The stupid chit told her every thought. Morgan knew then that they were becoming suspicious of him. There wasn't a shred of proof to link him to any of the women… was there? No, no, it was wrong of him to think of himself as vulnerable. He was far too cunning to ever give in to self-doubt.

He had immediately changed his plans, however. He'd worked every detail out. He would kill Alesandra for the sheer pleasure involved, then kill Colin, and on his way out he would make certain the butler never awakened.

No one was going to be able to point the finger at him. He had the perfect alibi. He was spending the night with the bitch Lorraine, and she would tell anyone who asked that he had never left her bed. He'd given her a large dose of laudanum mixed in with her drink and slipped out the back window of the whore's cottage. When she awakened from her drug-induced sleep, he would be back by her side.

Oh, yes, he'd thought of everything. He allowed himself to smile with satisfaction. He pulled the dagger out of his pocket and then reached for the doorknob.

Colin heard the squeak of the door as it opened. He was already awake and was just about to get out of bed to walk off the throbbing cramping in his leg when the muffled sound gained his attention.

He didn't waste any time waiting to hear any more noises. His instincts were screaming a warning. Someone was inside Alesandra's bedroom now and he knew it wasn't any of his staff. His servants wouldn't dare enter either bedroom without begging entrance first.

Colin moved with the speed of lightning, yet didn't make a sound. He removed the loaded pistol he kept in the drawer of the night stand, then turned back to his wife. He clamped one hand over her mouth and dragged her across the bed. His gaze and his pistol stayed centered on the connecting door.

Alesandra came awake with a start. The moonlight filtering through the windows was bright enough for her to see the look on her husband's face. His expression was terrifying. Her mind instantly cleared. Something was terribly wrong. Colin finally removed his hand from her mouth and motioned for her to go across the room. He never looked directly at her. His attention continued to be focused on the door to her chamber.

She tried to walk in front of him. He wouldn't let her. He grabbed hold of her arm and gently pushed her behind him. He followed her across the bedroom, his back to her all the while, then pushed her into the narrow corner between the wall and the heavy wardrobe. He stood in front of her, protecting her from direct attack.

She didn't have any idea how long they stood there. It seemed an eternity to her and yet she guessed only a few minutes actually had passed.

And then the door slowly opened. A shadow spilled across the carpet. A blur followed. The intruder didn't creep into the chamber but ran with a demon's speed and determination.

The low, guttural cry he made sent chills down Alesandra's spine. She squeezed her eyes shut and began to pray.

Morgan held a knife high above his head in one hand and a pistol in his other hand. Because he'd run into the room he'd almost reached the side of the bed before his mind registered the fact that it was empty. The sound he was making, that god-awful mewing, inhuman sound he couldn't seem to control, suddenly turned into an outraged roar very like that of an animal being denied its prey. Morgan knew, even before he started to turn, that Colin was there, waiting for him. He knew without a doubt he had only a second at best to save himself, but he was so very clever, so superior… he was certain the second was all he needed.

He was, after all, invincible. In one fluid motion he whirled, his pistol at the ready, his finger caressing the spring…

His death was instantaneous. The shot from Colin's pistol entered Morgan's head through his left temple. He collapsed to the floor, his eyes wide open, his weapons still clutched in his hands.

"Don't move, Alesandra."

Colin's command was harsh, clipped. She nodded, then realized his back faced her and he couldn't see her agreement. Her hands started aching. She had been clutching them tight against her bosom. She forced herself to relax.

"Be careful," she whispered in a voice so low she doubted Colin could hear her.

He walked over to the body, kicked the pistol out of Morgan's hand, then knelt down on one knee to make certain he was dead.

He let out a long sigh. His heart was pounding a furious beat. "Bastard," he muttered as he stood up. He turned back to Alesandra and reached out his hand to her. She scooted out of the comer, her gaze locked on Morgan Atkins, and slowly walked over to her husband. Colin pulled her into his arms, blocking her view.

"Don't look at him," he ordered.

"Is he dead?"

"Yes."

"Did you mean to kill him?"

"Hell, yes."

She leaned into his side. Colin could feel her trembling. "It's over now, sweetheart. He can't hurt anyone else."

"You're sure he's dead?" Her voice shivered with worry.

"I'm sure," he answered, his voice still harsh with anger.

"Why do you sound so angry?"

Colin took a deep, cleansing breath before he answered her. "It's just a reaction," he said. "The bastard had some grand plans, Alesandra. If you had been sleeping in your chamber…"

He couldn't go on. The thought of what could have happened to her was too terrifying for him to think about.

Alesandra took hold of her husband's hand and led him over to the bed. She gently pushed against his shoulders so he would sit down. "But nothing happened to me because of your instincts. You heard him in the other room, didn't you?"

Her voice was a soothing whisper. Colin had to shake his head. His wife was actually comforting him… and, damn it all, he actually needed it.

"Put your robe on, sweetheart," he told her. "I don't want you to get chilled. Are you all right?"

He pulled her onto his lap when he asked her that question. "Yes," she answered, "Are you all right?"

"Alesandra, if anything ever happened to you, I don't know what in God's name I would do. I can't imagine life without you."

"I love you, too, Colin."

Her declaration soothed him. He grunted his pleasure while he lifted her off his lap to sit on the bed beside him.

He took another deep breath, then stood up. "I'm going to wake Flannaghan and send him over to Richards. Sit here until…"

He quit his order when she bounded to her feet. "I'm going with you. I don't want to stay here with… him."

"All right, love." He draped his arm around her shoulders and started for the door.

She was shivering again. Colin didn't want the fear to catch hold of her again.

"Didn't you say you thought Morgan was a real charmer?"

She let out a gasp. "I certainly did not say such a thing. Catherine thought he was charming. I never thought so."

Colin didn't contradict her. He didn't think now was the time to remind her she'd added Morgan's name to her list of marriage candidates. She'd just get more upset.

He'd made the remark to take her attention away from the dead man they had to walk around to get out of the room. The ploy worked. Alesandra barely spared Morgan a glance. She was fully occupied frowning up at her husband. The color had come back into her face, too.

"I was suspicious of Morgan from the moment I met him," she announced. "Well, almost from the moment I met him," she added when Colin looked incredulous.

He didn't argue with her. They reached the hallway before he realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. He went back inside, put on a pair of pants, then pulled a cover off the top of the wardrobe and tossed it over Morgan. He didn't want Alesandra to see the bastard's face again. He didn't particularly want to look at him either.

Flannaghan wasn't in his room. They found him sprawled out on the steps near the foyer. Alesandra was far more upset over her butler's condition than she had been over Morgan's demise. She burst into tears and clung to Flannaghan's hand until Colin convinced her that the servant had just been knocked into a deep sleep. When Flannaghan let out a low groan, she was able to gain control of herself.

An hour later the town house was filled with visitors. Colin had flagged down a passing hack and sent the driver to fetch Sir Richards, Caine, and Nathan. The three men arrived a scant five minutes apart.

Richards questioned Flannaghan first, then sent him up to bed. Alesandra sat on the settee, flanked by Nathan on one side and Caine on the other. The two men were competing with one another in their bid to comfort her. She thought their concern was terribly sweet and therefore put up with Nathan's awkward, stinging pats and Caine's sporadic words of sympathy that didn't make much sense.

Colin walked into the salon and had to shake his head in vexation when he saw the trio. He could barely find his wife. Caine and Nathan had literally pinned her to the settee with their wide shoulders.

"Nathan, my wife can't breathe. Move. You, too, Caine."

"We're comforting her in her time of need," Caine announced.

"Damn right we are," Nathan agreed.

"It must have been quite a fright for you, Princess."

Sir Richards made that evaluation from the doorway. He hurried across the room and sat down in the chair across from her.

The director was barely put together. He'd obviously been in bed when the summons came, for his hair stood on end and his shirt was only partially tucked into his pants. His shoes didn't match, either. They were both black, but only one had the Wellington tassel. The other was bare.

"Of course it was a fright," Caine announced.

Nathan patted her on her knee again in a bid to soothe her. Alesandra looked at Colin. The sparkle in her eyes told him she was close to laughing. He thought she might be smiling, but couldn't tell, for the lower part of her face was hidden behind Caine's and Nathan's shoulders.

"Get up, Nathan. I want to sit next to my wife."

Nathan gave her one last whack before he moved to another chair. Colin immediately sat down and hauled her close to his side.

"How did you kill him?" Nathan asked then.

Caine motioned to Alesandra and shook his head at his brother-in-law. She missed that action. Since no one else seemed inclined to answer Nathan, she decided to. "One clean shot, directly through the left temple," she said.

"Colin has always been extremely accurate," Sir Richards praised.

"Were you surprised it was Morgan, Sir Richards?" she asked.

The director nodded. "I never would have thought he was capable of such foulness. Lord, I put him to work for my department. The way he bungled the one assignment he was given told me he didn't have the instincts. A sister and brother were killed because of his ineptness."

"Maybe it wasn't ineptness at all," Colin said. "Richards, you told me the sister accidentally got in the way. Now I'm wondering if Morgan deliberately killed her. He did file the report, didn't he?"

Richards leaned forward. "I'll ferret out the truth," he announced. "By God I will. What set him off tonight I wonder? Why did he suddenly come out in the open to get Alesandra. He lured the other women to a secluded spot, but came here to get her. Perhaps he'd just become bolder," he added.

"Catherine is probably the reason he took the risk," Caine interjected. "She must have told Morgan that Alesandra tried to stop her from going riding with him. Catherine does like to tell everything she knows. Perhaps Morgan jumped to the conclusion we were suspicious of him."

Nathan shook his head. "The bastard was demented."

Colin agreed with that assessment. "The sounds he made when he came running into the bedroom makes me think he was out of his mind."

"He'd taken a real liking to it."

Caine made that statement in an emphatic tone of voice.

Alesandra was appalled at the very idea that anyone could gain pleasure from another person's pain.

"We might not have ever found out the truth if he hadn't come after Alesandra tonight," Nathan said. "Neil could have gone to the gallows for two crimes he didn't commit."

"What was Morgan's connection with Lady Roberta? Was he involved with her or was she chosen at random?" Alesandra asked.

No one had a quick answer to her question. Richards decided to speculate. "It was common knowledge the viscount and his wife were having difficulties. Perhaps Morgan pounced on Roberta's vulnerability. Notes and gifts from a secret admirer were probably flattering to her."