The earl seemed startled then nodded. "That is correct. I'd quite forgotten, although she committed suicide."

"Tell me, is anyone on this list related to Lords Beechmore or Haverly?"

The earl nodded. "Ratherstone is Beechmore's uncle. Jasper is Haverly's father."

Gideon felt as if bells clanged in his head. His gut told him he'd found the link. "It cannot have escaped your notice that each of your daughter's suitors is either on this list or, in Beechmore's and Haverly's case, closely related to someone on it."

"Which proves what?" the earl asked.

"Nothing-yet. Except I find it very curious. And coincidental. And I don't believe in coincidences. Tell me, does Lord Walston have any close female relations?"

"A sister and a mother. One of them, or perhaps both of them, is traveling. In Italy, I believe. There are aunts and cousins, of course."

Gideon ran his finger over the final three names. "Count Chalon, Mr. Tate, and Mr. Standish. Who are they?"

"Friends of Eastling's."

"You are acquainted with them?"

"No. They all reside in Cornwall. Eastling's known them for years."

"Wealthy, are they?"

"Extremely. Which is why they were allowed to invest."

"Tell me about this investment," Gideon said.

"It had to do with the development of a fleet of fast ships guaranteed to cut travel time significantly. We were all keen to invest."

"How did you hear of it?"

"At my club. Actually, we were all there, except the Cornish fellows."

"Who spoke of it first?"

The earl considered then answered, "Penniwick approached me about it. At that time, Walston, Eastling, and Jasper were already involved. It seemed an excellent opportunity, and I invested."

"What was the outcome?"

"Unfortunately, the whole thing went belly up."

"So you all lost money."

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Ten thousand pounds."

Gideon stared. "Altogether, or each of you?"

"Each of us." He shot Gideon a cold stare. "Investing is a rich man's game, Mayne. None of us put in more than we could afford to lose, and we all understood the risks going in. Sometimes these things go your way, and sometimes they don't."

Gideon could only inwardly shake his head. He couldn't imagine ever possessing such an enormous sum. Nor, if he did, doing anything to jeopardize it.

"So what is your theory?" the earl asked. "That someone is targeting us?" He nodded toward the list Gideon held.

"It is certainly a good place to start. I'm going to see what I can find out about the men who live in Cornwall. See if there have been any crimes committed against their families. Did any of the other investors know them?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Only Eastling, who vouched for them."

Gideon nodded. "I'm going to warn Lord Walston to be on guard. You should also consider that your wife might be in danger."

The earl's brows rose. "Julianne was this madman's target last time."

"Yes, and he failed." Thank God. "He might switch his attention to your wife."

"Who would do this?" the earl demanded. "And why?"

"I'm not certain yet. But I intend to find out."

Before it was too late. But he felt hope now as he hadn't before. Because he not only believed that women connected to the men on the list were being targeted, he strongly suspected one of the men on the list might be the murderer, targeting the others. Given the amount of money involved, it was certainly possible. But why not simply steal the jewels? Why kill the women? What sort of twisted mind was preying on the innocent?

Four of the men were already victims. Walston and Gatesbourne were the only two who hadn't been robbed or suffered the murder of a close female. Perhaps Count Chalon, Mr. Tate, and Mr. Standish fell into that group as well, but that would take some time to ascertain-something he'd assign to Henry right away. The duke's wife had died, but not recently, and supposedly by suicide. Nor had the duke been robbed.

Gideon's gut told him one of those men was guilty. Now all he had to do was figure out which one.

Before the bastard had the chance to strike again.

Chapter 20

Glass of punch in hand, Julianne stood with Emily, Sarah, and Carolyn and surveyed the crowd milling about the duke's richly appointed drawing room. Dressed in her new sapphire blue gown from Madame Renee, she felt like a freshly bathed lamb being led to the slaughterhouse. Conversation hummed around them, the news of Lady Hart's shocking murder on everyone's lips, including her trio of friends. At least that's what Julianne surmised they were discussing, as she was too distracted looking about to be certain.

Her gaze fell upon Gideon, and her breathing hitched. He stood near a pillar, about fifteen feet away, deep in conversation with Matthew, Daniel, and Logan Jennsen. As if he felt the weight of her stare, he looked toward her. And for Julianne everyone else in the room faded away. God help her, she was miserable. And frightened. And so in love with him she could barely think properly.

He'd told her he'd remain close by during the party, and she felt comforted by his presence. He'd also told her that under no circumstances was she to venture out of his sight-a directive she had every intention of following. She thought of poor Lady Hart and the other victims, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She didn't want to meet a similar end.

Gideon had been particularly insistent as he'd been forced to relegate Caesar to the kitchen. When he'd arrived with the dog, the duke had flatly refused to allow Caesar entrance, stating that he didn't allow pets in his house. That the beast could wait for Gideon in the kitchen, or Gideon could leave as well.

"Is something amiss, Julianne?" Carolyn asked.

She forced her attention back to her friends. Only everything. "No. I was just thinking about…"-all the things I want that I cannot have-"these terrible crimes. And the announcement that will be made this evening."

Emily nodded. "I cannot believe that the wedding will take place in two days."

"Neither can I," Julianne murmured.

Silence swelled between them, then Carolyn said in a too bright voice, "You'll be a beautiful bride."

"Stunning," Emily agreed.

"And we'll all come to visit you," Carolyn said.

"Of course we will," Emily added quickly. "And you'll come to London for the season."

"And we'll write letters," Carolyn promised, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

"Lots of letters," Emily agreed. She nudged Sarah, who'd remained silent and looked troubled, with her elbow. "Won't we, Sarah?"

"Yes," Sarah said quietly.

Because Julianne knew her friends were trying to make her feel better, she tried her best to smile but feared the effort was less than successful. "Thank you. That sounds lovely."

And she wished with all her heart that she meant it.


* * *

From his post by the pillar, Gideon maintained an excellent view of the room. His gaze fell upon Julianne and, as always, his heart seemed to cough several times at the sight of her. She was listening to something one of her friends said, and his throat tightened. She looked so damn beautiful. And so damn sad. She should be smiling. All the time. She should be happy. Always.

Just then her lips curved upward, and his heart coughed once again. Bloody hell, when she smiled, she was so lovely it almost hurt to look at her.

"They're all four grinning," came Logan Jennsen's voice from directly beside him. Gideon turned. Logan was talking to him but looking at Julianne and her friends. "Makes one wonder what they're discussing."

"Something they're not supposed to be, no doubt," Lord Surbrooke said, joining them.

"Gives me shivers just to think about the mischief they could be concocting," Lord Langston chimed in. "Of course, so long as they remain in our sight, they can't get into too much trouble. I think." He turned to Gideon. "Jennsen's told you that Daniel and I want to help in any way we can. That we intend to do so."

Gideon nodded. "Lord Langston-"

"Matthew, please."

"And Daniel," Lord Surbrooke added. "We've been keeping an eye on the gentlemen Jennsen mentioned," he said in an undertone, "but so far the worst thing I've seen is Beechmore filching extra glasses of champagne."

"I was wondering," Gideon said, "have any of you heard of Count Chalon? It's a French title but he's lived in Cornwall for years."

"Never heard of him," said Matthew, while Daniel and Logan nodded in concurrence.

"And I spent a year in France before coming to England," Logan added. "Who is he?"

Instead of answering, Gideon asked, "How about a Mr. Standish or a Mr. Tate, both also of Cornwall, both wealthy and from well-respected families."

"Common names, but still I don't know of them," Daniel said.

"How wealthy?" Logan asked.

"Enough so that a loss of ten thousand pounds wouldn't distress them."

Logan's brows rose. "So extremely wealthy. Interesting that their names are unfamiliar to me, as I've made it my business to know about those in such advantageous financial positions."

"They don't spend time in London."

"Still, seems odd we've never heard of such wealthy gentlemen," Daniel said.

A humorless smile curved Logan's lips. "Exactly. Doesn't matter if they spend time in London or not. You can't hide that kind of money. At least not for long. I'd be interested in meeting these gentlemen."

Gideon was about to reply when, as if pulled by some force, his gaze shifted to where Julianne stood. She was looking at him, and he completely lost his thoughts as all his attention focused on her. For several seconds no one else existed. Then Lady Surbrooke said something to her, and she looked away from him. And he pulled in a breath he hadn't realized he'd held.

He quickly recalled his own conversation, and said, "Meeting those gentlemen-yes, I would be very interested in doing so as well. At the very least I'd like to know more about them. If you hear anything, please inform me."

Just then the music changed to a waltz. "Ah, a chance to hold my wife in my arms," Matthew said with a grin. "If you'll excuse me."

"Same for me," Daniel said. They departed together and led their wives to the dance floor, while Jennsen wandered off, murmuring, "I'll leave you to your duties."

Would the duke ask Julianne to dance? Gideon's stomach tightened at the thought. Julianne remained where she'd been before, chatting now with her mother and Lady Emily. He scanned the room but didn't see the duke. In fact, he hadn't seen the duke for at least a quarter hour.

As if the thought of him conjured up the man, Gideon's gaze fell upon him, entering the room from a side door set in the dark wood paneling. The duke looked a bit flushed, Gideon noted. And furtive. His jaw tightened with the grim certainty that within the next few minutes a woman would enter the room from that same doorway looking equally as flushed and furtive.

Unfortunately, he was proven correct when, less than two minutes later, a woman Gideon didn't recognize but whose skin bore a noticeable blush and whose gaze shifted in a stealthy manner slipped into the room. His hands clenched into fists, and he imagined them pummeling the duke to dust. The man was not only an immoral bastard but a blind fool. How could any man blessed to have Julianne as his betrothed even look at another woman?