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‘Let us hope he thinks it worth it!’ Jane said, with more cold composure than she was feeling. ‘I was telling Mademoiselle de Beaurain earlier that it is an arranged match. I pray that his Grace will put himself to the trouble!’

For a moment Samways hesitated, then showed his teeth in a yellow grin. ‘You had better pray so, miss! Now, you will stay here whilst I send to his Grace of Delahaye, telling him to meet me here to negotiate the terms of your freedom…’

With a sick flash of memory, Jane saw again that night at Vauxhall, the moonlight glinting on the knife blade. She knew what would await Alex when he came to keep the meeting. Thérèse stepped closer, as though she were afraid that Jane would faint, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

‘It will be all right, chérie…’

Jane swallowed hard. ‘What is your quarrel with Alex Delahaye, sir? If you intend to use me in your revenge I believe I have a right to know!’

For a moment she thought that Samways would refuse, but then he smiled again. ‘The man robbed me of fortune, that it what I hold against him!’

‘Robbed you?’ Jane sounded as amazed as she felt. She had not expected this.

‘Aye.’ Samways passed his handkerchief across his florid face. ‘There was a time when I was a gentleman, set fair to marry one of his Grace’s relatives! Rich she was-a rich widow ripe for the picking, and sweet enough on me to make the business easy! That was before the Duke saw fit to put an end to it and lose me a fortune into the bargain!’

‘A rich widow-’ Jane was almost whispering.

‘Aye, Lady Eleanor Fane!’ The hatred in his voice was almost tangible now. ‘That oh-so-respectable society lady was willing to throw her bonnet over the windmill for me-until Delahaye turned me off! All that fortune that would have been mine-none of this scraping and scratching a living…’

Jane sat down rather quickly, her thoughts whirling. It was an extraordinary story. The thought of the severe Lady Eleanor being thwarted from making a runaway match with an unsuitable man at least ten years her junior made the imagination boggle. Yet Samways had said that he had been a gentleman once and his hatred of Alex was all too real…

Dimly she registered that Samways was leaving and instructing one of his men to stay with the girls. Thérèse was objecting at this invasion of her home but was being overruled. The door slammed behind and the man settled himself in the armchair, fingering his knife and grinning wolfishly at Jane. Thérèse, who appeared to have accepted the situation with sudden and suspicious equanimity, was offering him a drink of wine. Jane watched as she moved across to pour it and, behind the man’s back, added some of her mother’s medicine. Jane stared, then, obedient to a fierce glare from Thérèse, looked away.

They settled down, Jane taking the pallet that Thérèse had indicated and Thérèse herself lighting another candle and sitting at the workbench as though prepared to sit out the night. The presence of Samway’s henchman prevented any kind of discussion. On the bed, the Vicomtesse sighed a little in her sleep.

For what seemed like hours, Jane lay rigid on the hard pallet, her thoughts going round and around in her head. It was bad enough to have put herself in a position where Simon could be asked for money for her safe return, but to have brought Alex into danger was an entirely different matter. She wondered whether Samways had contacted him yet, what he would do, whether he could escape the threat and if so, what would happen to her…She knew her thoughts were quite profitless but she could not escape them. A couple of tears squeezed from beneath her eyelids.

‘Jane!’ Thérèse was shaking her by the shoulder and Jane opened her eyes, dazzled for a moment by the candle flame. ‘Come quickly! He is asleep!’

‘What-?’

‘The poppy juice!’ Thérèse said impatiently. ‘I thought it would never work!’ She stood aside so that Jane could see the slumped figure of the guard, sound asleep and snoring loudly. ‘Now, listen. You must get out of that window and climb along the ledge to the end of the building. There is a staircase there that leads down to the street. Samways’s men will be about, but in the dark you may be able to slip past. If not, there is a family in the end tenement who will hide you! I would come too, only I cannot leave Maman here! I pray you will not be too late!’

‘But when he comes back…’ Jane was struggling with the stiff catch on the window. ‘What will you say, Thérèse?’

‘Oh, that I fell asleep and when I awoke you were gone! If it comes to it, Jane, I will do everything I can to help your Duke of Delahaye, but I hope-I imagine-that he is a man who can look after himself! Now, good luck and godspeed!’ She gave Jane a brief, hard hug.

Just climbing out of the window was frightful enough for Jane. She had never been afraid of heights, but in the dark she felt frighteningly exposed and alone. The ledge was wide enough to edge along very carefully but when her dress caught on a nail and pulled her back she almost lost her balance, and had to bite her lip hard to prevent herself from crying out. She found that she no longer cared if all of Samways’s men were thronging the street below as long as she could get back on to solid ground.

She reached the end of the building at last and stepped carefully down into the dark stairwell, pausing for her frightened breathing to still. There was no sound or movement close by and she began to hope that she had been undetected. The stairs were unlit and she started to creep down, feeling her way down one wall, each step a venture into the unknown.

When she got to the bottom she paused again, before peering gingerly around the corner and out into the street. It appeared to be deserted, which was odd since Samways’s men had been swarming everywhere earlier. Jane started to slip along the edge of the building, keeping in the shadows, intent only on reaching the main street and trying to find someone who could help her. She tried to blot out of her mind the dangers of wandering around London at night, the perils that might befall her, the fact that Alex might even now be walking into a trap…

She reached the end of the buildings and there was a pool of darkness before her, blacker than the surrounding night. Jane darted across, almost tripping over a kerb stone and putting out a hand blindly to break her fall. And then she was caught and held in a merciless grip, strong arms sweeping her up and away from the darkness, but she did not cry out or struggle, for as soon as he had touched her she had recognised who he was.

There was light and warmth, and someone was forcing strong spirit down her throat.

‘What the hell do we do now, Alex?’ Jane heard a voice say.

Jane coughed and opened her eyes. She was still in Alex’s arms, sitting on his knee and held close, which struck her as somewhat improper given that the other occupants of the room were Harry Marchnight and her own brother. She struggled to be free, but Alex held her tightly.

‘Jane? Has he hurt you? Are you all right?’

‘No, I am not hurt,’ Jane said crossly, ‘but for you squeezing me half to death!’

She saw Simon’s tense face ease into a smile as he exchanged a rueful look with Alex. ‘She’s quite herself,’ he observed.

Alex stood up, placing her gently in the chair opposite his.

‘We haven’t much time,’ he said. ‘You really are unhurt, Jane? Tell me the truth!’

‘Yes, truly!’ Jane was shaken and a little awed by what she saw in Alex’s face. ‘And Thérèse is quite safe, though we must not be gone long! She drugged the man who was sent to guard us, but how long he will remain unconscious is another matter-’

‘That was when you escaped?’ Henry questioned swiftly. ‘And there was only one man left in the room with you?’

Jane nodded. ‘Thérèse would not come with me because she would not leave her mother, but she should not be left to face Samways alone! He said his men were everywhere, but-’