If he was still alive. She dismissed the terrifying thought. "Yes, of course."

"Max," Celeste said thoughtfully, "you don't know for certain the circ.u.mstances of Sir George's death?"

"I had my secretary make inquiries." Max shrugged. "He found nothing unusual."

"Perhaps there was something that was insignificant at the time," Celeste said, "that now might prove important."

He cast her an admiring look. "Quite right." He turned to the side door, opened it, and frowned. "He's not at his desk at the moment. Odd, he usually tells me when he goes out."

"Max," Evelyn said slowly. "Only Celeste knew I was meeting Sir today. Who here knew about my meeting with Sir at the Langham?"

"Only Adrian and I. No one else."

"The man I delivered Evelyn's note to." Celeste met Max's gaze. "Might he have read it?"

"Mr. Sayers?" Max shook his head. "I doubt that."

"But if he read the note, he would know Adrian was to be at Room 327 at four o'clock," Evelyn said slowly.

"Rubbish." Max scoffed. "I trust the man completely. He's been with the department for years. His record is spotless."

"But doesn't he have access to all the records?" Evelyn asked. "If one wanted to make oneself look as trustworthy as possible, it would be a simple matter to change one's own record. And he had access to the file."

"And as it was he who allegedly looked into Sir George's death," Celeste began, "couldn't he make his report to you say whatever he wished?"

"Beyond that," Evelyn continued, "you thought from the beginning the theft of the file involved someone within the department."

Max stared at the women.

"Max." Evelyn met his gaze directly. "No one else could have possibly known about the meeting at the Langham. No one."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l." Max's expression hardened. "We might be wrong, but it's all we've got at the moment."

"As you are the only one of us who knows him, think, Max." Celeste's brow furrowed. "Where would he be holding Lord W?"

"He has a key to the warehouse," Max said slowly. "And aside from last night, we haven't used it in quite some time. But that strikes me as too obvious."

"It's only obvious if we know Sayers is the culprit," Evelyn said sharply. "Now, what shall we do?"

Quickly they devised a plan. Max left the office for a few minutes to send for some of his men and issue orders. They would meet them at the docks. It was all going entirely too slowly for Evelyn, but it couldn't be helped. Max wasted a few more minutes trying to convince the women not to accompany him. He certainly should have known better. They had once been trained agents, after all. And neither she nor Celeste would sit calmly at home and wait. It was not in the nature of either woman. There was entirely too much at stake.

"Oh, you'll need this, I suspect." Celeste pulled a small pistol from her bag. "I have mine as well."

"Yes, thank you." Evelyn hefted the gun in her hand. It had been two years since she'd held the revolver. A Webley bulldog, it wasn't as light as something more appropriate for a lady, but it was small enough to fit in a pocket. Besides, she rather liked the weight of it. Of course, she had to hold it with two hands but that only served to make her aim more accurate. With its checkered wood grips, it was a most practical firearm. She glanced at Celeste. "Loaded?"

Celeste cast her an indignant look. "Of course."

Max groaned.

"She's very good with it, Max." Celeste nodded in a smug manner. "As am I."

"And when was the last time either of you practiced?" he snapped. "It's not like riding a horse, you know. You can't get back on it and suddenly remember how to ride."

"Nonsense, Max," Evelyn said absently, still reacquainting herself with the revolver. "It is exactly like riding a horse. One never forgets this sort of thing."

Within the hour, all was ready and they prepared to leave.

"One more thing." She aimed Max a hard look. "If at all possible, I would prefer not to let Adrian know I know he's Sir."

"Very well." He threw his hands up in resignation. "I won't ask why. I don't want to know. I'll just be grateful if we all survive the night in one piece. And frankly, I'm not as worried about Adrian's welfare as I am that one of you might accidentally shoot me."

"Accidentally, Max?" Celeste grinned. "I certainly wouldn't worry about an accident."

"No, Max. If I fire this pistol ..." A grim note sounded in Evelyn's voice. "It will not be an accident."

Every minute that pa.s.sed brought Evelyn one minute closer to being a widow.

Max and Celeste continued to discuss the situation in low tones, probably to ease her apprehension. She did learn Lord Lansbury's throat had been slit, which did nothing to allay her fears.

Evelyn tried to hold the ticking clock in her head at bay, but as she sat in the carriage, on the endless way to the docks, the direst thoughts filled her head. And clutched at her heart.

She tried as well not to think about the possibility they might not find Adrian, that he might not be at the warehouse. Or the chance Sayers was not the culprit and the real villain was still unknown. She clung to the hope that their a.s.sumptions were correct. They had no others.

Still, she could not ignore the fact that if they were wrong about any of it, they might be very wrong. And it would be too late. She knew they were moving as quickly as possible, but it did not seem nearly fast enough. Evelyn had never especially been one for prayer, but at the moment, prayer was all she had. And she begged G.o.d not to let her husband go to his grave thinking she had betrayed him.

It was still twilight when they arrived at the docks. Max's men had arrived before them and had already caught the two thugs who had taken Adrian. They confirmed he was in the warehouse cellar and admitted things had not gone smoothly. It had taken his abductors much longer to transport Adrian than had been planned. But as far as they knew, he was still alive with Sayers, apparently in the same room where Evie had been held. Thank G.o.d.

Max, Celeste, and some of his men were to enter the warehouse by a back entry and then descend a back stairway. It meant they would be on the far side of the building and would have to make their way toward the front. Evelyn would retrace Adrian's steps from last night, again with several men accompanying her. It struck neither she nor Max as a particularly clever plan. Confrontation with Sayers might be disastrous, but the element of surprise might well serve their cause. And what would be more surprising than the unexpected appearance of Lady Waterston? With any luck at all, it would distract Sayers long enough for Max and the others to surround him.

The two groups separated. Evelyn counted to ten, then she and her men slipped into the warehouse. Other than last night, she'd never been here before. The weak, lingering light of twilight was of some a.s.sistance as they made their way to the stairway. She noted a faint glow of light at the bottom of the stairs. Evelyn started down, the men close at her heels. They were to wait at the foot of the stairs until needed. She pulled her gun from the pocket of her cloak and stepped into the light.

Adrian was tied in the same chair she had been. A lantern on the floor cast a wide pool of light. His gaze met hers, concern flickered in his eyes, but he didn't say a word.

"Lady Waterston," Sayers said smoothly. He stood behind Adrian, a nasty-looking knife in his hand. "How delightful to see you again."

"I fear you have the advantage over me, Mr. Sayers," she said coolly. "I don't recall meeting you."

"You wound me deeply, Lady Waterston. We met at the Spanish amba.s.sador's reception. And we danced at the masquerade. Of course, I was in costume and you had no idea it was me but a delightful dance nonetheless." He paused. "We also nearly met one other time at the British Museum. I delivered the book from Sir Maxwell. I a.s.sumed it was a private matter between you and he as I was told to find the lady with the locket that matched the cover." He chuckled. "I never imagined Sir Maxwell to be quite so romantic or discreet."

At once Evelyn realized Sayers had no idea of her connection to the department. And why would he? Adrian had had her name expunged from the records. Best to let Sayers believe she and Max were lovers.

"Discretion forbids me from comment." She forced a pleasant smile. "My husband is sitting right here, you know. How are you, darling?"

"Excellent at the moment." His brows drew together. "Bit of a headache, though. The chloroform, you know."

"Nasty stuff," she murmured.

"That's enough." Sayers glared. "This is not afternoon tea."

"But where are my manners?" Adrian said pleasantly. "I should introduce the two of you."

"As Mr. Sayers has just pointed out, we have already met."

"Ah, but you don't know his full name." Adrian paused. "Allow me to introduce Mr. Emmet Sayers Hardwell."

"Hardwell?" She frowned. "As in Sir George Hardwell?"

"Sir George was my father." Sayers smirked. "Which means you are my dear cousin. Oh, quite distant, of course, but we are relations nonetheless. Indeed, I am your only living relative."

Evelyn stared in disbelief.

"Evie, dear, Mr. Sayers or rather Mr. Hardwell has been good enough to explain everything to me." Adrian shrugged as best he could given his bonds. "As he intends to kill me, it seemed only fair."

"How very gracious of you"-she forced out the word-"cousin."

"It seems, darling, your parents did not leave you penniless after all." Adrian's tone was light. "You have quite a sizable fortune in trust that you will inherit on your thirtieth birthday."

"However," Hardwell began, "that same fortune has provided for my father and myself. I had no idea, of course. I thought my family was financially sound. As it turns out, my dear father had been taking money from your trust for, oh, as long as he had been in control of it."

"I see," she murmured. It was most interesting but not of any great concern at the moment. Still, every minute she kept him talking was another minute for Max and his men to surround him.

"I knew nothing of this until my father cut me off a few months ago. Apparently, in his declining years he had developed something of a conscience. That and the fact that he knew he would be found out when you turned thirty, which, I believe, is next week." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "Unfortunately, he pa.s.sed away that very same night."

"Helped by his loving son," Adrian added.

"Well, I would have hated to see the old man imprisoned for embezzlement." Hardwell shuddered. "He wouldn't have liked that at all."

"What a good son you are," Adrian said under his breath.

"I'm afraid I find this all most confusing." She shook her head. "I would think then that you'd want to kill me, not my husband."

"Ah, but if I were to kill you first, the inheritance would go to your husband. If I killed him after your birthday, your inheritance might well become part of his estate." He grinned in a most evil manner. The man was obviously mad as well as dangerous. "But if I kill him before you inherit, I can wait as long as I wish to kill you."

"How very clever of you, cousin."

"I thought so," he said modestly.

"You do realize I would not have come alone," she said coolly. "You will not escape this."

"On the contrary, cousin." He scoffed. "I have explored this building thoroughly. I know every entrance, every exit. And I know them in the dark. Once I dispatch your husband, I shall extinguish the light and vanish in the shadows." His tone hardened. "Admittedly, I had originally planned simply to slit his throat and throw his body in the river. It would have been much more expedient that way. But I am thoroughly prepared for the circ.u.mstances I now find myself in."

"I am sorry, cousin, to disillusion you but you cannot get away with this."

"Oh, but I can. You see ..." He lowered his voice in a confidential manner. "Your friend Sir Maxwell heads an organization that is ... how to explain it?" He thought for a moment. "Let us just say they do not work within the confines of the law. Were I to be imprisoned, even executed, I shall make certain the activities of your lover's organization were made public." He shook his head in a mournful manner. "It would be most distressing to the entire government. I cannot imagine the political repercussions. Therefore, it's in everyone's best interests to let me vanish and forget all about me. Once I am finished here, of course."

There was an obvious flaw in his plan, but the man was too smug or too mad to see it.

"My, you are clever. But you have forgotten one thing." She raised the pistol. "I have a firearm."

He chuckled. "And a charming little toy it is, too. However ..." He laid the knife against Adrian's throat. "Unless you can kill me with one shot, you will not have the chance for a second."

"One shot, oh dear." She shook her head. "That is awkward."

"At the very least," Adrian murmured.

"Do try to keep still, dear."

"I am trying." A tense note sounded in his voice. Oddly enough, his concern lessened hers and she'd never been calmer.

"Come now, cousin," Hardwell scoffed. "Your hand is already shaking."

She cupped her right hand with her left. "That's better, I think."

Hardwell laughed. "I must give you credit, cousin. You do bluff well." His eyes narrowed. "But as amusing as I find this, I am tiring of this game."

Her gaze met Hardwell's. "Do you trust me, Adrian?"

"With my life, apparently."

"Did you know I am an excellent shot, darling?"

"I do hope so, my dear."

"Even if you could make that shot," Hardwell said, "I daresay you won't shoot the only remaining member of your family."

"Oh, but you are not my family, Mr. Hardwell. My husband is." Her tone sharpened. "And if you do not drop that knife and step away right now, do not doubt for a moment, I will shoot you."

A slow, evil smile spread across his face. His hand twitched and she squeezed the trigger. The shot caught him right above the bridge of his nose. His eyes widened in surprise and the knife dropped from his hand. No more than a trickle of blood oozed from the smoking hole in his face. Odd, she'd thought there would be more blood. Slowly he crumpled to the floor.

Adrian stared in shock.

"Excellent shot." Max emerged from the shadows.

"Are you all right?" Concern sounded in Adrian's voice.

"Quite." She nodded, turned, took a few steps, doubled over, and retched.

And in the end ...

Revelation.

... but at the length truth will out.

-William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice.