"Lawks a-mercy! Ain't this the mort mister was plannin' to snatch?" the thin man in an ill-fitting, dingy greatcoat whispered excitedly.

His companion, a burly figure, who appeared a few years older than him, sporting an equally soiled garment, and a black muffler hanging about his short neck, returned, "Oho! Fancies this piece, ain't he? What a piece of luck!" A heavy frown descended upon his thick, sandy brows. "Yes, but, Jason, how the devil did you know 'tis she?" he demanded.

"Follow'd 'er the other day," said the man named Jason. "Mister's o'ders! Said she was abound here som'ere and I should keep my daylights on her."

"Dang me, what's the lay this time? Thought he was for that yaller-head armful?" reflected the burly man as she surveyed the unconscious figure that propped limply against the wall. He shook his head and clucked his tongue in dissatisfaction. "If these savvy culls ain't so queer in their attics! I tell you, this rig won't do! Open your ogles at her: looks to be one of 'em flash morts, see?"

Jason followed this instruction and saw nothing of significance in this statement. "Might be right, but Mister didn't say nothin' to me."

"That's 'cause you don't ask fool!"

"Well, now, Mr Ned! Y'know 'tis he who calls the tune, eh? Mum's the word for me: what mister says, I'll answer, a-men!"

"Idiot! Don't you get it? If 'tis lass is one of 'em gentries we're in a rare hobble! Lord, 'tis an abduction, al-right!" Ned told his companion wisely. "He's mad!"

Jason peered at the figure again and observed, somewhat vacuously, that her hair was quite red. Ned demanded how could he have noticed it just now? "Said you was onto her the other day, didn't you? Dang me, man, you got no head on you. No head at all!"

"At least I ain't the one who make a bumble-broth of things, Mr Ned!" objected Jason, stung.

"What the devil d'ye mean by that?" said Ned irascibly. "I ain't the one, either, so don't dare throw that to my teeth! Yes! And who was the gudgeon who scuttled off and left those cargoes behind, eh? Tell me that!"

Georgie finally stirred, her lids tremulously opened. "Lawks! She's awoke!" said Jason with a gasp, forgetting his retort.

Unfamiliar faces swarmed before her, together with the glaring light from the lamp one of them was hovering over her face. Recollection dawned and so did panic. She sat up erect, her face white as sheet. "Who—who are you? Why am I here?" she demanded shrilly.

"Well, lass, we found you unconscious in the woods," said the burly man in a more refined accent. "Don't you remember anything?"

"Hazily! There were gunshots and riders approaching — " she broke off and looked about her, wide-eyed. It looked to be like a cave and casks were strewn here and there; she had no difficulty in deciphering what was afoot. "Could it be that you are smugglers?"

"Ho! Aye! You're quick—dang quick!" said Ned indulgently. "But we prefer to be called free-traders, my hearty."

"That's right," struck in Jason, with painstaking pretensions to refined accent, "Fuh-ree-tuh-ra-dees, mah hearty!

"We were chased after by an Exciseman, see?" continued Ned. "And then we saw you sprawled on the ground in the clearing."

"Sprawl'd, mah de-er," drawled Jason. "Very shocking!"

"Oh, stow it, lad! Stow it!" barked the older man impatiently. "If you had nothing better to say, shut yer gab, will ye?" Jason begged pardon, but subsided with dark mutterings. "Parted company with that mare of yorn, did ye?" he added. "Well! Could have been scared outta wits of the gunshots. Ho! Don't get you up yet, hearty. You're done to a cow's thumb, by Jove, you are!"

Georgie indeed became aware of the sharp pain in her back and the room swirled before her. She abandoned the effort and sighed. "B-But I need to go home!" she objected faintly. "My cousin—he will come looking for me, and indeed, it was stupid of me to take flight in the middle of the night, but now he might be..." her words faded, unable to grasp her own feelings. Denver had been callous with her; dare she hope he would come after her following that heartbreaking exchange? No, he might have gone to bed, too preoccupied with his precious plans falling apart to think of her. "In any case, I should go home now! If you please, where are we? How can I go back to Braxton Park?"

The two men exchanged glances. "Can't say," said Ned discouragingly. "'Tis our hideout, see? But who is this cousin of yorn?"

"Forget about my cousin! That's none of your concern!" she returned quickly, realizing the unwisdom of disclosing it. "But sir, you scarcely need me here and I can't imagine what I could possibly contribute to your occupation other than being a burden! So if you could tell me which way to go from here, I believe I can manage quite fine."

At this juncture, Jason interrupted again to say airily, "You ain't a bur-den, mah deer. You're a prize, see? Why d'ye think we keep you?"

She stiffened. "P-Prize? You don't mean to keep me here, don't you?"

"Lordy, miss, din't I says it just now?"

"You will not keep me," she said flatly. "Besides, you don't know me and I don't have any money, and I promise you, when I get away here I will not tell anyone about your smuggled goods!"

Ned shook his head. "That won't do, lass. That won't do at all! The Mister—he's the leader of our group, see?—he's taken a fancy on you and I can see why!" There was an ugly leer in his face. "Aye, you're pretty and plucky, too, ain't you?"

"Not quite," she said, honest to a fault. "In truth I am fast becoming desperate, because I can see now that you mean mischief by me!"

"Ho-ho!" Jason exclaimed. "Lordy, but you're cool as cucumber!"

"I'm not!" she cried. "How could I be so cool when I am guarded by two brutes who will very likely murder me should I even so much as stand up?"

Jason cast a frowning look at his companion. "Did she mean us, Mr Ned?"

"Yes, slow-top! Who else?"

"Eh! But I don't do no murder, Mr Ned!" Jason protested, alarmed. "I'm a a bob cull, see? I'm a free-trader and I am only 'ere for them rum booze!"

Mr Ned told him to go to the devil. "Well, I won't! Not until Mister arrives!" Jason returned obstinately. "He'll be deuced happy with our piece of work: sure as check!"

"He is excessively stupid," remarked Georgie mulishly.

Ned beckoned them to keep quiet. "Somebody's coming!" he said and turned to Jason. "Stow the wench, quick! Her hands, too!"

This Jason did so, not without difficulty, for his captive had managed to claw the side of his face before he could tie her up and gag her mouth. He might be scrawny, but to Georgie's dismay he overpowered her very easily.

"Jason! Ned! Where the devil are you skulking now?" demanded the voice that was approaching.

"Lor' bless us! 'Tis the young shaver!" Jason ejaculated. "What should we do, Mr Ned? He don't know nothin' of this!"

Georgie, who became wide-eyed with astonishment, wiggled and desperately tried to make noises. She achieved barely a snort. Ned glanced at her impatiently then told Jason to keep a good eye at him while he talked to Mr Billy, grabbed a lamp and then was gone.

"A pretty piece of work you made, the both of you!" said the newcomer testily, who met him in the tunnel. "We lost five casks, man! Five casks! What excuse shall we make up for that? And it's as good as paid, by God!"

There was an ugly grimace in Ned's rough countenance. Mr Billy, who had recently rejoined them for some reasons, had been a deputy on behalf of the Mister. He had the devil's temper himself and worse, could be the devil himself with his pistols that they dared not cross him; but what could possibly persuade him to join the enterprise which not long ago he renounced and said he was over it, Ned could not comprehend at all. Now he was looking very displeased—too damned displeased for Ned's taste. If he found out about the lass at the depository this night might turn uglier than he likely expected. "Beg your pardon about that, sir," he said gruffly.

"Pardon? I was almost damned caught up, man! You were suppose to throw him off the track! For a while I was damned sure it would turn out to be another debacle just like in Rye," there was a deepening scowl across his young face at the memory. "Small thanks to you and your skill with barking irons for all that! What the devil were you doing when you decided to disappear? And where's that rogue Jason?"

"I didn't see him, sir. I am still waiting for him," Ned fibbed.

"Lord!" he let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, I'm tired. I should like to rest at the back first. Man the opening, Ned! And keep your senses sharp, for God's sake. No tarrying!" When he made no move, he snarled, "Well, man? What now?"

"There's something, sir — " he was cut off by a loud screech coming from the depository. Mr Billy's head snapped and without a word trod purposely to that direction. Sighing, Ned helplessly followed at his heels.

Evidently, there had been an altercation, the outcome of which was Jason lying flat on his back, his nose bleeding, and Georgie, her hands still bound behind her, on a crawling position. Her eyes, however, widened with relief as she saw the newcomer.

William stood frozen for a moment, then broke out, in liveliest astonishment,"Confound the devil! Georgie, what in the world—?" completely ignoring his injured colleague, he ran to her in a trice and took the gag off.

"Oh, William! Oh, I am so glad—!" she breathed.

"Yes, but why did you come to be here? Did they hurt you?" His hands cupped her face.

"I'm fine, truly, I am! But I think the thin man needs a little attending. Oh, dear. Is he bleeding? I might have gone a trifle overboard!"

A gleam of amusement stole his blue eyes. "Knocked him with your head, didn't you?" asked William with a grin.

"Yes! And now I feel sorry, because it must haven been prodigiously painful!"

Jason put a dingy kerchief upon his injury as Ned hovered him. "The flash mort's plucky, by Jupiter!" he exclaimed, with a grimace.

William glared at him. "You mightily deserve it, Jason! What did you do to her? If you so much as laid your finger, now—!"

"Ho! Hold your ribbons now, Mr Billy! I ain't such a cad!" Jason expostulated, a great deal hurt.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Mr Billy," put in Ned, increasingly confused. "But you ken the lady?"

"Ken? She's my cousin, confound you!"

The two men exchanged astonished glances. Jason leaned to his companion and muttered under his breath, "Cousin! My Gawd! What should we do, Mr Ned? It ain't looking pretty! By bob, it ain't!"

"Curse you, ain't you the one brewing this scheme with the Mister?" demanded Mr Ned, intent of washing his hands of this muddle. "It's a devil of a coil! When's he coming?"

"Lawks a-mercy, how should I know? He might be poppin' in any time tonight!"

"This is bad," Ned shook his head. "Nay, I can't like this trick lad, so I tell you!"

"Go away, the both of you!" said William, helping Georgie to a comfortable position. "Man the opening, Ned. And keep your senses sharp like I said! As for you, Jason, you blundering fool, I am not done with you yet! Go with Ned. I'll deal with you presently." The two lackeys went out with a great deal of grumbling.

"You have a decided air of command. I am impressed!" said Georgie in awe.

A distracted smile broke through the frown, but it was short-lived. His brows were heavy with pucker as he said, "You caught me redhanded, and there's no use dissembling! I know this is too astonishing to take in, but I am one of the free-traders 'round here."

"That is very much obvious, cousin," Georgie said softly. "I don't think any less of you for that!"

His eyes opened wide at her. "Your sensibilities aren't shock?"

"No. I told you before, I have none! So it's really no use feigning it. But tell me, William! You are in a direst scrape, aren't you?"

"You should worry about yourself first!" he said, frowning. "Now, this is way too queer! How the devil did you end up here? Did they abduct you?"

"No. Not abduct, precisely," she returned. "I was visiting Braxton Hall and then I— " she faltered and looked away. "I — we — Denver and I had a quarrel and I ran off in a huff, which I could see now is extremely foolish of me! Then when I crossed the woods everything began to feel frightening for there were gunshots and riders chasing one after another!"

"I see," he answered in a tight tone. "I was one of 'em."

"That explains it now, of course. I was thrown off from my horse then lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was already here."

"Listen to me, Georgie!" There was urgency in William's voice. "Those men—well, they are for the most part biddable, but I can't show any weakness in front of 'em, lest risking them going rogue and my neck with it!"

"But what would you if they defy you?"

"Shot them with my pistol, of course. I happen to be devilish good at it."

"You can't kill them! I don't think they're bad people for the most part!"

"Exactly! However, that doesn't mean they're good, either. You can't lower your guard. I shall contrive to let you escape from here, but not at the moment! Those damned excisemen litter the woods so I can't risk running into one of 'em."

"Of course! Pray, do not mind me, William! Were I but a weak female I would have swooned or broken into hysterics! But I am stronger than I look, and to own the truth, it is a rare adventure to encounter after all!"

"Good God, you are incorrigible! Denver should not have let you slipped like that! What was he thinking?"

"It—it was my fault, so I d-don't suppose h-he would look for me right now!" she stammered.

"Oh, would he not?" he said with a touch of irony. "Should anything happen to you, I would lay the entire blame at his door!"

"No, he is not at fault here, so don't blame him! Are you hurt somewhere? You weren't shot were you?"

"No, I am unscathed," he assured her. Then, out of the blue, he abruptly gathered her into his arms.

"William!" she gasped, considerably startled.

"Forgive me!" his voice was muffled on the crook of her neck. "I can't help myself anymore. I miss you! All these weeks not seeing you—it's too much!"

She smiled faintly. "I miss you, too! But to have met under these circumstances feels quite droll!" She felt him smile. "Thank you, William! I feel a thousand times better with you here."

He let her go but his troubled gaze lingered at her. "Georgie, there's something afoot and it puts everyone in a rare taking! The family, I mean."

She stared back at him anxiously. "What is it? Oh, tell me at once!"

"Well," he hesitated, "it started with an odd note Hugo received weeks ago—I don't refine upon it too much, but they are all kicking a dust over it. Just as I thought, it might be a hum for all we know!"

Georgie paled. Could it be that her imposture was discovered?

"I don't want to worry your head needlessly," continued William in a firmer tone. "Besides, I believe in you, cousin!"

"Of—of course," she replied in a hollow tone.

"Hey, there's a bruise on your forehead! Lord, you really did knock him with all you got, did you not? Let me examine it!" William tipped her chin up to survey the injury in a better light. "Looks nasty," he murmured. Instinctively, their gazes lock again. Georgie, her colour heightening, looked away.

Then, a flash of recollection came to his mind all of a sudden. A memory that had eluded him for a long time suddenly came before him. In a dark room, somebody was sleeping and he put his hand on... "Good God!" he whispered suddenly. "Good God, it's you!"

"What — what are you saying?" she said, wide-eyed, her tone a trifle desperate.

An unfamiliar gleam lit his eyes. He sputtered accusingly, "Rye! Last year! Oh, my God! And I have always thought I have seen your face somewhere!" He stood up and paced back and forth, his expression quite dour.

Her whole form shaking, Georgie decided that dissemblance would not bring her far and faced the inevitable. "So you—you recognize me?" Georgie asked in a quivering voice.

"Oh, yes, ma'am! I do now! And I have been a fool to have fallen into your tricks! You—you were in that room! I put my hand over your mouth—I was escaping those officers!" William covered his eyes. "Good God! You duped me — you duped us all —all this time! An impostor! That note made sense now. Somebody knows your little game and he meant to warn us!" He broke into a bitter laugh. "Oh, God! You have been jeering at us all this time, haven't you?"

"No! No! Please, hear me out William!" she pleaded, standing up, but her legs gave away. He caught her in a trice. "I am so sorry! I will explain everything, but not here, William! Please!"

He caught her wrist in a viselike grip that made her wince in pain. His eyes were menacing but Georgie met them squarely. "I will not blame you if you hurt me," she whispered achingly. He threw her arm with such force that almost tipped her over and buried his face in his hands. In a high dudgeon, William's temper was barely manageable, but he struggled to suppress it now, realizing that to burst out with wrath would serve him no purpose at all. He looked over her again. She had wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged her legs to her chest. It occurred to him that he had never seen her look so pitiable and vulnerable as she was now.

"You know I will never hurt you," he said heavily. "I can't. But tell me! Is everything Denver's idea?"

"Y-Yes," she whispered. William cursed under his breath. "So that means you have known all along about my involvement with smugglers," he said. "Why the devil did you not say anything to me?"

"I-Icouldn't bring myself to ruin our friendship," she answered in a small voice.

"Friendship be-damned!" he returned, scornful. "Must be a requirement for your role, I presume?"

"No!" she cried. "You might not believe me right now, but your companionship truly matters to me! Oh, William! You see, we are very much alike! A trifle misplaced, and wanting to find our own place..." her voice faded and she looked away. "I'm sorry! It was presumptuous of me to say that."

He gazed down at her. "Why?" he inquired, in a somewhat tumultuous voice, as if he, too, was breaking apart inside. "Why must you do this? Why must you be an impostor?"

"I will tell you, but not here, please! Believe me when I say I never wanted to hurt you—never! Oh, if you could but believe me right now, William, I would feel less wretched! Indeed, I would!" she sobbed.

For a while, he paced back and forth in abstraction, shaking his dark head a few times. "You can scarcely feel at ease now. Someone has been digging to expose your little pretense: that damned note says it all! What should you do, then?"

"I'll go away," Georgie answered weakly.

He stopped. "Oh, damn it all, it won't do! I must be mad after all!" he declared, and, much to her surprise, knelt to one knee and scooped her up. She gasped. "William! What are you doing? Put me down!"

"You can hardly walk, can you? I will see you off! You have to go back to Stanfield and not a word of this to anyone!"

"But you will be in trouble, too! Why are you helping me, William?" she asked candidly. "If you recoil from me, I would have understood it—"

"Good God, Georgie! And I thought you aren't such a henwit! It should have been obvious by now that I am in love with you!" he spluttered, turning scarlet.

"Oh!"

"Very affecting, to be sure!" the voice, more like a purr, heralded a newcomer. William stiffened and spun around.

Georgie stiffened, her countenance white as sheet. "You!" she whispered.

Mr Axel Branden, impeccably arrayed in a long black greatcoat of many capes, bowed mockingly. "Well met, Mademoiselle! You draw such a charming picture! I believe felicitations are in order, my boy?"

"For god's sake! What do you want?" William demanded irritably.

"Oh, is it not obvious? I want your burden, and you about your business."

"What the devil do you mean?"

His dark brows rose. "My dear! But I was very aware I am speaking in English. Very well, I shall be very explicit! For the past week or so I have contrived for a scheme to abduct Mademoiselle—er, Kentsville, is it not? Yes, I have done so, but Providence handed her on a silver platter to my men. So you see, it is no coincidence why she's here."

"Damn you to hell! You're not taking her with you! You'll have to shoot me first!"

A pistol was readily pointed at him as he spoke. "For which I am willing to oblige you, Mr Langford," returned Branden coolly. "You're aware that Ned and Jason are here, too, so you are exceedingly outnumbered. Now, be a good boy and hand Mademoiselle over to me! We have wasted enough time tarrying."

William tightened his hold on her. "Never!" he said obstinately.

"Then you leave me no choice."

"No! No! Please, I'll do anything you say!" Georgie shrieked. "Just let William go, sir, and I'll come willingly!"

"You are not going to decide for that!" retorted William with some asperity. She took his troubled face in her hands. "You have done a lot for me, dearest William! You can let me go now. I'll be fine!" she said calmly.

"No! You think I am afraid of him? I'd as lief let him kill me than have you!"

"Stop enacting the Cheltenham tragedy!" recommended Mr Branden in a bored tone. "Mademoiselle will come with me: she has more sense than you do, William."

"You have to let me go," Georgie said, in a firm voice this time. As he made no move to do so, she whispered urgently, "William, please! I don't want you to be hurt! And he's right: we are outnumbered. We are very helpless as it is! Only think! It will be a lot worse for the both of us if we don't follow him now!"

With much reluctance he put her on the ground. "Thank you. I am able to stand now. Mr Branden, will you let William go, please?"

He smiled languidly at her. "With pleasure, my dear."

William kissed her hand. "I'll come back for you!" he whispered fervently. "I swear it, so wait for me!" He went towards Branden and stood still. In an extremely agile motion he snatched his pistol from its holster and aimed at him, ignoring Georgie's sharp cry. Ned and Jason rushed to Branden's side and pulled theirs as well. "Have done now, Mr Billy! Mister's word is absolute! Don't want you winged, whatsoever—just leave like a good boy!" urged Ned.

"You treacherous fiend, I have done everything for you!" William told Branden with disgust and loathing. "You're not getting away from this!"

"You know William, you amaze me! She's nothing but an impostor! Surely, it's not worth spilling your noble blood?"

His eyes bulged. "Damn you!" There was a loud report. Branden, barely missing the bullet, seized the younger man in a trice and knocked the consciousness out of him.

"William! Oh, my God! What did you do?" Georgie cried shrilly, kneeling down beside the limp figure.

"Content you, my dear. He will wake up in time for the Excisemen to discover him. Come, let's get away from here."

Georgie struggled with all her strength, but it was futile. She found herself gagged and tied up again, but blindfolded this time. Mr Branden carried her effortlessly across his shoulder, and barking instructions to his two lackeys, went out into the night.

The journey seemed interminable. Totally scared out of her wits, both for her sake and William, she at least put up a brave front and weathered every bump and jolt with as much dignity as she could muster while helplessly confined around Mr Branden's arms. At some point he leaned closely to her ear and whispered intimately, "Do not worry, my sweet! You'll be able to rest when we get there." She cringed and looked away. Branden gave a low chuckle and but did not bother her again for the rest of the ride. It must be nearing to dawn; she hoped it was, for she longed to see this night over.

For a while, she pondered on why such a personage as Mr Branden would have taken a perverse interest on her and found no clue at all. The caprice of the upper class was a thing to marvel; only this time the jest had gone overboard and it truly daunted her. Then she remembered and froze. Denver! she thought wildly, Of course he wanted to lure Denver with myself as the bait! To even the scores with him? Perhaps! To kill him? There's a good chance of it! This, of course, could have been the only logical reason. No, wait! She frowned. If he knew her to be the impostor cousin then why would he think Denver rise to the bait? This would have been the perfect opportunity for his lordship to dispose her! It would have made more sense if Julia were to be in this position, though to be sure, Georgie would never dream for her to undergo such an ordeal.

The horse finally reduced to a sedate pace then to a trot, until it stopped. Branden dismounted and tethered the horse then carried her again without so much as a mite of regard for her comfort—or dignity, for that matter, she thought bitterly. A door creaked opened. She let out a sharp cry as she was tossed like a veritable sack of crop to a surprisingly soft mattress. Scrambling to sit up, and made some muffled noises behind her gag. Branden took it off. She demanded imperiously of her captor: "Where are we? Take off this blindfold, too, at once!"

"You're an impatient girl!" complained Mr Branden. He lighted a few tapers then complied to her request with an agonizing deliberateness that set Georgie's teeth. "You know," he said softly, sitting beside her on the bed, "you really are an interesting creature. My men says you're plucked to the backbone and there's nothing that turns me on so easily as spirited females. We shall deal along quiet well, I daresay."

The blindfold was rid off next. Georgie could scarcely give a whit about her surrounding as it was still dark. She could only make out a spacious chamber of dingy wallpapers and a small fireplace that was blazing with low fire. Branden cocked her chin and stared at her behind heavy-lidded dark eyes. It felt as though the very gaze was stripping her naked already. She glared. "Oh? Just as I thought, you're not half as bad after all. No wonder Monsieur Le Marquis is mad about you."

She flushed. "He's not!"

He smiled lazily at her. "My dear, trust me! I know a besotted fool when I see one! But does it not please you?"

Georgie sniffed and said coldly, "Lord Denver is not a fool, nor is he besotted. No, I am not pleased! I cannot conceive any notion why you want to keep me! You know I am an impostor, don't you?"

"Why, yes!"

"How—how did you come to discover it, sir? You hardly ever see me at all!"

"On the contrary, my love, I have been an audience to this unfolding farce longer than you could imagine," Branden disclosed. Something about that endearment reminded her of Denver and her heart squeezed. The last thing she wanted was a recollection him, and yet, as she took stock of her captor, she began to notice Branden's gestures and his manner of speaking: they were very much like Denver's... Goodness! She must have been completely addled to be thinking of such inconsequential things when she was under the direst of circumstances at the moment. But there was no denying that particular air of elegance very innate in Mr Branden; the careless arrogance and charm; and, loath though she to admit it, but the man had grace—more grace than what could have expected from a gentleman whose occupation could not have been less gentleman-like.

"You have been observing me all this time?" she asked, pardonably incredulous.

"Do you doubt it? By the bye, you have my felicitations, m'dear, to have been able to trick the lot of 'em. I have been vastly entertained. A pity that it has all come to an end," he said with a twist of a smile. "Now that I have all the evidence, I can use it at my disposal to—er, brew a little bit of trouble for his lordship."

She stiffened. "You will not! You can do mischief by me any way you want, but you will not cause any convenience to his lordship! I will not let you."

"Very indomitable, but positively foolish! Besides, how do you propose to achieve that, tied as you are?"

"I shall contrive something—somehow!"

He laughed. "Ah, you amuse me greatly, Miss Kentsville! Indeed, you do!" he leaned closer—dangerously close that Georgie could feel his breath upon her cheeks. "You may exercise your female wiles at me; perhaps that could change my mind?"

With alacrity, she scooted as far away from him as the size of the bed would allow. "No! Besides, I have none to exercise, sir, so it's no use asking it," she returned bluntly.

"Oho! And yet, you excite Lord Denver's fancy!"

Her face turned scarlet. "That could not have been farther from the truth! He could scarcely care about me, but it does not signify at all anymore!" She met his gaze squarely. "I have nothing to lose now, but he—he has everything—everything he holds dear—to lose! And I am sorry indeed to throw a rub in your way, but I will do everything in my power to prevent you from doing so!"

His eyes flickered dangerously. "But that's exactly what I wish to achieve, Miss Kentsville: to destroy everything he holds dear—and I'll start with you!"

He intended it to be menacing, but the girl did not bat an eyelash in the very least. Instead, she appeared as though she was deciphering him with that disconcertingly frank gaze of hers, and her auburn brows drawing closer together. She asked, more curios than stalling, "It has been troubling me, Mr Branden. This might sound fantastical, but I could somehow see a resemblance! What's your connection with his lordship? Why do you hate him so?"

It was his turn to stiffened. Not only plucky, but very acute, too! I shall have an interesting night with the chit, he thought with grim amusement. His long fingers slowly wrapped the dainty white neck and squeezed it tight. Georgie gasped and felt her temples pounding sharply. "You ask too many questions, my dear," he said. When he let go she was gasping for breath.

Branden stood up. "However, I'll allow you one answer. You ask me what is the nature of my connection with Denver and the truth is, I am far more involved with him and with the rest of the Dresdenhams than you could possibly ever perceive."

"H-How so?" she managed to let out hoarsely.

A hard light stole his eyes. In the flickering light, his face, though handsome, was uncompromising. "How so?" he echoed contemptuously. "Because the Marquis of Denver is my older half-brother, that's why!"

Georgie froze. She had been conjecturing of a possibly remote kinship, but little did she prepare for this shocking disclosure. "Half-brother!" she gasped in disbelief. "Oh, my God! So that makes you a—a Dresdenham, too!"

"Unfortunately, from the wrong side of the blanket," his lips curled. "Shocking, isn't it?"

"Very," she admitted, still thunderstruck. "I would never have dreamt of it—! But does Lord Denver know?"

Branden shrugged. "I do not exult in the distinction of being his relative, nor would he, if he ever knew. Whether or not he does is the least of my concern."

"If it's not your concern then why would you go to so much trouble?" she pointed out with some asperity. "You don't suppose the truth would not come out, do you?"

"Fortunately, it has not yet come to light in twenty-eight years, my dear," observed Mr Branden.

"Oh, my God! You mean to ruin them, don't you? You have nearly done so with Collin and—and William!"

"To own the truth I could not have cared less with those two. Collin is a reckless fool and I decline to have any dealings with him in the future. As for William, I have for a long time exercised a certain influence over him and he has served his purpose well—until now."

"How dare you?" she demanded wrathfully. "He could have been killed easily!"

"He won't," he returned in a bland tone. "You know, I am starting to believe that he has several lives—like a cat, if you know what I mean?" He went to a small table by the wall and pour an amber liquid on a glass. He gave to her, saying in a firm voice, "Drink this!"

She shook her head vigorously. "No! That's brandy, isn't it? That's so kind of you, but I do not drink that stuff! I'll have water, if you please."

Branden stared at her with dry amusement. "Forgive me, Mademoiselle, but as of the moment the only drink at my disposal is this brandy, which I might as well force down your throat should you ever cross my order again."

She glared at him. "But I don't drink it! You mean to get me foxed, don't you? Well I won't! I will go through my ordeal quite sober, sir, thank you very much!"

"Egad, you're mighty cool about it, don't you? I see now that you don't —at least not yet!—perceive the gravity of the situation which you are in right now, Miss Kentsville." He put the glass on the bed-table slowly and, taking off his coat and loosening his cravat, advanced purposefully to her.

Georgie, feeling her heart beating wildly in fear, hedged over until the cold wall was upon her erect back. "W-What do you mean to do?" she said tremulously.

"Oh? Afraid now, aren't you? I'd infinitely prefer your fiery temper, my dear," purred Branden.

"Do not come near me! I will scream!"

"By all means, do! You'll find that Jason and Ned are deaf to it under the circumstances.

"No! Do not touch me!" she cried, but his hand reached her leg in a trice and dragged her to him. Kicking her legs wildly, Branden broke into a curse and grunted in pain, but managed to pin her legs under the crushing weight of his knees. "Very feisty, my dear! But I should advice you not to exhaust yourself needlessly. It is futile to resist!"

Her respond was to a violent knock of her forehead against his cheek that jerked his head backwards and sucked the breath out of his person. "Damnation!" he hissed, feeling the sharp throbbing on his face. "Have done, girl! You'll find I have no patience of a saint!"

"No!" Tears stung her eyes. "No! No! Please!" But Branden was already unbuttoning her riding habit with nimble fingers. "Denver!" she shrilled on top of her lungs, in utter desperation.

There was a clamour outside. A shot was fired, a few loud curses, and a repetition of bone-splitting sound of knuckles pounding the flesh. Then a thud and silence. In a split second the door of the chamber burs open with such violence that almost disengaged it from the hinges. Then, much to their appalling shock, Jason's unconscious figure was tossed haphazardly to the floor. Branden swore.

"Ah, you'll pardon me for the mess I've made," said the Marquis of Denver coolly, emerging from the doorway. "But I have come to retrieve my girl, Branden."