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"I'd be damned surprised if he weren't."

"But as it happens," Blake said with a slightly smug smile, "I did a bit of investigating myself."

"Did you now?"

"It turns out Prewitt has an office he keeps locked at all times. Caroline wasn't allowed inside, and nei­ther was his son."

James's face spread into a wide smile. "Bull's-eye."

"Exactly." Blake tossed the dart but his aim was wide. "Well, not always exactly."

"It might be time for a little clandestine visit to Prewitt Hall," James suggested.

Blake nodded. He wanted nothing more than to wrap up this case, retire from the War Office, and embark upon his new, respectable, and boring life. "I couldn't agree more."

They found Caroline in the library, sitting under a table.

"What the hell are you doing down there?" Blake demanded.

"What? Oh, good day." She crawled out. "Do your servants dust down here? I've been sneezing up quite a storm."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I was merely going through some of these piles. I'm trying to collect all of your history books."

"I thought you weren't going to proceed in here until your ankle was better," Blake said, rather accusingly in her opinion.

"I'm not putting the books back on the shelf yet," she replied. "I'm just grouping them by subject. I'm not using my ankle at all, which, by the way, is nearly healed. I haven't used my cane even once today, and it hasn't hurt me at all." She turned to James and beamed. "Oh, and it's lovely to see you again, my lord."

The marquis smiled and bowed in her direction. "Always a pleasure, my dear Caroline."

Blake scowled. "We are here for a purpose, Miss Trent."

"It never occurred to me that you weren't." She shifted her gaze back to James. "Have you noticed

he likes to call me Miss Trent when he is irritated with me?"

"Caroline," Blake said, his voice clearly laced with warning.

"Of course," she added blithely, "when he is re­ally angry he reverts to Caroline. He probably finds it too difficult to growl my full name."

James had his hand over his mouth, presumably to staunch his laughter.

"Caroline," Blake said in a louder voice, dearly ignoring her jests, "we need your assistance."

"You do?"

"It has come time for us to gather solid evidence against Prewitt."

"Good," Caroline replied. "I should like to see him pay for his crimes."

James chuckled and said, "Bloodthirsty wench."

She turned on him with a hurt expression. "That is a terrible thing to say. I'm not in the least bit bloodthirsty. It's merely that if Oliver has been do­ing all the terrible things you say he has been do­ing-"

"Caroline, I was just teasing," James said.

"Oh, well then I'm sorry for overreacting. I should have known you wouldn't be so mean-"

"If the two of you can move past your mutual admiration," Blake said acidly, "we have important business to discuss."

Caroline and James turned to him with equally irritated expressions.

"Riverdale and I are going to break into Prewitt Hall," Blake told her. "We will need you to give us every detail about the schedules of the family and of the servants so that we may avoid detection."

"You won't need every detail," she said with a matter-of-fact shrug. "You should simply go to­night."

Both gentlemen leaned forward and stared at her with questioning eyes.

"Oliver plays cards every Wednesday evening. He never misses a game. He always wins. I think he cheats."

James and Blake shared a look, and Caroline could practically see their brains springing into ac­tion, planning their mission. "If you recall," she continued, "it was a Wednesday night when I ran away. One week ago exactly. Oliver obviously chose his card night for Percy's attempted rape. No doubt he didn't want his ears bothered by my screams."

"Will Percy be at home?" James asked.

Caroline shook her head. "He almost always goes out and gets drunk. Oliver can't abide over­indulgence of spirits. He says it makes a man weak. So Percy tipples on Wednesday nights when he can escape his father's watchful eye."

"What about the servants? How many are there?" This time, Blake asked the questions.

Caroline considered this for a moment. "Five, in total. Most are likely to be in residence. Last week Oliver gave everyone the night off, but I am certain he only did that so that none would rush to my assistance when Percy attacked me. He's terribly tightfisted when it comes to anyone other than himself, so I doubt he'd give them time off again with­out a very good reason."

"How nice to know that your rape qualified as a good reason," Blake muttered.

Caroline looked up and was astonished and just a touch delighted to see how angry he looked on her behalf. "But if you are careful," she added, "you should have no trouble avoiding them. It might be a bit confusing navigating your way around the hall, but since you'll be taking me along with-"

"We're not taking you," Blake bit off.

"But-"

"I said, we are not taking you."

"I'm sure if you just consid-"

"You will NOT be going," he roared, and even James blinked in surprise at the volume of his reply.

"Very well," Caroline said in an irritated voice. She was convinced that Blake was wrong, but it didn't seem either prudent or beneficial to her health to disagree any further.

"Don't forget that you have an injured ankle," James said gently. "You would not be able to move with your usual speed."

Caroline had a feeling that James agreed one hun­dred percent with Blake and was just trying to make her feel better -especially since she'd told them her ankle was quite healed- but she appreciated the ef­fort nonetheless. "The housekeeper is quite deaf and retires early," she told them. "You won't have to worry about her."

"Excellent," Blake said. "And the rest?"

"There are two maids, but they live in the village and go home each night to sleep. They'll be long gone by the time Oliver leaves to play cards. The groom sleeps in the stables, so you're not likely to disturb him as long as you approach the house from the opposite side. "

"A butler?" Blake prompted.

'Tarnsworth will be the most difficult. He has very keen ears and he's dreadfully loyal to Oliver. His room is on the third floor."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem, then," James said.

"Well, no, but..." Caroline's words trailed off, and she clamped her mouth into a grim line. Blake and James were talking intensely between them­selves, and she might have been a piece of furniture for all the attention they were paying her.

And then, without so much as a farewell, they walked into Blake's study, and Caroline was left sit­ting among her books. "Of all the rude-"

"Oh, Caroline?"

She looked up hopefully. Blake had poked his head back into the library. Maybe he had decided that she could go with them to Prewitt Hall after all. "Yes?"

"Do you know, but I forgot to ask you about that odd little book you carry about."

"Excuse me?"

"The one with all the odd words. Does it have anything to do with Prewitt?"

"Oh. No. Actually, I told you the truth when you asked me about it the first time. It's a little personal dictionary. I like to jot down new words. The only problem is that I often forget what they mean after I write them down."