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“His brother had the most to gain, although I suppose it’s possible there is another woman who was wronged and sought revenge. The new Lord Rockberry simply misidentified her.”

“You’re quite certain it wasn’t Miss Watkins?”

“From the moment I first danced with her, near ten o’clock, she never left my arms.”

“Before that?”

“Never left my sight.”

“What time did you leave the ball?”

“Half past eleven.”

“I do hope this nasty matter doesn’t come down to your word against the new Rockberry’s.”

“I shall do all in my power to ensure that it doesn’t.”

Nodding, Sir David sighed. “Right. So what is your plan?”

“Make inquiries, see if I can find this mysterious woman. If nothing comes of that, then I suspect we’ll find ourselves arresting the new Lord Rockberry.”

“Before we do that, just make bloody sure we’ve got the right of it.”

“Yes, sir. I always do.”

“I know, but I thought it bears repeating. This situation needs to be handled very delicately, Swindler.”

Swindler spent two more hours at Rockberry’s, making sketches of the room, trying to notice anything that appeared out of place. He questioned the servants. No one saw a lady arrive, so the only way she could have entered was if one of the Lords Rockberry had admitted her.

His next step would be to see if he could find another lady who’d been taken advantage of. It was always possible that she wasn’t of the nobility. He would have to give more scrutiny to Rockberry’s papers and documents. Some clue might be hidden within them. He would also talk with Catherine. She’d been of little help when it came to Elisabeth Watkins, but she might know of another lady.

But before he moved forward with the investigation, he wanted to see Eleanor again. He wanted to comfort and reassure her. He also intended to ask for her hand in marriage. He couldn’t deny that it was a hasty proposal, delivered in part to spare her reputation, but he also had to admit that he’d never been as drawn to a woman as he was to her. The hours she spent in his bed had seemed far too short. He thought it very likely that they could have a good life together.

Still in possession of Luke’s carriage, he made his way to Eleanor’s lodging house and knocked briskly on the door.

When Mrs. Potter opened it, he didn’t wait for an invitation, but simply brushed past her. “Will you please inform Miss Watkins that I have come to call?”

Mrs. Potter closed the door. “I’m afraid she’s gone, sir.”

He could well imagine Eleanor needing to walk, needing to brush off the scare she’d had that morning when she was arrested. She’d find comfort in the park, no doubt. Or perhaps she’d walked elsewhere. He could go in search of her or simply wait. He had no doubt she wouldn’t be gone long. He faced Mrs. Potter. “If you’ve no objection, I’ll wait in the parlor for her return.”

“I fear you’ll be waiting a dreadfully long time. I don’t think she’s planning to return, sir. She packed her bags. Told me not to worry about the days remaining to her, that I was welcome to hire the room out to someone else. That she’d no longer need it. She left two packages.”

Stunned beyond measure, feeling as though his body had turned to stone, Swindler watched her go into the parlor. He looked at the stairs. That was where he needed to go. He needed-

“Here, sir!”

As though someone else controlled his legs, he walked into the parlor.

“The large box there is addressed to the Duchess of Greystone. I suspect it’s the lovely gown she brought over for Miss Watkins. Then she left this for you. I suspect I know what it is as well.”

Swindler opened the velvet box and stared at the pearls that only that morning had adorned Eleanor’s lovely throat. He felt as though one of the bullies from the rookeries had plowed his fist into his gut. “Are you quite certain she’s left for good?”

“Yes, sir. Bit hard to miss when she hired a couple of lads to carry out her trunk.”

She was gone? After everything they’d shared, she was gone?

The words kept echoing through his head, blocking out all other thoughts.

She was gone.

As the train rumbled over the tracks, Eleanor stared at her reflection in the window. The deed was done. She should have seen satisfaction on her countenance, staring back at her. Instead, in spite of her best efforts, she saw a touch of regret. She shifted her gaze over to another reflection, one remarkably similar to hers.

“Why the long face, Emma?” she asked.

“I began to fall in love with him, Eleanor.”

“Well, that was a rather silly thing to do, now wasn’t it?”

Emma blushed, but then she tended to do so quite easily. It was the one area in which they differed, but no one in London would know that since neither of them had visited the town before a month ago. They’d known no one in London when they arrived. The advantage to having a reclusive father who’d never felt deserving of his title.

“What would have been the harm in me staying?” Emma asked.

“A careless word, Emma, a misstep, and we’d both find ourselves hanging from the gallows. Once we realized Mr. Swindler was following us, and you encountered him at the park, the natural course was to use him. You should be grateful for the short time you had.”

Silently Emma nodded before dropping her eyes to her gloved hands balled in her lap. He’d seemed like the answer to their prayers.

She followed the man who was following Eleanor through Cremorne Gardens. Like Eleanor, she believed he was Rockberry’s man. For good or ill, though, she couldn’t say. She’d first spotted him the night Rockberry had gone to Scotland Yard. She and Eleanor always kept an eye on each other, taking extreme care in never being seen together, but always trying to keep the other within her sight.

As she rounded the curve, she caught a glimpse of Eleanor surrounded by three men who suddenly began pulling her into the shadows. Her heart leapt into her throat. She started to rush forward, to scream when she saw the pursuer quicken his pace. By the time she was in a position to better see what was happening, he had his arm protectively around Eleanor and was obviously trying to leave the area.

Then one of the blokes took a swing-

She’d never seen a fight before, had never witnessed anyone coming to blows. The large, powerful man made short work of the bullies, and then his arm was again around Eleanor, leading her away from the men who writhed on the ground.

Her heart was pounding for a different reason now-no longer because of fear over Eleanor’s safety, but because she’d never seen anyone as magnificent as the man who’d come to her sister’s rescue.

Following them out of the gardens, always keeping to the shadows, always watchful, she arrived at the entrance just as he was helping Eleanor into a hansom cab. She saw Eleanor leave. Then the man climbed into another hansom.

“Follow her at a discreet pace.”

As the driver sent the vehicle into motion, she scurried from her hiding place and gave similar words to the driver of the hansom she entered. “Follow him.”

Just as he had, she disembarked on another street. She carefully made her way to the lodging house, again keeping to the shadows, until she spotted him observing the building. Eventually he went to the door.

After he left, she remained as she was for another hour before she saw the signal in the window-the draperies drawn closed-to indicate that Mrs. Potter had retired for the evening. It was safe to come in.

Once inside her room, she hugged Eleanor tightly. “You were accosted. I saw.”

“And I was rescued. Did you see him?” Eleanor asked, working herself free of Emma’s clinging embrace.

“Yes, of course.”

“His name is James Swindler.”

“You went with him! Do you know how dangerous that was when we know nothing about him?”