Lily backed away from the men. Her face was the color of paper, and Royal itched to pull the trigger. Oscar did as he was told, his eyes darting back and forth between Royal and the men.

"Very carefully," Savage ordered, his gun trained on Blackie, "pull that pistol out of your belt and set it on the floor."

At the thump of the weapon landing on the stones, Lily made a strangled sound and raced to Royal, who caught her in his arms. She was shaking. Her distress stirred his anger all over again. "Are you all right, my love?"

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "I am fine now that you are here."

"We need something to tie them up," Quent said, moving past Royal into the room. In minutes, he had located a length of rope. Drawing a knife from his boot, he cut it in half and tossed the other half to Night. "Make yourself useful."

Nightingale chuckled and set to work on Oscar, binding his hands behind him while Quent tied Blackie's wrists good and tight.

"All right," Royal commanded the outlaws as soon as the task was completed, "I want you both to move very slowly down the hall toward the entrance." He flicked a glance at Sherry, who backed out of the room, leading the way. Savage and Night escorted the outlaws along the passage toward the stairs and Royal and Lily fell in behind them.

They climbed the rickety wooden stairs to a dusty, board-floored entry that led out the front door of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. They had just started for the horses when a fancy black carriage rolled to a stop in the street.

"It's Loomis and McGrew!" Royal warned.

"It's a trap!" Blackie shouted before the barrel of Savage's gun slammed down on the back of his head.

Night dragged the other outlaw behind a row of empty barrels, but it was too late.

Already out of the carriage, Loomis ducked behind the wheel while McGrew pulled a pistol and fired. Quent and Sherry both fired back, their gunshots echoing against the buildings. McGrew returned fire, his shots pinging against the brick walls, but Royal and Lily, Savage and the others had all taken cover and the shots fell harmlessly around them.

Savage pulled off several rounds and so did Nightingale. Royal took careful aim, fired the pocket pistol and the huge man went down. Several more gunshots slammed into the carriage near where Loomis was hiding.

"Hold your fire!" Loomis shouted. "I'm coming out!"

Royal kept his weapon aimed at the mustached man. "Step into the open, Loomis. Put your hands in the air."

Shoving his hands into the air, Loomis rounded the carriage and moved into the middle of the street. Royal and the others came out of their positions of cover, their pistols aimed straight at him, Night pushing Oscar along in front of him.

Once it was clear the men weren't going to kill him, Loomis turned and hurried to his fallen friend.

He knelt over McGrew's huge, unmoving body, tears welling in his eyes. "You've killed him. You've killed Bart."

"No, Loomis," Royal said as he and Lily approached. "You were the one who killed him. You did it years ago when you decided to steal other people's money."

Loomis made no reply. For several moments he remained over the body of his friend, then woodenly, he walked away and simply stood there.

It was over.

"I'll fetch the other one," Savage volunteered. Gun in hand, he headed back toward the warehouse where Blackie lay moaning just outside the front door.

"How did you know where to find us?" Royal asked Sherry, who grinned, showing a couple of crooked bottom teeth.

"Your aunt Agatha. She got a ransom note telling her how much the kidnappers wanted and where to deliver the money. She did as she was instructed-except that she wasn't alone. The four of us followed her. We waited for the man Loomis sent to pick up the money and-with a little persuasion-he told us where you were being held. I didn't realize Lily had been abducted, as well."

Sherry leaned over and kissed Lily's cheek. "I'm glad you're safe, sweeting."

"Thank you for coming," she said. "Royal is lucky to have such wonderful friends." She moved toward Royal and his arms closed around her.

"It's time someone went for the police," Quent said, turning to round up his horse. He had taken only a couple of steps when a commotion down the street drew their attention. A hansom cab, traveling at breakneck speed and rocking perilously back and forth on its two wheels, came to a sliding halt in front of the warehouse. A police wagon followed, overflowing with uniformed police.

Jack Moran leaped out of the hansom, spotted Lily and started running, followed by a frazzled-looking Molly Daniels.

"Lily! Lily!"

"I'm all right," she said, letting the two of them envelop her in a big worried hug. "Bart McGrew is dead and Loomis has been captured."

"Praise God," Molly said, rolling her eyes toward the heavens.

One of the policemen spotted McGrew's body lying in the street and headed in that direction, while several more rushed toward Royal and the group in front of the warehouse.

"All right, now, what the devil is going on?" one of the policemen said.

"It's a long story, Officer," Royal told him. "I'm the Duke of Bransford. Miss Moran and I were abducted against our will by the man lying in the street and this man here." Sherry shoved Loomis forward. Just then Night and Savage appeared with the outlaws in tow.

Royal looked at the policeman, whose eyebrows had climbed nearly to his forehead. "My friends and I will be happy to explain everything."

"I should say so," the officer said grumpily and for the first time, Royal smiled.

Thirty-Two.

For the next half hour, Lily, Royal and the others explained to the police everything that had happened over the past three days, leaving out, of course, any mention of Tsaya and the swindle. They weren't worried about Loomis bringing it up. It would only add more fuel to the case against him.

When the conversation came to a close, McGrew's body was loaded into the police wagon and Loomis was taken away in chains.

Lily turned to her uncle, who stood with his arm around Molly. "How did you know where to find me, Uncle Jack?"

Molly answered for him. "Jack put the word out on the street, said he'd pay a good sum for any information about the kidnapping of his niece, or where Preston Loomis might be holding her."

"'Ol Mickey Doyle came through for me," Jack added proudly. "Wouldn't even take the money-not when you were my kin. Said two or three others had helped him figure it out. A good bunch, they are."

The chatter continued, all of them grateful for Lily and Royal's safety and Loomis's arrest. But Lily was rapidly tiring, which Royal seemed to guess.

"If you all don't mind, I'd like to see Miss Moran home." His gaze found hers across the distance between them and her heart swelled with love for him.

"Afterward," he said, moving closer, his eyes on her face, "there is a matter of grave importance I need to attend."

Freshly bathed and dressed in clean clothing, Royal knocked on the door of the Caulfields' mansion. He had sent word ahead, asking to speak to both Jocelyn and her parents.

"Do come in, Your Grace," the butler said. "I am afraid Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield are out at the moment, but Miss Caulfield awaits you in the drawing room.

Royal took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what sort of histrionics he would be facing. He just knew he would do whatever it took to be free to marry Lily.

Jocelyn rose from the sofa as he walked in. She was dressed more somberly than he would have expected, in a gown of dark green velvet and a simple white lace cap.

"Your Grace," she said, dropping into a curtsy.

"You're looking very well," he replied, but then she always did. "I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice."

She glanced down, seemed inordinately nervous. "I realize how upset you must be. A note was hardly the way to handle the matter. I would have spoken to you in person, but you had already left for the country."

He frowned, not quite following the conversation. "I beg your pardon? Did you say you sent me a note?"

"Why, yes...To Bransford Castle. I assumed you had received it. I thought that was the reason for your visit."

"No, I'm afraid that isn't why I am here. Before we begin, why don't you tell me what was in the note."

"Oh dear."

She had forgotten to offer him a seat or any sort of refreshment. Instead, both of them remained standing, which was fine with him.

Jocelyn bit her lip. She subtly squared her shoulders. "Well, I suppose there is no easy way to say it. Therefore I shall simply come out with it. I am ending our engagement, Your Grace. I realize you will be losing a great deal of money. I know about the promise you made your father, but there is simply no help for it. You see, I have fallen in love with another man."

He stood there stunned. "You are breaking our engagement?"

"I have already informed my parents. They, of course, were extremely distressed, but in time they will come to accept matters as they stand."

"You are ending our betrothal," he repeated dumbly, his heart beginning to pound.

"That is correct. So you see, you aren't really breaking your vow. You cannot marry me if I refuse to marry you."

Elation poured through him and he fought not to grin. "No, I don't suppose I could."

Her dark eyebrows drew slightly together. "So you are not terribly upset?"

He managed to keep his relief from showing. Insulting the lady was never part of his plan. "It isn't as if we were ever in love."

"No, it isn't. In truth, there is a very good chance you are in love with someone else." She cast him a look from beneath her thick dark lashes. "I realize money is an issue but I thought, perhaps, now that you are free, you might wish to marry my cousin."

Something seemed to lodge in his chest. "I've come to realize money isn't the most important thing. As to marrying your cousin..." He did grin then. "I would wish that very much." He caught her by surprise when he leaned over and kissed her very soundly on the cheek. "I didn't love you before, Jocelyn, but I love you now. You have just blessed me with the most precious gift I have ever received."

Jocelyn returned his grin. "Then we are of a mind?"

"We are, indeed. If I may ask, who is the lucky man?"

"Christopher Barclay. I believe you may know him."

"We've met on occasion. He seems a good man."

"A very good man." She glanced away, then looked back at him. "In the past few months, I, too, have come to understand that money and social position aren't the most important things. It is a hard lesson for someone like me."

"It is difficult for most of us."

"Then perhaps, one day, after all of us are wed, we might become friends."

Royal smiled. "I would like that, Miss Caulfield. I would like that very much."

Royal left the house with one thing on his mind-asking Lily to marry him. Though the afternoon was almost over and dusk beginning to fall, he didn't intend to wait. He had waited far too long already.

As his carriage rolled to a stop in Harken Lane, he saw that the light was still on in Lily's hat shop, her slender figure moving behind the counter inside. Royal wiped his damp hands on his trousers, took a deep breath and opened the door. At the sound of the bell, she whirled to face him.

"Jocelyn is marrying Christopher Barclay," he blurted out, not at all the speech he had planned. "You are mine, sweeting. Will you marry me?"

There was a woman at the counter and she stood there stunned as Lily let out a very unladylike cry of joy, lifted her skirts, rounded the counter and rushed straight into his arms.

"I love you, Royal Dewar, I love you! And I can't wait to marry you!" And then he was kissing her and they were laughing and when he looked up, the woman at the counter was wiping tears from her eyes.

He was once more engaged-this time to the right woman.

And unlike before, this time he couldn't wait to get his bride to the altar.

Thirty-Three.

The wedding at the end of May was a simple affair-at least by ducal standards. Neither Lily nor Royal had wished to wait an entire month, but Aunt Agatha had said that Lily deserved a wedding befitting the duchess she would become and insisted on paying for the entire affair.

During that month, the gardens at Bransford Castle had been trimmed and planted and returned to the way they were before they had fallen into shambles. Yellow crocus and purple pansies bloomed along the pathways and all of the trees bore lovely green leaves.

Standing on a snowy linen runner placed between rows of white lawn chairs, Lily stood next to her uncle as the wedding march began.

"Are you ready, little girl?" Jack asked, offering her his arm.

Lily gave him a teary smile, grateful to have him back in her life. "More than ready." The month she had waited to be married had been the longest of her life.

She rested a white-gloved hand on the sleeve of his coat and they started down the aisle. As she gazed out over the group of people who had come to help them celebrate the marriage, she felt a surge of gratitude. Silently, she thanked Royal's friends and family who had accepted her so readily as the woman who would become his wife.

She felt only a little shaky as she continued down the aisle, passing the rows of guests. All of Royal's closest friends were there, the Oarsmen, they called themselves: the Earl of Nightingale, wickedly handsome Jonathan Savage, ever-serious Quentin Garrett, charming Dillon St. Michaels and dashing Sheridan Knowles.

Rule Dewar was there, grinning as she passed. Only Lord Reese, Royal's middle brother, was missing, still away at war.

A little farther down the aisle, she spotted Molly Daniels seated next to Tommy Cox. Royal had given Tommy a job at the castle and he and Mugs were thrilled to be back in the country. Lily was thrilled to have them there.