Hubert's complexion whitened to chalk. "The magistrate will hear nothing from me. But I meant you should not tell Sammie because I think the news would anger her. You see, she told me…" His voice trailed off and he frowned.

Eric's heart jumped into double time. "What did she tell you?"

"She said honesty is crucial and that lies destroy trust." His voice dropped to a whisper. "She said that without trust, there is nothing."

Eric clenched his teeth against the pain of Hubert's words. There was, of course, no hope that he and Samantha could ever share a future, due to his work as the Bride Thief. Nor would he ever risk her safety by telling her his identity. Yet, even if, for one wild, impossible moment he'd considered doing so, he'd clearly lose her anyway for deceiving her. Without trust there is nothing.

Hubert squared his shoulders and met his gaze unflinchingly. "I do not want my sister hurt, Lord Wesley."

"Nor do I, Hubert. I give you my word of honor that I will allow nothing to harm her."

Lifting his chin a notch, Hubert added, "She cares for you. Do not be careless with her feelings."

Admiration for the boy filled Eric even as his words slapped him with guilt. She cares for you. God help him, but he cared for her as well. Too much.

"I'll not hurt her," he assured Hubert. "I fully understand and respect your wish to protect your sister. I feel the same way about my sister. She is the reason I do… what I do."

Hubert's eyes widened. "I must say, I'd wondered why."

"Our father forced her to many. I couldn't save her, so I save others."

Understanding dawned in Hubert's gaze and they shared a long, measuring look. Then Eric slowly extended his hand. "I believe we understand each other."

Hubert firmly shook his proffered hand. "We do. And may I say that it is an honor to know you."

Some of the tension drained from Eric's shoulders. "Odd. I was just about to say the same thing to you." He released the boy's hand, then inclined his head toward the door. "I'd like to introduce our sisters. Is Miss Briggeham at home?"

"She was reading in the drawing room when I came to the Chamber."

"Excellent." Eric led the way outside, blinking to adjust his eyes to the bright sunshine. He spied Margaret sitting on a stone bench in the garden, and raised his hand in greeting. She returned his wave, then stood. She had covered half the distance between them when she halted. Her eyes widened and appeared riveted on something behind him. Turning, he looked in the direction of her fixed stare and froze. He sensed Hubert coming to stand beside him and heard the boy's quick intake of breath.

Walking toward them, her expression grim, was Samantha.

Alongside her walked Adam Straton, the magistrate.

Chapter Seventeen

As Sammie and the magistrate approached the Chamber, she tried to mask the disquiet niggling at her nerves. Mr. Straton's unannounced visit to question her further about her abduction by the Bride Thief had left her decidedly unsettled. Although his queries gave no firm indication that he suspected her of wrongdoing, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd somehow discovered her part in Miss Barrow's rescue. She'd been relieved when he'd announced his intention to leave, but as she'd escorted him toward the stables to fetch his mount, they'd spied Lord Wesley and Hubert emerging from the Chamber.

Her heart had jumped at the sight of Eric, but to her consternation, Mr. Straton had immediately changed his course and headed toward the Chamber, murmuring that he'd like a word with the earl. Struggling to keep up with his long-legged strides, Sammie noticed a woman step from the garden path to stand alongside Eric. There was no mistaking the resemblance between them, and she instantly recognized her as Eric's sister from the portrait she'd seen at Wesley Manor. She was dressed in black, and sympathy tugged at Sammie. Just this morning Mama had mentioned that Lord Wesley's sister was recently widowed.

When she and Mr. Straton joined the trio in front of the Chamber, the entire group stood motionless for several seconds, a silent tableau with a quintet of differing expressions.

Samantha tried to hide her own discomfort, but was not certain she succeeded. Hubert, she noticed, was staring at Mr. Straton, as if he'd seen a ghost. Eric's features were completely devoid of expression as he, too, looked at the magistrate. Like Hubert and Eric, his sister's gaze was riveted on the magistrate, her eyes wide, her face pale. Sammie glanced toward Mr. Straton and observed that his attention was focused on Eric's sister. For some reason the air surrounding the entire group seemed charged with tension-or perhaps it was only her anxiety making it seem so.

Eric broke the silence. Inclining his head toward her and the magistrate, he said, "Good afternoon. May I introduce my sister, Lady Darvin. This is Miss Samantha Briggeham, and I believe you already know Mr. Straton, the magistrate."

Sammie performed a curtsy then offered the woman a smile. "A pleasure to meet you."

There was no mistaking the sadness in the half-smile Lady Darvin gave her, and compassion washed over Sammie, not only for the loss of her husband, but because she recalled Eric saying his sister's marriage had not been a happy one.

"A pleasure for me as well, Miss Briggeham," said Lady Darvin, "although I believe we may have met each other years ago at some soiree or another."

Mr. Straton stepped forward and performed a stiff bow. "An honor to see you again, Lady Darvin."

Color suffused Lady Darvin's pale cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to the ground. "And you, Mr. Straton."

"My condolences on the loss of your husband."

"Thank you."

Another awkward silence fell over the group, and Sammie wondered why Eric had not mentioned his brother-in-law's death or his sister's visit, to her.

Finally Eric spoke up. "What brings you to the Briggeham home, Straton?"

"I wished to ask Miss Briggeham several more questions regarding her encounter with the Bride Thief."

Sammie bit the inside of her cheek and prayed her feelings did not show. It would never do for Mr. Straton to suspect that she knew a great deal more than she would ever tell him.

"How did those leads you were following work out?" asked Eric.

"They proved useless. But I have received new information that appears most promising."

Eric's brows rose. "Indeed? Anything you can share?"

"One of the victims who was abducted last year wrote to her family. Her father brought me the letter this morning. In it she reassured her family that she was all right. She did not reveal her whereabouts other than to say she was living in America and had recently married. The most interesting information was that she traveled to America on passage and funds provided to her by the Bride Thief the night she was kidnapped." Mr. Straton stroked his jaw. "I must say I am relieved. This new evidence at least shows that the Bride Thief did not murder the girl."

An impatient sound erupted from Sammie's lips. "Good heavens, Mr. Straton. Surely you do not believe the Bride Thief harms the women he helps. He leaves behind a note explaining as much."

He fixed a penetrating look on her. "Yes, he does. But until this letter, there's been no trace of any of his victims. I've had no proof that any of them are actually still alive-except a handful of notes from a wanted criminal."

She raised her chin a notch. "I believe I am evidence, Mr. Straton. As you can plainly see, the Bride Thief did not harm me. In fact, he took every precaution with my safety."

"Except for snatching you in the first place."

Irritation snaked through her. She opened her mouth to argue further, but Eric broke in, saying, "Surely you can use the woman's letter to locate her so she can be questioned."

Sammie's gaze snapped to Eric, dismay filling her.

The magistrate's countenance hardened. "I have already taken steps toward that end. The Bride Thief has escaped thus far, but he'll be caught soon. I'll comb the countryside until I find him."

A barely audible, yet familiar sound, caught Sammie's attention, and she glanced toward Hubert. His face appeared unnaturally pale, and he stood ramrod straight and motionless-except for the rhythmic flexing of his fingers, which produced a muffled cracking noise. It was a habit he only indulged in when greatly distressed. Clearly the magistrate's words had agitated him, a feeling she fully shared.

"The countryside?" asked Eric. "I would have thought a criminal like he would hide himself in London. There's literally thousands of buildings and alleyways in which to secret oneself. The scoundrel no doubt skulks about in the rookery or down by the docks."

Sammie clamped her lips together to keep quiet, and prayed her disappointment and distress at Eric's words did not show. Why did he have to think of the Bride Thief as a criminal and make suggestions that might lead to the man's capture? While she longed to voice her opinion, she dared not utter another word as she feared she might say too much and make the situation worse.

"I previously believed the Bride Thief would be found in London myself," Mr. Straton said, "but I'm beginning to suspect that he's a country fellow. Someone with the financial means and connections to buy these women passage to another country and provide them with enough funds to establish a new life. By all descriptions, his mount-a magnificent all-black stallion-is worth a king's ransom, and despite the huge price on his head, no one has come forward claiming to board such an animal. That leads me to believe that he has his own stable."

Eric stroked his chin and nodded slowly. "An interesting theory." A wry smile touched his lips. "I do not envy you the job of poking into every stable in the English countryside."

"I'm hoping that will not be necessary. Based on the locations where the majority of the kidnappings have occurred, I believe it's entirely possible that the brigand operates from somewhere in this general vicinity, most likely within a fifty-mile radius. With the aid of the evergrowing Bride Thief Posse, it shouldn't prove difficult to search the area."

Sammie's stomach knotted. It sounded as if the hunt were indeed tightening. If only she could somehow warn the Bride Thief… but she couldn't break her promise to him. And of course he did not need her to tell him the dangers he faced. He already knew.

"I'm considering soliciting several volunteers to assist me personally in my scrutiny of the area," Mr. Straton said, giving Eric a speculative look. "Are you interested, Lord Wesley?"

"Glad to help in any way I can," Eric said without hesitation. "I have contacts at a number of stables in the area, and many between here and Brighton. I'd be happy to make inquiries for you."

Sammie's heart plummeted. Eric was taking an active role in capturing the Bride Thief! Offering logical suggestions, the benefit of his contacts, and a willingness to volunteer. Thank goodness she'd never confided in him about her meetings with the Bride Thief.

Anguish and alarm gripped her, along with the realization that she'd made an awful mistake. How could she have fallen in love with a man whose beliefs were so opposite from her own? A man so willing to destroy the Bride Thief? And why, in spite of their divergent opinion on the matter of the Bride Thief, did she still love him? Because in every other way he's wonderful. He has never met the Bride Thief. He does not know him as you do. Perhaps if he did, he'd see him as a hero, too.

But one look at his set profile withered that hope.

Dear God, she'd never felt so torn in her life. The investigation surrounding her hero was tightening like a noose, with the man she loved assisting in the execution. An image of the Bride Thief approaching the gallows flashed in her mind, and foreboding trembled through her.

Hubert cleared his throat, yanking her attention back. "If you will excuse me, I promised my father a game of chess and I'm already late."

Everyone bid him good-bye, and he departed, walking at twice his normal speed toward the house. Sammie looked after him, filled with concern. He was clearly upset, and knowing he regarded the Bride Thief as a noble man fighting a just cause, he was obviously anxious to escape the conversation. She could hardly blame him. She longed to do so herself. But first she had several things to say to Eric.

She turned toward him… and discovered him staring at her with a concentration that stalled her breath in her lungs-that same white-hot intensity he'd focused on her as he'd explored her body. Instantly the memory of him, naked, fully aroused, kneeling between her splayed thighs flashed in her mind. Heat engulfed her as if she'd lit a match to her gown. She cast a surreptitious glance toward Lady Darvin and Mr. Straton and was relieved to note that they were busy admiring one of Mama's nearby rosebushes. Leaning as close to Eric as she dared, she whispered, "I need to speak with you. Privately."