From the library door, Felix strolled forward to take the had. Margaret held out to him. Her eyes widened as she took in the pistols he still held in his other hand. "Thank God I'm in time!" she said, in such heartfelt accents that Felix frowned.

"It's all right. We've found out which road they took. Byron and I were about to set out after them. Don't worry, we'll bring her back."

Far from reassuring her as he had intended, his matter-of-fact tone seemed to set her more on edge. Margaret clasped both her small hands on his arm. "No! You don't understand."

Felix's frown deepened. He decided she was right. He could not fathom why she wished him to let Maribella ruin herself. "Come into the library."

Margaret allowed him to usher her into the apartment where they had first met. As her eyes took in the other occupants, she coloured slightly. "Oh, I didn't realize," she said.

Felix waved her hesitation aside. "It's all right. They already know." He settled her in the armchair Henry had vacated. "Maggie, do you know where Finley's estates are?"

Margaret was struggling with his last revelation. They already knew? How? "Gloucestershire, I think," she replied automatically. Then, her mind registered the fact that Felix had laid the wicked-looking pistol he had been carrying on his desk, with its mate, no less, and was putting the box which she thought ought to contain them back, empty, on the dresser. A cold fear clutched at her stomach. Her voice seemed thin and reedy. "Felix, what are you going to do with those?"

Felix, still standing behind the desk, glanced down at the pistols. But it was Henry's deep voice which answered her. "Have to make sure Finley sees reason, ma'am," he explained gently. "Need to impress on him the wisdom of keeping his mouth shut over this."

Her mind spinning, Margaret looked at him blankly. "But why? I mean, what can he say? Well, it's all so ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" echoed Felix, a grim set to his mouth.

"I'm afraid you don't quite understand, Miss Fleming," broke in Daniel. "The story's already all over town. But if Felix can get her back and Finley keeps his mouth shut, then it's just possible it'll all blow over, you see."

"But...but why should Felix interfere?" Margaret out a hand to her head, as if to still her whirling thoughts.

This question was greeted by stunned silence. It was Francis who broke it. "But, dash it all! He's her guardian!"

For an instant, Margaret looked perfectly blank. "Is he?" she whispered weakly.

This was too much for Felix. "You now perfectly well I am." It appeared to him that his Maggie had all but lost her wits with shock. He reined in his temper, sorely tried by the events of the entire night, and said, "Henry and I are about to leave to get Maribella back—"

"No!" The syllable was uttered with considerable force by Margaret as she leaped to her feet. It had the desired effect of stopping her guardian in his tracks. One black brow rose threateningly, but before he could voice his anger she was speaking again. "You don't understand! I didn't think you did, but you kept telling me you knew."

Margaret's eyes grew round as she watched Felix move around the desk and advance upon her. She waved one hand as if to keep him back and enunciated clearly, "Maribella did not go with Sir Jack."

Felix stopped. Then his eyes narrowed. "She was seen getting into a carriage with him in the Penhursts' drive."

Margaret shook her head as she tried to work this out. Then she saw the light. "A rose-pink domino was seen getting into Sir Jack's carriage?"

At her questioning look, Felix thought back to Lord McDougal's words. Slowly, he nodded his head. "And you're sure it wasn't Maribella?"

"When I left Twyford House, Maribella was at the breakfast table."

"So who...?"

"Sophia?" came the strangled voice of Daniel Hammington.

Margaret looked puzzled. "No. She's at home, too."

"Emma?"

Francis's horrified exclamation startled Margaret. She regarded him in increasing bewilderment. "Of course not. She's at Twyford House."

By now, Felix could see the glimmer of reason for what seemed like the first time in hours. "So who went with Sir Jack?"

"Miss Helen Fletcher," said Margaret.

"Who?" The sound of four male voices puzzled unison was very nearly too much for Margaret. She sank back into her chair and waved them back to their seats. "Sit down and I'll explain."

With wart frowns, they did as she bid them.