Three years ago...

Alex stared at straight through the viewing mirror. She looked over her shoulder to make certain that she was alone.

When the silence confirmed the absence of Ned and Barto, Alex finally allowed herself to smile, staring at herself, awed by the beautiful woman staring right back at her with an ecstatic glimmer in her grey eyes.

Never had she ever seen herself in a beautiful gown such as this one procured for her by the groom.

Ned and Barto's laughing voices erupted from outside the bedchamber and she immediately cleared her throat and hid her smile. But the glimmer in her eyes remained.

She was invited to a wedding in Wickhurst. And it would be bloody magical!

*****

Ralph thought he had seen the worst of Nicholas Everard a fortnight ago.

He was utterly wrong.

Today was the worst he had ever seen his older brother. Yesterday, he thought the same. So did he a day prior to yesterday.

In short, Nicholas Everard was getting worse with each passing day.

Ralph watched while Nicholas stared at the complex wall before him. Even for a Town Guard like Ralph, his brother's work was almost indecipherable. The once simple map of the Town had grown multiple colors of lines, branching from everywhere to nowhere. Notes and marks were scattered everywhere.

All of it due to one person: Sophia.

It had been months since the day of her wedding with Nicholas. After a year of tragedy between the two, after the secrets and lies, Sophia and Nicholas had finally agreed that they deserved each other, societal norms and conflicts aside.

Yet a common enemy had been lurking in the dark and waited until Sophia was on her way to the wedding. Sophia never reached the church where Nicholas was eagerly waiting.

The carriage she was taking was attacked, leaving behind the Everards' mother, Lady Alice, crying after having witnessed how her soon-to-be-daughter-in-law was snatched before her eyes.

Lady Alice did arrive outside the church. The bride was gone, replaced with a single note for all Everards:

The sweetest vengeance is given to the patient one. You take mine, I take yours. Felicitations to a wedding that never was, dear Everards.

The same note was plastered on top of Nicholas' wall, reminding his brother of that day he was supposed to be the happiest man in Wickhurst.

"There must be a way to interrogate the bastard," Nicholas muttered, his hands on his hips. He looked unkempt, his hair a mess and his shirt seemed to be the same since Ralph had last seen him which was three days ago.

Nicholas had been trying to be involved in the investigation but he was not a Town Guard, nor was he a member of the League of Founders. He was amongst the citizens that the two groups vowed to protect and it was not his task to catch whoever was responsible for Sophia's disappearance.

Ralph allowed himself to provide Nicholas with harmless information to ease his brother's mind, but he kept the most sensitive ones to himself to protect the man.

Ralph snapped out of his mental musing when Nicholas finally whirled around to face him. He drew a breath, seeing his brother's complete look of damnation.

Who would have thought that the once revered rakehell of Wickhurst would end up looking like he had been banished to hell? His hair had always been donned in perfect fashion, his clothes always within the fad, properly pressed and perfectly befitting to a rich, young, unmarried lord.

Nicholas was the dandy amongst the brothers and he had always been proud of it because he was the best to manage it without looking like a nancy.

Yet the man standing before Ralph was no longer the brother and friend he once knew. Perhaps he was still there, deep inside, waiting for his time to shine and once more be the foolish, happy Nick Everard the gentlemen enjoyed being around with and the ladies swooned for.

But Ralph could not see that happening soon.

His brother's own words weeks ago echoed in his ears.

I do not think I can ever go back. Wherever, whoever I was before her... I do not see it anymore.

As much as he wanted the old Nicholas back, Ralph knew it would not happen in an instant. No, it would even prove to be impossible.

Not until they found Sophia. Not until they found her alive.

"Surely he has other bad businesses. Surely the slave trade is not the only one," Nicholas said, glaring at Ralph as though he was the enemy, his emerald green eyes bare of the happy and ecstatic glint it had on the day of his wedding.

"It was wise of him to cease the slave operation, although we are quite certain it shall begin again soon." He paused to consider his next words. "But Nick, we are yet to establish that this is Osegod's doing."

"It had been months, Ralph. Is it not time that the lot of you establish who the culprit is? She might be somewhere waiting for all of us and you incompetent bastards have not even decided yet who took her!"

Ralph remained calm. It was not the first that Nicholas had burst out like this.

"Nick, the best way to find Sophia is to find her tracks. Another team is taking care of Osegod, ensuring that he is being investigated thoroughly, while the rest of us are searching for a sign of her. Someone had seen a colored woman being forced into a carriage merely days after Sophia was abducted from Wickhurst. We have gained something, Nick, and we merely have to be patient."

"Patient," Nicholas scoffed with derision as he turned away from Ralph as if telling him he had had enough of the Town Guards and the League. "Do you see this wall, brother?"

Ralph nodded knowing his brother did not care whether or not he did. In fact, he was certain Nicholas did not care if he was listening at all. "I see it is a bloody mess," he uttered with honesty for the wall was more of a display of frustration and despair rather than a systematic, coherent chart.

"There are no tracks, that is what I am saying!" Nicholas gritted out.

Ralph sighed. It had been months since Sophia disappeared and he himself was afraid that they were running out of time. If only Osegod would make a mistake, even a single one, perhaps they could find Sophia.

And perhaps they might find Aurora Randolph and her child as well.

*****

Alex did not go to Wickhurst where she knew she would find Ysabella and Emma, her two Everard friends.

There were a few reasons.

For one, she had never been to Wickhurst since Ysabella's wedding. She might get lost or worse, be discovered by a Guard who might recognize her.

Second, the Forest Lady had specifically asked for her to get to Nicholas Everard.

Which was another problem for Alex did not know the man. Of course, she knew of him from Ysabella and Emma's stories and she had the chance to be introduced during Ysabella's wedding, but there had been insufficient time for a decent conversation.

Although Alex knew from the stories of Ysabella and Emma that Nicholas was the easiest brother to deal with. He was the most fun as well as the twins would say, but he was also a renowned rakehell.

Was she a lover?

Was the Forest Lady a lover of Nicholas Everard? But how did she end up in the Dark Forest, beaten and dying?

Alex pulled at Siege's reigns as they neared Whiston.

She had never been inside a large estate as this one. And it was bloody intimidating to be outside, merely a few meters away from the entrance.

There were no gates, but the sight of the distant light streaming down from the large hole behind the stone mansion was enough warning to anyone with bad intentions that the estate of Whiston would not act in kind upon a threat. And the stone mansion itself seemed to be enough to tell Alex that she ought to have come prepared after all.

Help 'em... my baby... please...

Alex swallowed her reservations and shrugged off whatever intimidation the place evoked.

She was here to give Nicholas Everard the message from the Forest Lady. She would tell him about the incident in the Dark Forest.

And then she would be gone. Or perhaps she could ask the man if he would be so kind to allow her to meet his sisters for a short while before she returned to Meriwether. Or mayhap she could just send the two ladies a missive from Meriwether and meet at a much better time.

Alex led her horse into the entrance of Whiston and down the path that led to the grand driveway.

This ought to be easy.

*****

Ralph was rushing out the doorway and down the steps to where his horse was already waiting, held by a footman.

He was planning to return to Wickhurst that same afternoon to discuss the recent evidence they found. A luxurious wedding gown had been sold to a modiste in the village of Cromwell. It would have missed the Guards' attention if not for the bloody fight that happened between the mother of the bride who wanted the gown and the modiste. The pair was taken before the Guards and the origin of the gown was discussed.

The mother of the bride claimed that the gown ought not to be too expensive considering it was sold by a hermit passing by the village and the fact that it was damaged before the modiste made repairs. The modiste was adamant that the gown was from Wickhurst and had merely been used once and the damage was minimal. The materials used were of high quality and demanded for more townsends.

And it was then that the Guards started to suspect that the gown may have been the one Sophia was wearing on the day of the wedding when she was abducted. Their suspicion was made stronger when the modiste claimed to have bought the gown merely a week after Sophia disappeared.

Ralph was not too enthusiastic, considering that they were investigating a bloody gown, but he was desperate. He had asked for the gown to be taken to Wickhurst at once. His own mother could look at it and confirm if it was the same one she had had made for Sophia.

He did not tell Nicholas about the gown for he did not want to evoke hope. Should the gown prove to be Sophia's, perhaps it would only be then that Nicholas would have to know.

But for now, Nicholas had kicked him out of the study, demanding to be left alone.

"Who is that?" the footman asked the butler who was walking behind Ralph.

He looked up to see what caught the attention of the two servants. A horse was riding toward them and it seemed that the rider was not expected by the household.

He reached the bottom of the steps and watched as the footman ran to meet the rider. With a frown on his face, Ralph narrowed his eyes to see more clearly.

Bloody hell, the rider was a woman dressed in rags.

*****

"Oi, guv, careful with yer words, aye?" Alex told the footman standing below her. "I'm here te see yer master, Nicholas Everard. I'm no worker here. I know nothin' 'bout crops."

The footman cocked a brow, studying her with a look of arrogance. The bloody bastard was looking down at her while looking up at her!

"Oi, move aside. And call yer master. Tell him a friend of his sisters' is here, aye? Go on, then. What're ye waitin' for?"

But the footman merely scowled at her. "We do not accept beggars into the estate, lass. If you could kindly turn your horse around and be on your way..."

Alex gasped in disbelief. "Beggar ye say?" She scoffed, glaring at the footman. "Ye wanna make me turn ye into one, guv? I can make ye beg fer yer life, you arrogant fool."

The footman gaped at her, scandalized. "Today is not the most proper day to request for his lordship's attention, young lass. Now, please, if you could remove yourself—"

"What is going on here?" another voice asked and this time Alex recognized it.

For a second she felt her heart skip and pause before it began to race against her chest. She slanted her head to the right and found Ysabella and Emma's other brother coming toward her. His obvious lean build was covered by a cape Alex knew too well. She did not have to see the silver shield pinned over the right chest of the cape to know what it looked like.

A bloody hell. It was the Town Guard, Ralph bleedin' Everard!

"Ah, my lord!" she said with a smile. "It is lovely to see you again," she said, mustering her most decent speech.

The handsome man frowned up at her. Ah, how long had it been? He had grown bristles around his chin! He looked like a real man now, Alex mused.

"Pardon, but do I know you?"

Disappointment descended upon her like cold water from a stream. Ah, so he did not remember. Very well, then, there was no use pretending to be that woman.

"Ah, never mind, guv," she said with a wave of her hand. "I'm here to speak te yer brother."

She saw how Ralph Everard, standing beside the arrogant footman, studied her from head to foot while she was atop Siege. And it was apparent he was thinking of a kind way to make her leave.

Should she have dressed in her best clothes? But she merely had a few breeches and she did not own a bloody dress! Save for that one Ysabella's husband bothered to procure for her, of course. But it was a bloody gown and it would be entirely dramatic to arrive in Whiston wearing a bloody blue gown!

"And what business do you have with my brother?" asked Ralph Everard.

"I'm here to deliver a message, 'tis all," she replied with a shrug, lifting her chin, looking down at him and the footman.

Ralph shook his head. "My brother is currently indisposed. He does not receive visitors."

"Why the bleedin' hell not? I'm friends with Ysabella and Emma, see. Ye can go te them and ask 'em yerself, guv."

Ralph scoffed. "You wish me to go to my sisters so you can do whatever you are planning to do here in Whiston." Alex rolled her eyes. He placed his hands on his hips. "Who are you and why did you come here?"

The footman leaned close to Ralph to whisper, "She must be here to beg for—"

"Oi!" Alex uttered, jumping from Siege, surprising the footman, "I told ye I'm no beggar. And I told ye I'm willin' te turn ye into one. What do ye say, eh?"

The footman swallowed and took a step to the side. "S-she must be a b-bandit, my lord," the footman stammered.

Alex gritted her teeth and before Ralph could demand if that were true or not, she addressed him by saying, "I'm here upon a friend's request, guv, 'tis all. I dinna come here to beg fer anythin'."

"Do you need help?" Ralph asked.

She carefully thought about her answer. "Someone else does, aye."

Ralph sighed and started to turn away. "Then find someone else to help you. As I have said, my brother is currently indisposed."

"But 'tis a matter of life 'n death. Two lives are at—"

"Then find a Guard to help you. The Lord of Whiston is not a Guard. I am one, but I refuse to offer my services at this time. Go find a Guard in Wickhurst." Ralph Everard was already walking away while the footman was preparing to block her path as she started to follow him.

"Not acceptable," Alex said after him. "It'll be suicide, guv. Suicide!"

Ralph stopped in his tracks and turned to face her again. "What?"

"Findin' a Guard will be suicide," she said. She took a step forward and the footman stopped her. "Step aside, ye mongrel," she snapped, slapping the footman's hand away. "Yer brother has been named by me friend, see. I need te see him at once," she said to Ralph Everard.

"Oh God," the footman's voice said behind them, stopping whatever Ralph had to say.

Alex looked over her shoulder to glare at the servant but her attention was caught by three horses bounding toward them. Atop them were men clad in black capes very similar to Ralph Everard's and the most alarming top hats she had ever known existed.

They were the same hats she saw the men who chased her in the Dark Forest wear. They were the same ones worn by the men she and her cousins tried to rob.

They were bloody Town Guards.

"What is the meaning of this?" Alex heard Ralph Everard ask behind her as he stepped forward to meet the riders.

"Good afternoon to you, too, Everard," one of the Guards said, but his eyes hooded by his hat were not on Ralph but on Alex. "Pardon our intrusion, but it seems that your brother's estate may be infested."

Alex's eyes darted toward Siege but her horse was being held by one of the Guards.

Bloody hell.

Her eyes darted past the Guards and down the path that led to the main entrance of the estate. She started to calculate the risks when she heard Siege's cry of horror for the betrayal she was considering committing.

Alex sighed and closed her eyes. Indeed, the saying amongst bandits was true. Guards are the best instrument for suicide.

"What do you mean, Peters?" Ralph demanded and then he stopped to throw Alex a look.

She heard the footman's tiny squeal of victory when the Guard named Peters said, "We have been tracking down this bandit for days, following her track since she left Blucksley."

Alex's groan of frustration chorused with Ralph's frustrated sigh.

The two other Guards jumped from their horses and started to walk toward Alex.

"We will take her now, if you don't mind," Peters said to Ralph Everard.