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John glared at him. Of course he remembered. His father was an autocratic brute.

"That's it exactly," smirked Michel. "I knew you'd remember."

Michel was trying to ease the tension in the room, but John wouldn't be distracted. "Fine then. Westley and I are going to see the earl. Michel, get anyone you can and start looking. Search every unsavory neighborhood in London. She has to be somewhere."

Robert shook his head. "That's like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, but Michel is the man for it. Why do you think she won't be in a Quality residence?"

John sneered as he checked the ruffled cuffs that hung from his waistcoat. "He wouldn't bring the crime home to incriminate him. And he would hire someone equally stupid to do his dirty work." He grabbed Robert's arm and hauled him out the door, stopping to give further directions to Michel. "If you find her, you know what to do. Get me, if there's time. If there's not, show no mercy."

Michel nodded, perfectly at ease with the task assigned him.

As they thundered down the stairs, John shouted at Robert. "Call for a carriage."

"I may act a fool, but I'm not. I already ordered the carriage."

The butler held the front door open, and they rushed past the footman to jump in said carriage. Robert didn't have to tell them to take off. The carriage was moving before they'd settled in their seats.

John clapped Robert on the back. "Robert, quite honestly, you are the bravest, most intelligent man…you hide it well, but in situations like this, I'm thankful for it."

"Quite right…What are your plans?"

"We must have the earl on our side. I intend to tell him what we're up against. I've learned in the past that honesty works well with him, so I intend to overwhelm him with the necessity of our work and the need for speed to find Kitty. Hopefully, he will keep the betrothal intact and return home with Kitty to await me."

"A fine speech. I anticipate one problem."

John's brow rose in irritation. "What?"

"For the earl to keep the betrothal intact, he will have to come away from your talk with a renewed respect for you…and you don't even respect yourself."

John threw his arms in the air in a violent gesture. "I'm a bloody gypsy, Robert." He pointed to his earring. "There's nothing respectable about that."

"I am absolutely sick of that attitude. Look at all you accomplished for the Home Office and for the gypsies, I might add. You are a keen intelligence officer, Somerset. And you have directed your affairs adequately from miles away at great peril to your own person. I am amazed at what you accomplished to protect your future…and Kitty's too. Any other fool would have been so afraid at her loss that he would give up. But you jumped in to take charge. I am honored to call you my friend."

"I…thank you, Westley. I didn't think..."

"It is time you did. There is nothing wrong with gypsies. Some of my best friends are gypsies."

John looked at Robert with wonder, realizing that it was entirely true. Robert grinned back at him, and they both burst into laughter.

John settled into his seat again, the smile fading from his face. "We're both fools, but we're going to find that bright angel and bring her home."

Robert nodded, satisfied. "We are."

"So, you finally did something right. You have her?"

"Aye, milord. She's stashed nice and proper," promised a wheedling voice.

He felt the strain leave his body. "Ah, good. Do not kill her yet. I might need her."

A cackling sound told him that his employee held certain ideas of what that need might be. He smiled. He might try her out at that. It would infuriate the duke to know that was one more thing that had been stolen from him.

"Yes, well, my partner may want to see the goods before we dispose of the body."

A door slammed. "What's that? What body? What have you done now?"

He glared at the intruder. "What are you doing here? I did not call for you. What if someone sees you?"

The other man leaned indolently against the massive claw-footed desk. "You don't tell me what to do. I tell you. Now…what body?"

He sneered. His partner was becoming impossible to control, and if he found out about the girl, he'd want her for himself. It was time to get rid of more than one body. "I shall tell you later." He gave a meaningful glance at his newest employee. "Tell me why you've come here in the middle of the day."

Kitty burrowed into the hay as soon as she realized she'd hit the mark. It wouldn't do for someone to notice her illicit ride and draw attention to her before she escaped this neighborhood.

As the cart left the alleyway, Kitty peered through the straw at the building she'd been held in. It was a dirty brown color, unkempt, almost deserted looking. One window at the front of the house was broken. The front door listed slightly to the side, and there were several shingles missing from the roof.

Helpful things to remember when she told John about her abduction...if she could ever locate the neighborhood again. She concentrated, as the cart rolled down the street, on remembering as many details about the environment as she could. There was a pub. There was another pub. There was a bawdy house, a disreputable looking inn, and another pub.

Oh, it was hopeless. It looked like any other rank neighborhood in London. She would never remember her way.

Which was another thing. The cart was slowing. Kitty definitely did not want to get caught napping in the straw. What if the hay vendor was one of her captors? What if he yelled and made a fuss about her ride in his cart?

She slid out the back, shaking hay off her clothing and picking it out of her hair, which was in sad straits indeed. She could barely get her fingers through the tangled mess.

Kitty became aware that she attracted attention by remaining in the middle of the street. She scooted to a boardwalk of sorts and studied the people in her immediate vicinity. She didn't have a bit of coin, though none of these folk looked reputable enough to render aid anyway.

When Kitty noticed a gypsy-like individual, her heart beat faster. It wasn't John, but any gypsies would pass her along to the gypsies she sought. Well…it sounded good in principle, anyway.

Kitty approached the older man leaning on a shop pole.

"Roma?" she asked him.

A heavily made up woman passing by stopped and laughed. "Him? A Roman? Gel, he ain't never been out 'o London."

The old man scowled at Kitty, so she hurried down the walkway, glancing nervously behind her now and again.

After two more tries and no better luck, Kitty was beginning to
believe the gypsies avoided this side of London. And she still didn't know what side of London that was. It wasn't a safe neighborhood in which to ask questions.

Kitty glanced behind her, making her neck ache with fatigue. Someone was following her. Had been following her for several minutes. She knew that because she had tried walking on the other side of the street, but it hadn't mattered at all to her pursuer.

Come to think of it, this fellow looked surprisingly gypsy-ish, dark-skinned, long, black hair, earrings, and neck kerchief included.

Kitty stopped and confronted him. She poked him in the chest. "Roma?"

He poked her back. "Gorgio?"

Kitty could have cried with relief. Only a true gypsy would have called her a gentile like that. "Take me to Ardaix."

The gypsy frowned. "Who?"

Kitty felt desperate. If he truly was a gypsy, he was familiar with the caravans that were not his own. She hadn't spent her entire life around gypsies without learning a few things. Perhaps he just didn't trust her.

"Take me to Ardaix. Or Michel. Or Rasvan. Or Csinka even." Kitty didn't really want to see the crazy fortune-teller but she couldn't recall any other names, and she was becoming alarmed.

"Why?"

She was making progress. "I'm lost. And they are part of my family."

He looked skeptically at her obvious ton styled clothing, rumpled though it was. Her spring white muslin with the pert blue cornflowers was no longer pert or even serviceable, but undeniably of ton fashion.

"I know it doesn't look good, but I was kidnapped. Some stupid gorgio. You believe that, don't you?"

He grinned, causing the earrings at his ears to wave back and forth. "Come on, then." Apparently he believed anything of the gorgio.

Kitty followed him through many twists and turns, several that she suspected they were repeating. When she thought she might have to give up on him, they cut through an opening in some trees, and Kitty saw a gypsy caravan.

He paused, looking back to grin at her. It must have been obvious she was becoming skeptical of his directions.

Kitty threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank you, thank you. Is Ardaix here?"

He shook his head. "Wrong husbands. We find. You wait."

He stalked off while Kitty pondered why Ardaix was the wrong husband. Of course he was the wrong husband for her. Ardaix was already married, and she was going to marry John.

There was an unintelligible conversation going on around her. Unintelligible because she didn't understand the language the gypsies spoke, but she did understand when someone said Michel.

She nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, Michel. He's probably looking for me right now. He's supposed to watch me whenever I go out riding. Do you know where he is?"

All conversation halted. Her guide stepped toward her protectively. "Yes, Michel is looking for you. I will take you."

The others were frowning and kept their distance.

"Why are they so…fierce?"

"Other gorgio look for you. If you are found with us, and we are accused by the raior gorgio, it would not go well."

That was something she hadn't thought of. They were afraid of the gentlemen of the ton and with good reason. She tried to make her voice as calm as possible.

"I will, of course, support you in anything you have to say to the authorities. Think how marvelous your tribe will look when everyone realizes you rescued me from the bad gorgio. And the reward would help your people."

He shrugged. "All gorgios are bad."

"Surely not. We have gypsies on our land all the time. They quite like us. And Michel likes me. He's my friend. Will you take me?"

"Yes. Come."

Perhaps his loyalty to the other tribes was greater than his fear of retribution from unscrupulous gorgios. Perhaps he wanted the reward. For whatever reason, he was taking her. Kitty was relieved. Wasn't she?

John lifted his aristocratic nose in the air as held out his card, thoughtfully provided by Robert. The man was truly omniscient.

The butler, however, didn't bother to glance down. "I'm sorry. The family is not receiving visitors today."

"Show my card to the earl. He will see me. I've come about Lady Katherine."

The butler bowed, showed them into the morning room, and retreated from the room.

Robert snickered as soon as they were alone. "That was astounding. You sounded exactly like your father. You might be laying it on a bit thick for the earl, though."

"Just back me up, Westley."

"Lead on, Macduff."

John looked at Robert with amazement. The man was a continual puzzle. "I had no idea you read Shakespeare."

"Really, Somerset. You aren't the only one whose been playing a part the last few years."

The door flew back on its hinges as an irate earl and his prim countess descended upon them.

John and Robert hopped to their feet.

"Somerset! How dare you come here after what you've done? Where is my daughter? If you think kidnapping her will force me to give her to you, you are quite mad. I don't even care if you've compromised her. You shall never wed her. Kitty has enough money to live the rest of her life without any help from anyone. She doesn't have to settle for the likes of you." He waved his arms like a madman, and for once, the countess did nothing to thwart his enthusiastic speech. He turned his attention to Robert. "And you, young Westley, how you could support such a scheme…"

Robert had had enough. He turned to John. "I told you he wouldn't listen."

John held up an imperious hand, and all speech dissipated.

"Lord Raeburn, I feel that we have not an amicable beginning. Perhaps if we retired to your study, we might discuss the best way to go about finding Kitty and retrieving her from the traitors who are conspiring against our government."

Robert gave him an approving glance, but Lord Raeburn merely stared.

The countess finally acted upon John's request. "This way, gentlemen. I will have the butler provide you with refreshment. Please ring if there is anything you require." She pulled at the earl's arm. "A moment, if you please, Michael?"

The butler led them through to the earl's study. It was a catastrophe. There were papers strewn all about the room as if someone had gone to the earl's desk and whisked everything across the room with one grand sweep of the arm.

That was probably exactly what the earl had done. John only hoped the whirlwind hadn't struck upon the announcement of his arrival.

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