"Where is Faye?" asked Ysabella.

"With the cook, I assume," answered Emma with Mrs. Beagle in her arms. "This cat just came home covered in soot."

Ysabella narrowed her eyes at the feline. "Not very lady-like to disappear and return looking harassed, Mrs. Beagle," she scolded with one finger. "Wait until your cage is done and you shall never step on a single cobblestone for the rest of your animal years ever again."

"Mrs. Beagle shall remain free, Ysa," Emma said, petting Mrs. Beagle's black furs. She turned into the corridor. "By the by, the brothers are here."

"And Ralph?" Ysabella asked, falling into steps beside her. "I must admit I do miss that rascal."

"He's here. The arrogance stenches the air, I tell you, sister. He talks about nothing but his training and how he endures it while others have already packed their bags and went home."

"Mayhap he needs a little reminder of how he can easily be thrown on his arse by two young ladies."

Emma laughed and led the way to the drawing room where the brothers were but they both stopped when they heard voices coming through the closed door. They were just about to press their ears against the wood when Margaret finally broke her silence by clearing her throat.

Both younger ladies jumped in surprise, eyes wide when they saw Margaret and their mother just right behind them.

"Do you have any business with the brothers?" asked Margaret, brows arched in question, mouth curled with amusement.

"None," said Emma, stiffly turning away.

"We're looking for Faye," replied Ysabella. "I'll look for her in the kitchen."

When they disappeared, Margaret and Lady Alice shook their heads. As she pushed the door open, Nicholas, Maxwell, and Ralph immediately stopped talking.

"I'll be going away to Standbury to visit Levi and Tory," she announced with a smile. Lady Alice sauntered to her favorite settee, one Ralph immediately vacated while frowning at Margaret.

"Why?" her youngest brother asked.

"She claims she misses me," she nonchalantly said, squeezing between Maxwell and Nicholas. "And maybe we'll finally put our plans into action."

"What plan?"

"Killing our dear brother," she retorted with a laugh.

"But why take the hackney?" asked their mother.

"You're taking a hackney?" Nicholas asked with a scowl.

"This is not the first time I'm taking a hackney. And it's in my best opinion that it's the safer," she said. "Bandits rarely block hackneys than private carriages. They know that most people who travel in hackneys barely have townsends to give."

Knowing Cole had already left Wickhurst two days ago, Margaret hired the hackney in full so they did not have to take another passenger and so she could reach Ashmore faster. Taking one of their carriages would mean their footman and coachman would know she was not headed to Standbury.

"Nicholas will go with you," Maxwell said.

Nicholas snapped beside Margaret and leaned over to glare at Maxwell. "Why me? Do I have to remind everyone that I've been the one tasked to travel to Tiny Town to serve as witness to our brother's wedding? I'm done traveling."

"I'm still currently on training," Ralph spilled out before anyone could turn to him.

"You always sit out," Nicholas told Maxwell. "You go with Maggie."

"No one shall go with me," Margaret said with finality. "You all have to be here with the twins and Mother."

"Standbury is far, Maggie," said Nicholas.

Maxwell turned to their mother. "You cannot possibly allow her to go alone."

Their mother shrugged. "I've traveled both ends of the Town many times on my own in the past. If Margaret wishes to do the same, she can most definitely do so."

"The roads are more dangerous now than they were before, Mother," said Ralph. "That's the one thing I've learned from my training."

"I'll be safe," said Margaret, leaning over to steal Nicholas' tea. "I wasn't asking for anyone's permission."

"Did you asked Ben's?"

"Ben's words may be law, but Mother's is the universal truth," she said with a wink.

Lady Alice chuckled. "Quite true." And to end the argument, she turned to her three sons. "How is Grey's nowadays, my boys? Is it still such a bore?"

Ashmore was merely two days away from Wickhurst, almost the same amount of time it would take to reach Devonshire. It was between Theobald and Gilford, and quite near Devonshire, which was Benedict's estate. In most cases, the servants from all estates could be related to each other, and if her presence in Ashmore were to be known, words could easily be passed on to Benedict.

But Ashmore was also quite near Calan Haverston's estate, Easton. If Benedict were to question her, she could just plainly say she was on her way to Easton and not Ashmore.

She brushed the worries aside, leaning against the seat of the hackney. She had given the coachman instructions to make only one stop and they had just left the said stop. It would take hours to get to Ashmore, just before night fell aboveground, she thought, looking out into the high stone formations outside her window.

Her mind was formulating words she'd say to Cole once she arrived when all of a sudden, the hackney skidded to a stop, sending her across the opposite seat. The panic of the horses outside was enough indication that there was a problem.

"Oi, mon, calm down!" Margaret heard a voice say from outside. That did not sound like the coachman.

Bandits.

One man poked his head through the open window. "Who do we have here?" he asked with a grin. "A lady, Ned! And she's alone!"

"A lady?" the voice from outside the carriage asked.

Margaret straightened in her seat to glare back at the man. As she studied him closer, he may be as young as Ralph. "How much do you want?" she asked, already fumbling for her purse.

"Oi, Ned! She's rich!" the young man said, eyes wide at the purse.

"I would like to go on my way," Margaret explained, opening her purse.

"Nae, nae, lady," said another voice. This time, it came from her side of the window. Margaret jumped in her seat and scooted to the center, eyes rounding in surprise.

"Hello, there, Miss," greeted the young woman, poking her head through the window, her bushy black hair blocking the entire frame. "'Tis a lucky night, ain't it, Barto?"

"Sure is, Alex," answered the man from the opposite window.

"You're a woman," Margaret absently said, loss for words. How naïve of her to think bandits were only made up of men. Of course, there would be women.

"'Cors I am, Miss," the young lady said with a wink. "What's yer name?"

Margaret blinked. "Why would you want to know?"

Alex shrugged, resting her chin on her hand with a curious frown. "Ye look vaguely familiar, is all. Have ye been a victim by us before?"

She shook her head no.

"Very well, then, since yer such a nice lady, would ye please give us yer purse, Miss? Let's not delay us all, ye know."

Margaret nodded, handing the woman her purse. "That's all I have."

"But I see somethin' glitterin' 'round yer neck, Miss," said Barto.

Margaret sighed and reached behind her neck to unhook her necklace.

Alex watched Margaret take off her jewelry. "She looks really familiar, doesn't she, Barto?" she asked, her black, curly hair moving as she tilted her head to study Margaret closer with striking grey eyes.

"Aye, she does," Barto said, leaning forward into the carriage and only tore his eyes off Margaret when she handed him the necklace. "'Tis an Everard!" he cried out.

"It is?" the girl asked excitedly. Then she turned to Margaret and asked, "Are ye one?"

"I am what?" Margaret asked.

"An Everard."

She knew it was very stupid to say yes but she nodded her head anyway. Alex was not like the sort of bandit she had always expected. Neither was Barto, and even Ned, the bloke she could not see. The man was now having a nice chat with the coachman, giving him tips on where to pass to avoid other bandits!

"Ye live in Standbury?" Alex inquired further.

Margaret frowned. It was an odd question. Had they, by chance, robbed off Levi as well? "No," she replied. "It's my brother who lives there with his wife."

"Wife?"

"He recently married," she replied. Why was she even having this conversation with these bandits?

"Who?"

"Lady Victoria." She should really shut up, but the interest in Alex's eyes was genuine and innocent.

"Ah, so they married after all," Alex said with a laugh. She turned to look at Barto. "Hand the lady back her necklace, Barto."

"But—"

"She's one of 'em Everards," said Alex, motioning her head at Margaret. "Give it back."

"But—"

"We don't steal from friends," Alex said, throwing the purse back to Margaret. She jumped away from the window. "Oi, Ned, let's go."

"Alex!" Barto whined, stared at the necklace with longing, and then threw it back to Margaret. "I swear we shouldn't have made friends with 'em!" he murmured before he jumped away from the window as well and disappeared.

"So long, Lady Everard!" Alex said seconds later from atop her horse.

Margaret did not realize her mouth was open until the hackney started rolling down the road again.

What in the bloody hell just happened?

***

Cole was in his private study, staring blankly at the mountain of papers on his desk. They were everything he had gathered from his father's effects, Leah's letters, and the secret searches in Wickhurst.

And he could not quite decide where to start.

Should he make a map? Trace where everything started? But where to start? Leah's death? Her first letter? Something told him it went far before that—years of his father's secret business with his friends.

What he was certain of was that he could not be too careless.

And he had to settle the business he started with Edmund Trilby.

The League was investigating him and he was not certain how strong their evidence was against him. If they ever found enough to implicate him, Cole might find himself in prison. If that happened, all of this would go to waste.

All of it.

A sense of dread washed over him.

Lives were at stake here, he thought, coming to his feet to pace around the room. Leah would never get justice.

A knock came to his door and he turned as the butler walked in.

"My lord, someone is at the door insisting to see you."

"If it is my mother—"

"No, my lord, it's not," said the man, face stern.

"Then who is it?"

"A woman, my lord—a lady."

"A lady?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Who?"

"She would not reveal her name."

"Then send her away."

"I tried, my lord, but she threatened to file a case against me."

"File a case against you? For what?"

"I believe she used the phrase, 'obstruction of private affairs', my lord."

Cole was momentarily stunned, but understanding soon dawned. "Bloody hell," he said, striding toward the door, his anger rising with each step. "Keep the third landing clear," he ordered over his shoulder as he climbed down the stairs.

Going straight to the hallway and to the main doors, Cole ordered the footman to go away and reached for the doors himself.

The last time he saw her, she was eager to put as much distance between them. She refused to talk. But now...

He swung them open and there she was.

Standing in all her glory, smiling at him. Something inside him, probably his heart, leaped at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.