“Where are Edward and Bakari now?”

“I don’t know.” He made a vague, sweeping gesture with his hand. “Around somewhere, I’m sure.”

Philip felt a pressure on his arm. Turning, he met Meredith’s distressed-filled gaze. “Artifacts?” she whispered. “Dear God, was that ship the Sea Raven?”

“I’m afraid so.” His insides clenched at the fear and resignation that filled her eyes.

“So that’s it, then,” she said, her voice utterly devoid of expression. “There’s no hope of finding the missing piece of stone. Which means that in less than forty-eight hours I’m going to die.”

“What’s that you say, Miss Chilton-Grizedale?” Andrew asked in a perplexed voice. “What is she talking about, Philip?”

Before Philip could reply, Edward and Bakari joined them. Like Andrew, both men’s clothing bore black, sooty streaks. “Horrible tragedy,” Edward murmured, shaking his head. “Thank God no one was killed.” He turned to Andrew. “Where did you disappear to? I haven’t seen you since the moment we arrived at the docks.”

Andrew raised his brows. “I could say the same about you.”

“Many people, much confusion,” Bakari said. He then pointed toward the water. “Look.”

They all turned toward the ship, and for the next few minutes watched in silence as the burning Sea Raven slowly slipped beneath me surface, until it disappeared completely from sight.

“All that work, all those artifacts…” Edward shook his head, then clapped a sympathetic hand on Philip’s shoulder. “A terrible loss for you, Philip.”

“None of that matters. All that matters is finding a way to break the curse. Before it’s too late.” His gaze shifted between his three friends. “Meredith has been affected by the curse.”

“What do you mean?” asked Andrew, his voice sharp.

“I mean that the wrath of this bloody curse has befallen her.”

“But how?” Edward asked. “You did not marry her.”

“No, but I asked her to marry me. And moments after I did so, she fell down, then developed a painful headache.”

Andrew, Edward, and Bakari’s gazes all shifted to Meredith, their expressions ranging from pity to dread. Not one of them suggested that perhaps her fall and the onset of the headache were merely coincidence.

“What can we do to help?” Andrew asked quietly.

“I want you to escort Meredith back to my townhouse. See that she’s comfortable, and watch over her.” Philip gave Andrew a meaningful stare, and his friend nodded, knowing that ‘watch over her’ meant not to leave her side. He turned to Meredith. “Do you wish to stop at your own residence first?”

She shook her head. “Not now. I don’t want to alarm Charlotte and Albert. Of course, I shall need to see them… soon.”

He clasped her hands. “You will be able to see them every day, for years to come.” He turned to Bakari. “I’d like you to go to my father’s townhouse and keep an eye on him and Catherine. And Edward, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d take care of making inquiries regarding the fire, and speak to the necessary authorities.”

“What are you going to do?” Meredith asked.

“I’m going to stop at the warehouse to look over the ledgers one last time. Perhaps something will inspire an idea. Then I’ll join you at my townhouse.”

With a nod and a promise to contact him later, Edward departed. Philip and Meredith followed Andrew and Bakari toward the waiting Greybourne carriage, several blocks away. After Andrew and Bakari rounded a corner, affording them a modicum of privacy, Philip stopped and pulled Meredith against him. Before she could utter a sound, he covered her mouth with his, in a hard, demanding kiss, filled with all the fear and desperation threatening to overwhelm him. She kissed him back with equal desperation, her fear palpable. Gentling the kiss, he cupped her face between his hands, then drew back to look at her.

A tiny smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Waiting to kiss me until your friends rounded the corner… how utterly respectable of you. Although I must point out that kissing me outdoors is highly scandalous.”

“Over the course of the next half dozen decades, I fully intend to do more than kiss you outdoors. I’m going to make love to you beneath the stars in a moonlit English garden. In the warmth of the Adriatic Sea. And countless places in between. Show you, and tell you, every day, how very much I love you.”

She blinked rapidly to dispel the sheen of moisture he detected in her eyes. “I shall greatly look forward to that.”

Allowing himself only one more quick taste of her, he clasped her hand, then rounded the corner, where the Greybourne carriage stood at the opposite end of the building. Waving off the footman, he opened the door himself, then handed Meredith in, helping her get settled on the seat opposite Andrew and Bakari.

“I’ll be along shortly,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“Are you not riding as far as the warehouse?” she asked.

“No. It’s not very far, and the walk will clear my head.” He turned to Andrew and Bakari. “Be careful.” With that he closed the door, then signaled the driver to depart. He watched the carriage disappear around a corner, then, firmly gripping his walking stick, he turned toward the warehouse.

Since childhood, walking had always been a soothing, comforting balm, enabling him to gather and align his thoughts in a logical, methodical way. And God knows he’d never needed that more than right now. Moving through the narrow streets, he culled through the myriad thoughts buzzing through his mind and focused on one at a time.

There was no doubt in his mind that the destruction of the Sea Raven was deliberate. Whoever had set the ship ablaze not only meant him irreparable harm, but the sheer audacity of the act proved that his enemy was growing increasingly desperate.

Who was doing this? Who was so intent upon seeing him suffer? And why? Unfortunately, Andrew’s inquiries had not resulted in an answer.

Rounding the final corner, he arrived at the warehouse. He walked along the rows of stacked crates, heading directly toward the office. He opened the desk drawer where his ledgers were stored, and froze. Lying on top of the ledger was a single, unfolded sheet of foolscap.


I have the stone you seek. You will suffer.

Twenty

Philip stared at the note, which was written in the same hand as the others, and fury and hope collided in him. Fury that this bastard was toying with him like this, but hope… God, so much hope that he was telling the truth. I have the stone you seek. That could only refer to the missing piece of the Stone of Tears. It existed. He’d wager his last farthing that it had been in the alabaster box stolen the night of the break-in-and this deranged bastard had taken it, which proved that the curse was indeed at the crux of all the attacks. You won’t have the stone for long, he silently vowed. I’m going to find you and my stone. And then make you the sorriest bastard in England.

The person responsible for this was no stranger. His were the only crates tampered with. It had to be someone who knew him. Knew where his belongings were stored. Knew the value of that piece of stone. Knew who his family and friends were… who was important to him. Of course, that could be anyone who’d sailed home with him. Everyone onboard the Dream Keeper knew Andrew, Edward, and Bakari were like brothers to him. Had heard him speak of his father and Catherine, and the fact that the crates in the ship’s hold were bound for the museum and the warehouse.

The door creaked on its hinges. “Hallo,” an adolescent male voice called out. “Is there a bloke named Greybourne about?”

“I’m Greybourne,” Philip called, hurrying toward the door. A boy about twelve years of age, garbed in dirty, torn clothing, stood in the open doorway.

“I’ve a note for ye.” His eyes narrowed. “But it’ll cost ye. Bloke what told me to deliver it said ye’d give me a ha’pence.”

Philip withdrew a coin from his pocket and flipped it in the air. The boy caught it neatly, his eyes widening at the tuppence resting in his palm. He handed over the note, then dashed away, no doubt worried that Philip would try to wrest the coin back from him. Breaking the wax seal, Philip skimmed the few lines.


Spoke to magistrate who believes a crew member careless with a cheroot caused the blaze. No witnesses able to say what happened, but he’ll make further inquiries. Have taken a room for the night at the Denby Arms to be close by should you need me. Edward.


Philip stared absently at the note. He did not agree that the fire was caused by a careless crew member. Nor did he believe anyone aboard the Sea Raven was responsible. Whoever set the blaze was the same person responsible for everything else-and that person had not just arrived today on the Sea Raven.

Folding the note and slipping it into his pocket, he continued his pacing, his mind churning out possibilities, and tossing them away just as quickly. To the best of his knowledge, he’d made no enemies onboard the ship during his sail home. He couldn’t deny he’d made a number of enemies during his travels. Had one of them followed him to England?

An image of that carriage barreling toward Meredith flashed in his mind, and his footsteps slowed. This person clearly knew that Meredith was important to him-a fact which was a very recent development. And not known by many people. In fact, the only people who knew were those closest to him-

He halted, his mind racing as an awful possibility occurred to him. No, it couldn’t be… couldn’t possibly. But the more he reflected upon the events of the past days, he realized it could be. The puzzle pieces clicked, one by one, into place in his mind, leaving the sickening truth staring him in the face. The attacks, the broken glass, the odd absences, the conversations… yes, it all fit. He dragged his hands down his face. Damn it to hell and back, what a blind, trusting fool he’d been! His blood ran cold. And what danger had he unwittingly placed Meredith in by not realizing the truth sooner?