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She took them to a side door that was partially concealed by a tall English maple. Then she crouched down and put her finger to her lips, in­dicating that they should remain still. The two men looked at her with puzzlement and interest as she heaved upward, slamming her shoulder into the door. They heard a latch come undone, and Caro­line swung the door open.

"Won't the butler have heard that?" James asked.

She shook her head. "His room is too far away. The only person who lives on this side of the Hall is the housekeeper, and she's quite deaf. I've sneaked in and out this way many times. No one has ever caught on."

"You might have told us this before," Blake said.

"You'd never have gotten it right. You have to hit the door just so. It took me weeks to learn."

"And what were you doing sneaking out at night?" he demanded.

"I fail to see how that is your business."

"You became my business when you took up res­idence in my house."

"Well, I wouldn't have moved in if you hadn't kidnapped me!"

"I wouldn't have kidnapped you if you hadn't been wandering about the countryside with no thought to your own safety."

"I was certainly safer in the countryside than I was at Prewitt Hall, and you well know it."

"You wouldn't be safe in a convent," he mut­tered.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "If that isn't the most ridiculous- Oh, never mind. If you're so upset that I didn't let you open the door, here, I'll close it again and you can have a go at it"

He took a menacing step forward. "Do you know, if I strangled you here and now there's not a jury in this country that wouldn't acquit-"

"If you two lovebirds can stop snapping at each other," James cut in, "I'd like to search the study before Prewitt returns home."

Blake glared at Caroline as if this entire delay were her fault, causing her to hiss, "Don't forget that if it weren't for me-"

"If it weren't for you," he shot back, "I would be a very happy man indeed."

"We are wasting time," James reminded them. "The both of you may remain here, if you cannot cease your squabbling, but I am going in to search the south drawing room."

"I'll go first," Caroline announced, "since I know the way."

"You'll go behind me," Blake contradicted, "and give me directions as we go along."

"Oh, for the love of Saint Peter," James finally burst out, exasperation showing in every line of his body. "I'll go first, if only to shut the two of you up. Caroline, you follow and give me directions. Blake, you guard her from the rear."

The trio made their way into the house, amaz­ingly without another word except for Caroline's whispered instructions. Soon they found themselves in front of the door to the south drawing room. James pulled out an odd flat tool and inserted it in the lock.

"Will that thing really work?" Caroline whis­pered to Blake.

He nodded curtly. "Riverdale's the best. He can pick a lock faster than anyone. Here, watch. Three more seconds. One, two..."

Click. The door swung open.

"Three," James said with a slightly self-satisfied smile.

"Well done," Caroline said.

He smiled back at her. "I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me."

Blake muttered something under his breath and strode past them. "You," he said, turning around and pointing to Caroline, "don't touch anything."

"Would you like me to tell you what Oliver also did not want me to touch?" she asked, her smile patently false.

"I don't have time for games, Miss Trent."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of wasting your time."

Blake turned to James. "I'm going to kill her."

"And I'm going to kill you" James returned. "Both of you." He stepped past them and made a beeline for the desk. "Blake, you inspect the shelves. Caroline, you-well, I don't know what you should do, but try not to yell at Blake."

Blake smirked.

"He yelled at me first," Caroline muttered, well aware that she was acting juvenile.

James shook his head and went to work on the locked desk drawers. He carefully picked each lock, then examined the contents of each drawer, rear­ranging them afterward so that Oliver wouldn't no­tice they'd been tampered with. .

After about a minute, however, Caroline took pity on him and said, "You might want to concen­trate on the bottom left."

He looked back up at her with interest.

She shrugged, her head tilting to the side with the movement. "It's the one Oliver was always the most insane about. He once nearly took Farnsworth's head off just for polishing the lock."

"Couldn't you have told him this before he went through all of the other drawers?" Blake asked angrily.

"I tried," she retorted, "and you threatened to kill me."

James ignored their sniping and jimmied the lower left lock. The drawer slid open, revealing stacks of files, all of which were labeled with dates.

"What is it?" Blake asked.

James let out a low whistle. "Prewitt's ticket to the gallows."

Blake and Caroline crowded around, both eager for a look. There were perhaps three dozen files, each neatly labeled with a date. James had one of them open on the desk and was scanning the con­tents with great interest.

"What does it say?" Caroline asked.

"It documents Prewitt's illegal activities," Blake answered. "Damned stupid of him to have put it in writing."

"Oliver is terribly organized," she said. "When­ever he devises any sort of a plan he always puts it down on paper and then follows it without excep­tion."

James pointed to a sentence beginning with the initials CDL. "That must be Carlotta," he whis­pered. "But who is this?"

Caroline's eyes followed his finger to MCD. "Miles Dudley," she said.

The two men turned to face her. "Who?" they both asked.

"Miles Dudley, I should think. I don't know his middle initial, but he is the only MD of whom I can think. He is one of Oliver's closest cronies. They've known each other for years."

Blake and James shared a glance.

"I find him detestable," Caroline continued. "He is always slobbering all over the housemaids. And me. I contrive to be absent when he comes to call."

Blake turned to the marquis. "Is there enough in that file to arrest Dudley?"

"There would be," James answered, "if we could be sure MCD truly is Miles Dudley. One can't go about imprisoning people on the basis of their ini­tials."

"If you arrested Oliver," Caroline said, "I'm sure he would incriminate Mr. Dudley. They are rather good friends, but I doubt Oliver's loyalty would hold fast under such circumstances. When it comes right down to it, Oliver holds no true loyalty to any­one except himself."

"It's not a risk I'm prepared to take," Blake said grimly. "I will not rest until I see both of these trai­tors imprisoned or hanged. We need to catch both of them in action."

"Is there any way you can determine when Oliver plans his next smuggling run?" Caroline asked.

"Not," James replied, thumbing through the stack of file, "unless he's been really stupid."

Caroline leaned forward. "What about this one?" she asked, holding up a nearly empty file marked 31-7-14.

Blake grabbed it from her, leafed through the con­tents. "What an idiot!"

"I certainly shan't argue with you on the subject of Oliver's idiocy," Caroline put in, "but I must say I'm sure he wasn't expecting his office to be searched."

"One should never put this kind of information into writing," Blake said.

"Why, Ravenscroft," James said with a mischie­vous arch of his eyebrows, "with a thought process like that, you should make an excellent criminal."