But if he were under suspicion, why hadn't someone brought the tale directly to him, to ensure he knew of Miss Barrow's plight rather than relying on the unpredictability of the gossip grapevine-especially if a trap was being set?

Setting his snifter on the mantel, he dragged his hands down his face and considered the other possibility… the one he'd pushed aside but could ignore no longer.

Had Samantha made up the entire tale as a way to lure out the Bride Thief so she could see him again? Could that be the "project" she'd spoken of? He recalled the words she'd spoken at the lake when he'd said she would never see the Bride Thief again. That's what you think. Damn it all, was there really a girl who needed rescuing or was it just a ruse? And if there was a girl in need, how did Samantha fit into the situation?

Part of him instantly rebelled against the idea that she would lie and spread a false story for her own means. She was too honest and straightforward.

But another part of him taunted: How else could she ever hope to see the Bride Thief again? It's a smart plan, and she's a smart woman… A woman who clearly admires your alter personality. A woman who wants to experience adventure.

A woman who wants a lover.

Searing jealousy pulsed through him and a bitter laugh escaped him. Bloody hell, he was losing his mind. He was burning up with jealousy-over himself. But there was one way to fix that.

After taking extra precautions to ensure his safety, the Bride Thief would rescue Miss Anne Barrow-if indeed she existed.

And if Miss Samantha Briggeham happened to be involved, he'd see just how familiar she hoped to become with the Bride Thief.


The following afternoon Eric reined Emperor to a halt and tipped his hat to the magistrate riding toward him.

"Good afternoon, Straton," he greeted. "Fine afternoon for a pleasurable ride."

Adam Straton tipped his hat in return. "A fine afternoon indeed, Lord Wesley. However, I'm not on a pleasure ride. I'm on my way to London. I've several new leads to follow."

Eric raised his brows. "Oh? For a new investigation or one already in progress?"

"They concern the Bride Thief investigation."

"Indeed? Have you caught the brigand?"

"Not yet. But some new information has come to my attention that I'm hoping will lead to his capture."

"Excellent. Bad having a scoundrel like him roaming about-although I haven't heard that he's stolen any brides lately."

"Last victim was Miss Briggeham," Straton agreed, "and he botched that one." His lips tightened into a grim line. "If I'd arrived only minutes earlier I might have apprehended him. Unfortunately Miss Briggeham proved a rather uncooperative witness."

"Did she?"

"Yes. Kept glaring at me and insisting the man's actions were heroic. Rather than being outraged at him, she was annoyed with me for casting aspersions on his character." He shook his head. "A most unusual woman."

Eric fought to suppress a smile. "Obviously."

"You mark my words, my lord, the Bride Thief won't be at large much longer. The botched Briggeham kidnapping proves he's growing careless. He's bound to make another mistake, and when he does, I'll be waiting."

"I wish you the best of luck, and I hope your new information proves helpful."

"As do I." Straton spent several seconds adjusting his gloves, then asked, "How is your sister faring, my lord?"

"She's coming home. I expect her within the next several days. Darvin passed away."

Straton seemed to freeze in place. He swallowed once, then said in a strained voice, "I'm sorry for her loss."

Eric didn't bother to point out that Darvin's death was no loss to anyone, least of all Margaret. "I'll be certain to pass along your condolences."

"Thank you. Good afternoon, Lord Wesley." With a curt nod, Straton applied his heels to his horse's flanks and trotted down the road leading toward London.

Filled with grim satisfaction, Eric turned Emperor toward the path leading to Wesley Manor. It would take Adam Straton at least two days in London to investigate the "information" Eric had arranged for him to receive about the Bride Thief.

It was more than enough time for Eric to carry out everything he needed to accomplish without the magistrate's sharp eyes nearby. He disliked tricking Adam, for he admired the hardworking man's honesty and integrity. But since success for Adam on this particular matter meant the hangman's noose for Eric, he managed to bury his guilt.

Just before he entered the dense forest, Eric glanced back over his shoulder. The sight of a carriage appearing from around the bend in the road leading to London made him rein Emperor to a halt. Shielding his eyes against the sun's glare, he studied the vehicle. His entire body tensed when he recognized not only the vehicle but the chestnut-haired figure inside.

What the hell was Samantha Briggeham doing riding back from London?


Hubert pounced on Sammie the instant she entered the Chamber.

"Well?" he demanded. "Were you successful?"

She patted her reticule and nodded. "I have everything right here. The money, and a ticket for passage aboard the Lady Seafarer, departing for America tomorrow morning."

"Did Cyril suspect anything?"

Guilt suffused Sammie for deceiving the loyal coachman. "No. The dear man believed I was in the bookstore the entire time."

Hubert nodded his approval. "Now let's go over the plan one more time to make sure you're prepared."

"All right." She paced in front of Hubert, ticking off each item on her fingers. "After dinner I shall claim fatigue and go to my bedchamber. Cyril retires at nine. At half after, you and I shall meet in the stables, where you'll help me saddle the horses. I'll ride Sugarcane and lead Dancer to the spot Miss Barrow indicated in her letter. I estimate it will take an hour to an hour and a half to arrive-sufficient time, as Miss Barrow is not scheduled to pass by until after midnight."

Hubert nodded. "Excellent. Go on."

"When I arrive, I'll tether Dancer so she's close to the road, but hidden from view. I'll then hide and wait for Miss Barrow's coach to approach. If the Bride Thief appears to rescue her, I'll simply remain bidden and then come home. If he doesn't appear, I'll stop the coach, claiming my horse has gone lame, and ask for help. While her coachman examines Sugarcane, I'll slip the money and ticket to Miss Barrow and tell her where to find Dancer. I'll then distract the coachman for as long as possible to give her a chance to escape."

"Have you written the directions to the ship and the instructions about where she should leave Dancer, so Cyril can retrieve her?"

"Not yet, but I shall do so before dinner. According to the agent who sold me the ticket, there is a livery within sight of the dock. Miss Barrow should have no trouble finding it." She pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "Did we leave anything out?"

"I did think of a potential problem, Sammie." His eyes turned troubled. "What if you are not able to distract the coachman long enough for Miss Barrow to escape? And even if she does manage to get away, what if he realizes she's gone? He might suspect you aided her, and then there's no telling what he might do to you."

"An excellent point." She tapped her fingers against her chin. "But what can I do? I wouldn't want to cosh the fellow."

"Indeed not. You might not hit him hard enough."

"I was actually thinking I might strike him too hard."

Hubert blinked. "Oh. Well, that would be equally as disastrous I suppose."

A wry smile curved her lips. "It's too bad he wouldn't voluntarily take a little nap until Miss Barrow was safely gone."

The instant the words left her mouth she stilled. Her eyes met Hubert's startled gaze and a long look passed between them.

"I could give you something," Hubert said, his voice low and excited. "It's derived from a combination of herbs that I developed based on my studies of South American tribes. It's very useful for putting animals such as chipmunks temporarily to sleep so I can examine them without risking injury to myself or them. It would ensure the coachman takes a nap."

"It wouldn't harm him?"

Hubert shook his head. "He'd simply fall asleep. For an hour or two."

Sammie raised her brows. "But how would I give it to him? I can't very well hand him a cup and say drink this."

"Do you have a hat pin?"

"A hatpin? Why on earth would I-"

"I'll coat the pin with the substance. All you'd have to do is stick him with it."

"And you don't think he'd notice?" she asked, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice.

"By the time he realizes it wasn't a bee sting, he'll be asleep."

A slow smile pulled at Sammies lips. "Why, Hubert. I believe you're a genius."

A pleasure-filled flush colored his cheeks. Peering at her over the rims of his glasses he asked, "Did you ever doubt it?"

"Not for a moment." Reaching out, she ruffled his unruly hair. "I believe we have now thought of everything."

"Yes… except for the fact that I'll worry horribly about you. I wish you would allow me to come with you-"

"Absolutely not. I need you to remain here to distract Mama should she discover my absence." She didn't add that she couldn't risk involving him in an outing that might prove dangerous. She grasped his hands and squeezed them tightly. "I love you for wanting to protect me, but I'll be fine. All I'm going to do is give Miss Barrow the money, instructions and ticket, and if the Bride Thief shows up, that won't even be necessary."

"In that case, it's not fair that you get to have all the fun," Hubert mumbled. "You've already seen the Bride Thief."

"And if I see him again tonight, it shall be at a distance. You make it sound as if we'll be sitting about, chatting and visiting, sipping tea and nibbling biscuits."

Hubert ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. "I know it won't be like that, but I'd still like to come."

"But you cannot." Sammie drew a deep breath. "Now that that's settled, I'm going to go write out the instructions. I'll see you at dinner." She left, closing the door gently behind her.

Hubert planted his hands on the long wooden table and blew out a long breath. He knew the real reason Sammie didn't want him to accompany her-she didn't want anything to happen to him. But devil take it, what sort of man would he be if he allowed his sister to traipse through the woods at night unescorted? Why, no sort of man at all. Something could just as easily happen to her, and then he'd never forgive himself.

Therefore, the only logical thing to do was to follow her without her knowledge. That way, he'd not only be able to protect her, but he'd have himself a grand adventure. And perhaps even learn the answer to the question that had haunted him since Sammie's kidnapping.

His gaze rested on the experiment he'd been working on for weeks. Would his idea work? He didn't know, but he'd find out tonight.

And if it did, he would discover the identity of the Bride Thief.

Chapter Thirteen

Sammie stood hidden behind a tall clump of bushes near the side of the road, running her hands gently over Sugercane's neck to keep her quiet. So far everything had gone according to plan. Her heart slapped against her ribs with such a wild combination of exhilaration and trepidation, she marveled that it simply didn't leap from her chest to land at her feet. Clouds obscured the moon, suiting her purposes perfectly. Crickets hummed nearby, and a gentle earth-scented breeze cooled her heated skin.

One way or another, within the next few minutes, Miss Barrow would be on her way to freedom. She drew several deep breaths, and a sense of anticipation tempered by calm purpose settled over her. She was doing the right thing. A young woman's life hung in the balance. Dancer was tethered to a tree several yards away, completely hidden from view. From her position behind the bushes, Sammie could see the road, but it would be nearly impossible for anyone to see her. Clutching her reticule, which contained the hat pin and all Miss Barrow would need, she peeked over the bushes and scanned the area around her.

Would the Bride Thief show up? A tingle raced through her at the thought of seeing the heroic adventurer again. For Miss Barrow's sake, she prayed he would. But if he did not, she would do her best to aid the woman.

Now all she could do was wait.

And pray all went well.