin to knee."

He continued to glower. After she'd turned before him twice, he all but growled "That coat stays on every minute. On and buttoned. This pub we're going to where Gaspard was seen caters to a very rough crowd. The results could be disastrous should anyone there suspect you're a woman."

"I understand."

His gaze riveted on her cap. "How secure is that?"

"Like it was nailed to my head."

His expression didn't relax one iota and for a moment she feared he would truly refuse to bring her along. Arranging her features into what she hoped was studied calm, she simply stood and waited.

He finally spoke. "Let's go."

She followed him from the room, careful to hide her relief. And apprehension. She certainly didn't want to be left at home.

For she knew something important would happen tonight.


A half hour later, when the hired hack drew to a stop in front of a dilapidated building, Elizabeth drew the curtain aside several inches and peered into the darkness. Although she didn't know exactly where they were, the stench of rotting fish indicated their proximity to the riverfront. Her nostrils twitched in protest. "Are you ready, Elizabeth?"

She jerked her attention away from the window and looked across at Austin. Even in the dim light she could see his frown. Tension was all but emanating from him in dark waves. Hoping to dispel his obvious disquiet, she forced a smile. "Yes, I'm ready."

He did not return her smile. "Do you understand exactly what I want you to do?"

"Of course. If I sense anything, I'll inform you immediately."

Although she would have thought it impossible, his frown grew grimmer. "Thank you, but that is not what I meant."

A frown pinched her own brow. "I don't understand. I thought you wanted me to tell you if I felt anything."

"I do. But you must not leave my side."

"I won't. I-"

He reached out and grabbed both her hands in his, cutting off her words. His intense stare sent shivers tingling across her skin. "Promise me," he said in an urgent whisper.

"I promise, but-"

"No buts. This is an exceedingly dangerous place. I cannot protect you if you wander away from me. Is my meaning clear?"

"Perfectly. Consider me sewn to your sleeve."

He blew out a breath. "Damn it, this a not a good idea. A thousand things could go wrong."

"A thousand things could go right."

"I'm placing you in danger."

"I'm in no more danger than you."

He released her and shoved his hands through his hair. "The more I think on this whole matter, the more I'm convinced this is not a wise idea. I'm instructing the driver to take you home." He made a move to open the door.

She slapped his wrist. "No."

He quirked an ebony brow at her.

"If you make me go home, I'll simply hire another hack and return here."

His gaze bore into hers like a spear of fire. She'd never seen him this angry and although she knew he wouldn't hurt her, a chill edged down her spine at the banked fury in his eyes.

"You'll do nothing of the kind" he said very slowly and distinctly.

"I will if I must." Before he could voice another objection, she cradled his frowning face between her palms. "Do you believe I can help you?"

He studied her for a long moment and she wondered if he had any idea how the shadows in his eyes hurt her. She sensed he withheld something from her-some dark, terrible secret that ate at his soul, and she suspected he deliberately held back his feelings and thoughts from her so she'd have no chance to "see" them.

Dear God, his torment was painful to see. If only he would trust her with his secrets… and see how much she wanted, needed, to help him.

How much she loved him.

She'd never said the words, not quite ready to voice the depth of her feelings out loud and also not convinced he'd want to hear them, but dear God couldn't he see it in her eyes?

Finally he said "If I didn't believe William was alive and that you could help me find him, I never would have brought you here."

"Then let me help you. Please. I don't want you in pain any longer. Let me help you find the answers you seek. I'll stay so close to you, you'll be able to feel my every heartbeat."

She'd hoped to coax a smile from him, but his gaze remained serious. Reaching up, he slid her palms from his cheeks and intertwined their fingers, holding her hands so tightly her fingertips tingled. She could not clearly read his thoughts, but there was no mistaking his turmoil.

Just when she felt sure he was going to send her home, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a heated kiss against her fingers.

"Let's go in," he said.


The sign hanging outside the pub read the filthy swine.

The instant Elizabeth entered she decided the establishment was aptly named. The stench of sour liquor and unwashed bodies enveloped her like a noxious cloud. She fought the urge to gag brought on by the smell combined with the pungent smoke hanging heavily in the air.

Through the dimly lit interior she discerned coarse-looking men sitting at small wooden tables, hunched over grimy glasses. When she and Austin appeared in the doorway, the din of conversation ceased and everyone stared at the newcomers with suspicious, hostile eyes.

In spite of her earlier bravado, trepidation skittered through her and she inched closer to Austin. This group looked like they wouldn't hesitate to stick a knife in them if given the least provocation, but clearly the downright dangerous look in Austin's eyes kept anyone from approaching them.

"Keep your eyes downcast and don't speak," Austin said quietly. He led her to a scarred table in the farthest corner. The weight of the patrons' stares bore into her back, but conversation began humming again once they were seated.

A woman wearing a filthy, grease-splattered gown sidled up to their table. "Wot will you gentlemen be wantin'?"

Elizabeth peeked up from under the brim of her cap and pity suffused her. The woman was painfully thin and her skin was badly bruised. Daring to peek up farther, she saw that the woman's lips were swollen and a yellowish bruise marred her cheek. She stared at them through the deadest eyes Elizabeth had ever seen.

"Whiskey," Austin said. "Two."

The woman straightened and winced pressing a hand to the small of her back. "Two whiskeys it is. If you gents are lookin' fer a bit more than liquor, me name's Molly."

Elizabeth drew a deep breath. Dear God how awful that anyone would be forced to exist in such wretched surroundings. Her heart pinched in sympathy for Molly, and she wondered if the poor woman had ever known happiness.

"Are you all right?" Austin whispered.

"That woman. She's…" She shook her head and bit her lip, unable to describe such despair.

"A whore." He leaned forward. "Did you sense something from her?"

Hot tears pushed at the backs of Elizabeth's eyes. Casting surreptitious glances across the room, she saw Molly making her way through the throngs of men. Nearly every man groped her as she passed grabbing her breasts or squeezing her buttocks, but she barely reacted and her eyes remained flat.

"I felt only despair," Elizabeth whispered. "I've never seen such utter hopelessness."

"She would no doubt rob you in an instant if she thought she could. In fact, I'd wager that before we leave here she'll attempt to pick your pocket."

"If I had any coins with me, I'd gladly give them to the poor creature. Dear God Austin, she's been beaten and it looks as if she hasn't eaten a decent meal in weeks."

Just then Molly appeared and set down two grimy glasses of whiskey. Austin reached into his pocket, withdrew several coins, and laid them on the table. Not a whisper of reaction flickered in Molly's eyes.

"All right," she said in an emotionless voice. "Which one of yer is first?" Her bruised eyes suddenly narrowed to slits. "Don't be thinkin' I'll take both of yers at once, 'cause I don't do that."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, hoping her shock at such a suggestion didn't show. She couldn't begin to know the horrors that faced this poor woman on a daily basis. Pity overwhelmed her and she blinked back the tears that pooled in her eyes.