ow do I look?" Emma jumped in front of Ned, her lithe form clad completely in black. She was wearing a pair of

dark breeches that had belonged to him when he was fourteen. Ned only stared.

"Can I pass for a boy?" Emma persisted. "I'll pin my hair up underneath a cap, of course."

Ned gulped. "Uh, Emma, the thing is, well, no. You don't look like a boy at all."

"No?" Emma sighed. "Darn. And I was so happy to find a pair of breeches that fit, too. They're a little big in the waist."

She pulled the waistband away from her body to demonstrate. "But anything smaller would have been too snug in the hips.

Breeches just aren't cut to fit a woman's body."

"There might be a good reason for that," Ned murmured, observing the indecent way the breeches hugged her feminine frame. "It's a good thing I'm your cousin," he remarked. "I wouldn't want anyone else to see you like this."

"Don't be such a stickler. Frankly, I find these breeches exceedingly comfortable. It's a wonder that women around the

world haven't revolted yet. If you want to know why so many women swoon all the time, you ought to try lacing yourself

into a corset."

"Also, Emma, you need to, uh, that is..." Ned's words trailed off, and when Emma looked into his face, he looked almost pained.

"I need to what?"

"You might want to, uh, well, bind your..." He waved his hand in the general direction of her breasts. He and Emma usually

spoke quite frankly, but he just couldn't bring himself to discuss her intimate body parts.

"I see," Emma said slowly. "Hmmm, maybe you're right. If you'll wait just one moment..." She dashed out of the room,

returning about five minutes later. Her chest looked much the same. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "It was too uncomfortable.

I'll have to wear a baggy coat."

Ned thought it best to refrain from any more discussion on the subject and held out one of his old coats. "We need to

get going," he said. 'Try this on. I don't think it'll drag on the floor."

It didn't, but it came perilously close. Emma surveyed her costume. "I look like a waif going to a funeral."

The pair of conspirators slipped out into the hallway and made their way to the back staircase. "Be careful on the third step," Emma whispered. "It creaks. You need to hug the wall."

Ned sent her a wry glance. "Do you sneak down these stairs very often?"

Emma flushed as she remembered the day she and Belle crept down the back stairs dressed as maids. The day she met Alex. "Belle told me about it," she mumbled.

Following Belle's advice, they moved soundlessly down the back stairs, tiptoed through the deserted kitchens, and slipped out

the side door into the velvet darkness of the night.

* * *

Lady Mottram's party was already well underway when Alex and Dunford, both impeccably dressed in austere black evening clothes, strode through the ballroom doors.

"Do you see them?" Alex asked in a clipped voice, using his height to scan over the heads of the guests.

"No," Dunford replied, craning his neck.

"Emma's not here," Alex stated.

"What do you mean? She's got to be here."

"She isn't. I can spot her hair a mile away."

"Wait!" Dunford suddenly exclaimed. "I see Belle."

Alex followed Dunford's line of vision until he, too, located Belle's blond head. She was surrounded by her usual throng of admirers. "Woodside is hanging all over her."

Dunford furrowed his brow. "And she isn't doing anything to discourage him. Follow me." He moved decisively through the

milling crowd, Alex right at his heels.

"Belle!" Dunford exclaimed jovially when he reached her. "You're looking even lovelier than usual." He leaned down and kissed her hand. Belle regarded him with the utmost suspicion. "And Viscount Benton!" He slapped the man on the back. "It's been an age. I've been meaning to ask you about that waistcoat you're wearing. Been admiring it for some time. Where did you have it made?"

With Woodside's attention satisfactorily engaged, Alex focused his energies on Belle. "Lady Arabella," he said curtly, dismissing the rest of the young bucks with a quelling stare. "I need to speak with you in private."

"I have nothing to say to you," Belle replied with a lift of her chin.

Alex turned to Dunford and Woodside. "Would you mind if I stole Lady Arabella away from you for just one moment? I promise to return her immediately." He winked at Woodside. "I know how fond she is of you, and I wouldn't want to deprive you of her company for too long." With that, he smiled dangerously at Belle, grabbed her wrist, and practically yanked her out onto the balcony. "Where is your cousin?"

"She's not pining away after you at home if that's what you're worried about." Belle gulped, instantly aware that she had told

Alex too much.

He caught her guilty look immediately. "Where is she? Is she in danger? Lord only knows what kind of scrape she'll get herself into without someone to watch over her." Alex had no rational basis for the gut-wrenching fear that coursed through him, but somehow he knew that Emma was involved in something dangerous. He also knew that there was no way he could stand back and watch her be hurt in any way.

"She's perfectly able to take care of herself without your assistance. Besides, I wasn't aware that she was any concern of

yours any longer."

"Do not toy with me, my lady," Alex warned. "Where is Emma?"

"Look here, your grace," Belle returned in a scathing voice. "You have behaved abominably. I don't know what you said to her,

but it must have been dreadful because she won't even speak about it. She walks around the house with the most morose expression I have ever seen, and every now and then she just starts to cry. I hope you're satisfied!" she spat out. "It's all we

can do to keep her mind occupied so that she doesn't have to think about the swine who was courting her! Luckily we've got—" She broke off suddenly.

"Luckily what?" Alex demanded. "What are you doing tonight that is keeping her occupied?"

"Did I say 'swine?' " Belle asked offhandedly, tipping her head and tapping her finger against her chin. "I meant 'vermin'!" she hissed. "Now leave me—and Emma—alone!" She snatched her arm away from him and flounced back into the ballroom,

heading straight to Woodside and Dunford.

"I am so sorry for Ashbourne's rude behavior," she said prettily, smiling up into Woodside's pale blue eyes. "He was questioning me about my cousin. He's been dangling after her, you know."

Woodside leveled a shrewd look at Belle. "I was under the impression that she reciprocated his feelings."

"Not anymore. In fact, that is why she stayed home tonight. She's still a little upset about the entire affair. But I don't want to

talk about Emma tonight. I'd like to learn a bit more about you, my lord. Ned has told me so much about you."

A lecherous gleam sparkled in Woodside's eye as he convinced himself that Ned had chosen to offer his sister in exchange

for the ten thousand pounds. "I'm sure he has," he murmured.

Dunford stifled a groan as he spotted Alex striding angrily toward them. "Woodside, you wouldn't mind if I borrowed Lady Arabella for a waltz, would you? I know that Ashbourne just stole her away, but I really must talk to her, too."

"I don't want to dance, Dunford," Belle bit out.

"I think you do," he said in a silky tone, pulling her out toward the dance floor.

Woodside let out an irritated sigh as he watched his prey once again being led away from him. He was just about to go off in search of a drink when Alex appeared at his right shoulder.

"Sorry about that," Alex said with a tight smile. "I'm sure you were looking forward to spending the evening with Lady Arabella. She's very lovely.

Woodside eyed Alex suspiciously. "What's he got to say to her that is so damned important?"

Alex swallowed his distaste for the man and smiled amiably. "Actually, Woodside, it's my fault. You're aware I've been

courting Lady Arabella's cousin?"

A conspiratorial smile crossed Woodside's face. He had never believed that the powerful duke of Ashbourne would actually

marry an untitled nobody from the colonies, and so he didn't feel the need to speak of Emma with respect. 'The American

chit, eh? She looks like a treat, but I wouldn't have thought a man like you would be interested in a colonial."

Alex fought the urge to tear out the man's tongue. "We've had a bit of an argument, you see, and she won't speak to me."

"Send flowers," Woodside said condescendingly. "Or jewelry if you don't think her family will consider it too bold. That always works." He removed an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve. "Women are easily managed."

Alex wondered how much extra effort would be required to remove the man's lungs along with his tongue. "I've drafted

Dunford to plead my case with Belle since I obviously didn't succeed out on the balcony. He's trying to convince her that she ought to convince Emma that she ought to speak with me so that we can resolve our differences."

Woodside nodded. "A wise approach. And if it works, it'll be damned cheaper than a bracelet."

Alex smiled over clenched teeth. "All the more reason the two of us should pray that he's meeting with success."

* * *

He wasn't.

Dunford tried just about every tactic imaginable to get Belle to reveal Emma's whereabouts, but she remained implacable.

Finally, he decided that blackmail was his only recourse. Clearing his throat a few times, he looked down into Belle's blue eyes, smiled wickedly, and said, "Belle, if you do not tell me this instant where your cousin is, I swear I will cause such a scene it will take you years to live it down."

Belle looked up at him scornfully. "We're in the middle of a crowded ballroom, Dunford. What on earth could you do?"

"I'll kiss you."

"Oh, please," Belle said dismissively.

"I'll use my tongue," he said very slowly and with great meaning.

Belle gasped at his daring. "You wouldn't. You're not even attracted to me. You've told me that before. On several occasions."

"Doesn't matter."

"You'd ruin me."

"At the moment, Belle, I don't care."

Belle took one look into his deadly serious brown eyes and knew that she'd misjudged Dunford. There was an iron will

underneath his easygoing facade, and he had just bested her. "I don't have any choice, do I?"

"None."

Belle sighed, feeling utterly sick with despair, yet wondering if maybe, just maybe Dunford and Ashbourne would be able

to help Emma and Ned in their scheme.

"I haven't got all night, Belle."

"All right," she relented. "She and Ned are sneaking into Woodside's home. Ned owes him a gambling debt. They're stealing

the voucher."

"What? Of all the damned fool things to do!"

"It's a great deal of money," Belle said flatly.

"Your brother ought to learn to pay his gambling debts like a gentleman. Or at least not to wager more than he can afford."

"Woodside was cheating. It's only fair."

Dunford shook his head. "And I suppose your part in all this is to keep the unsuspecting Woodside entertained while your

relatives rifle through his belongings."

Belle nodded and then curtsied as the waltz came to an end.

Dunford took her arm and slowly led her back to Alex and Woodside. "Be careful how you go about your task, my dear," he murmured in her ear. "I have a feeling that you and the viscount have different ideas of what constitutes 'entertainment.' Ah, Woodside, here you are," he said brightly, placing Belle's hand on the other gentleman's arm. "I'm returning Lady Arabella into your care. She couldn't stop talking about you."

Woodside nodded slowly at Belle, a sinister smile crossing his lips.

"I'm afraid that Ashbourne and I must now take our leave," Dunford continued. "I trust the two of you will have a pleasant evening."

"I'm sure we will," Woodside said in a low voice. "I was hoping to show Lady Arabella around the gardens. Lady Mottram's

are among the best in London."

Belle grimaced and then quickly covered it up with a cough. "Actually, I'm afraid I might be catching a cold. I don't think

I ought to go out in the damp night air."

Dunford nodded at the two of them and then propelled Alex toward the door. "She told me everything," he whispered.

"I'll fill you in when we get to the carriage."

* * *

"Stop here."

The hired hack that Ned and Emma had engaged for their trip to Woodside's townhouse ground to a halt a block away from

their final destination. They didn't need the clip-clop of the horses' hooves alerting any lightly sleeping servants that guests

were arriving. Ned paid the driver, and Emma kept her mouth shut, not wanting her feminine voice to ruin her disguise.

They crept lightly down the street until they reached Woodside's residence. He leased a modest townhouse, a fact for which Emma was exceedingly grateful. A large mansion would take far too long to search and would probably contain a fleet of ever-watchful servants. Woodside's relatively small home was unlikely to be well-staffed.

"I think we should go around to the side," Ned whispered. "We'll see if he left any of the windows cracked open. It's a fairly

warm night."

Emma gave a quick nod and followed her cousin into the narrow alley that ran alongside the building. They were in luck. Woodside had left the rearmost window partially open, presumably to let some fresh air into a room that otherwise received

little ventilation.

"It's a little high," Ned said with a grimace.

"You'll just have to boost me up."

"How will I get in?"

"I guess you won't," Emma replied with a nervous smile. "Unless you can find a foothold in the masonry."

"I don't like this."

Emma didn't particularly like going in by herself, either, but she knew that her cousin would never let her do it if he realized

how apprehensive she was. "You'll have to give me a signal if you see someone coming."

"How about a cough?" At Emma's nod, he cupped his hands for her foot and held firm as she drew herself up to the window's level.

"It looks like his study!" she whispered excitedly, slowly pushing the window up higher. "And the door is closed, so I probably won't have to worry about servants coming in."

"I'm going to push up now," Ned said. "Try to get one of your legs up on the ledge. Once you do that you should be able to get inside easily."

As Ned propelled her upward, Emma gritted her teeth and used all of her upper-body strength to push against the ledge as she lifted her leg up and swung it through the open window. After that, it was easy to scoot the rest of her body into Woodside's

study, and she dropped herself lightly onto the carpet, mentally blessing her soundless soft-soled shoes. "It's about time my tree-climbing experience served some useful purpose," she said softly.

A tiny gleam of moonlight filtered into the room through the open window, but even after Emma's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found that she could not see well enough to conduct her search. Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a candle and

lit it. With the added light, she scanned the room, her gaze finally falling on the crack underneath the door leading to the hall.

Any servant passing by could easily see her candlelight glowing through the crack. Emma quickly shrugged off her coat and stuffed it against the bottom of the door.

"All right," she whispered to herself. "If I were a cheating lowlife, trying to swindle a nice young man out of his money, where would I put his I.O.U.?" The desk seemed the most logical place to start. After all, Woodside certainly wasn't expecting his

home to be broken into by Ned and Emma, so he probably wouldn't have gone to great lengths to hide the voucher. Emma

pulled open the first drawer. Some quills, writing paper, but nothing that resembled the note that Ned had described to her.

Emma moved on to the next drawer. Once again, no luck. She gave the third drawer a tug, but it was locked.

Emma's heart began beating quickly as she rushed to the window. "Ned?" she whispered.

"What?"

"One of the desk drawers is locked."

'Try a hairpin. Many of those old desks don't have very good locks."

"Very well." Emma scurried back over to the desk, where she removed her cap and pulled a pin from her hair. Catching her

lower lip between her teeth, she let out a little sigh and thrust the pin into the lock. Nothing. She twisted it around a few times.

Still nothing. Finally she glared at the offending drawer and muttered, "You stupid little lock. I have no idea what I'm doing

and you know it."

The lock turned. Emma smiled widely. "Well now, that wasn't so difficult." She rifled through the contents of the drawers.

There were a few legal papers, something that looked like a lease to the house, and even some money, but no voucher.

Emma quickly put the papers back in order and shut the drawer, making sure that it locked as it closed.

She ran back to the window. "It wasn't there," she called down.

"Keep looking!"

With a sigh, Emma turned her attention to a bookshelf that was built into the wall by the door. She supposed that Woodside

might have slipped the note into one of the books. Thank goodness this wasn't a full-fledged library. Emma judged there to

be only about thirty or forty books. It wouldn't take too long to go through them.

Emma climbed onto a little footstool and started on the top shelf, which seemed to contain the complete works of Shakespeare. Hrnmm, she thought with a mischievous smile, perhaps Belle really did have something in common with Woodside.

* * *

Alex's carriage pulled up in front of Dunford's townhouse after careening through the London streets at a breakneck pace. Woodside lived only three short blocks from Dunford, so the two men had elected to leave the carriage there, where it

wouldn't arouse any suspicion.

"I am going to throttle her," Alex ground out, his long legs carrying him quickly across the street.

Dunford took one look at his friend's furious expression and decided that Alex might actually be serious.

Within minutes they were in front of Woodside's townhouse. "I don't see any signs of forced entry," Alex whispered,

scanning the facade of the building.

"I think there's an alley to the side," Dunford returned. "Come on."

The two men strode to the corner of the building and stopped short, peering quietly around the corner. A male figure was

standing toward the back of the building, anxiously looking up at a window. "Have you found it yet?" they heard him call

out softly.

Alex and Dunford pulled back. "Our dear friend Lord Edward," Dunford mocked.

"Who I am going to throttle just as soon as I'm done with Emma," Alex muttered menacingly.

"Wait here." Dunford said quickly. He moved like lightning, and before Alex realized what was happening, Dunford had

his hand clamped tightly over Ned's mouth. Alex quickly went to join them.

"Is Emma inside?" he demanded.

Ned nodded his head, his blue eyes wide with surprise and a healthy dose of fear.

"What on earth possessed you to wait here while she went inside?"

Dunford didn't release his hold over his mouth, so Ned couldn't answer, a circumstance for which he was exceedingly

grateful since he hadn't the slightest idea what to say. He had been wondering the very same thing for the past ten minutes,

feeling like a fool while Emma was prowling around in the house.

Alex continued his interrogation. "She's looking for the voucher, isn't she? How on earth do you expect her to find a slip of

paper in there?"

Once again, Dunford didn't let go of Ned's mouth, so the young man did the only thing he could do to get himself released.

He licked Dunford's hand.

Dunford jumped back, thoroughly disgusted. He started to wipe his hand on his coat, then thought better of it and wiped it

on Ned's coat.

"I couldn't very well answer his questions with your hand over my mouth," Ned explained tightly.

"Well?" Alex demanded.

"I don't know. I suppose we were just hoping we would get lucky. This was all her idea."

"I'm sure it was." Alex had no doubts that Emma had cooked up this little scheme. He'd have to keep a tighter rein on her

once they were married. "You shouldn't have gone along with it, however."

Ned gave him a condescending look. "Have you ever tried to stop her when she's got her mind set on something? She

would have come over here alone if I hadn't accompanied her."

"I'm going in," Alex declared.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Ned said hesitatingly.

Alex leveled an icy stare at the younger man. "Your judgment so far has not proved impeccable."

Ned gulped and stepped back.

"Dunford, will you give me a leg up?"

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Woodside's study, Emma had finished her inspection of the bookcase and was just about ready to give

up on the study altogether. It looked as if she would have to venture out into the rest of the house, after all. She was not

terribly excited about the prospect.

She was just about to lean out the window and give Ned an update when she suddenly remembered the hairpin she'd left

on the desk. She certainly did not want to leave any incriminating evidence lying about. Although she supposed it didn't really matter. Once Woodside realized that the voucher was gone, he would know who had taken it. He wasn't stupid. After all, he

had managed to swindle Ned out of ten thousand pounds. Emma supposed one had to have some degree of intelligence to

cheat with such proficiency.

All the same, Emma didn't want to leave anything that Woodside might be able to take to the authorities, so she went back

over to the desk and reached for the hairpin.

That was when she saw the snuff box.

It was sitting atop the desk, highly ornamental, as if it had been imported from Asia. "Oh, please God, please God, please God," Emma chanted, forgetting completely about the hairpin. She shut her eyes in prayer as she lifted the lid. Taking a deep breath,

she opened her eyes. A small piece of paper folded several times over lay inside. Barely able to breathe, she unfolded the note.

I, Edward William Blydon, Viscount Burwick, pledge to pay Lord Anthony Woodside,

Viscount Benton, the sum of ten thousand pounds.

Below that, Emma saw Ned's familiar signature. It was in that moment of supreme relief that Emma realized just how quickly

her heart was beating. 'Thank you, Lord," she breathed, placing the lid back on the snuff box and setting it back into place.

"Ned!" she called softly. "I foun—" She whirled around just in time to see Alex vault through the open window, landing on the carpet with pantherlike grace. "You!" she choked, stepping back in shock.

Alex's mouth settled into a grim line. "You, my dear lady, have some explaining to do."