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Once the men left on their visit to Greenbriar, Stormy decided she needed to clear her head. She had a light tread, so when she entered the stables, she realized at once that she had not been heard, since the furtive voices at the far end stall kept right on talking.

The male voice was deep with a pleasing timbre, but it sounded weak to her ears. The reason became quite clear in the next sentences. “You can’t hide me here much longer, Meg.

My presence endangers the whole household. I have no idea why Noir brought me here. I didn’t know he knew the way to Emerald Hills. And I was bleeding so heavily, I didn’t have the strength to stop him.”

“Hush, one of the girls is preparing a room in the servants’ quarters and the stable boys will carry you up via the back stairs. Master Despard has always been good to all of us. What kind of repayment would it be, if we let his friend down?”

Stormy had crept nearer using their conversation to mask any noise she might make. But when she spied the wounded man sprawled out on the straw her breath caught.

The young kitchen maid gasped and whirled around. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Oh, my lady.”

Stormy hushed her with a wave of her hand. “I heard part of your conversation. I won’t betray you. But I want to know what happened.”

Stuart grimaced. “I’ll leave immediately. This has gone far enough.”

“You sir, are in no condition to go anywhere and I heard tell that you are a friend of André’s. Tell me what happened. I am here to help. My name is Stormy.”

Stuart simply nodded. He could not let on that he had seen her at the hunting lodge and he had no energy for niceties. “André is imprisoned on his own estate by Sheriff Snowden and his thugs. Snowden bragged about how they waylaid him and how he is going to hang him.

Somehow they found the hunting lodge and they tried to arrest me. Nay, they really tried to kill me. I escaped through a back door that is hidden behind an armoire. With Noir’s help I outsmarted them. I doubt Snowden will give up on finding me, unless he thinks they wounded me badly enough so that I’d bleed to death.”

Stormy kneeled down, uncaring about her riding outfit. She examined the wound and pursed her mouth. “Whoever bound it up did a good job.” Turning to Meg, she said, “We need STORMY HEIDE KATROS

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to be very careful not to open it, when we move him. And is there another stall or barn, where we can move Noir, in case the sheriff comes snooping about?”

“The men already took care of the stallion. Normally, the animal won’t allow anyone on his back, but he must have sensed something was up.” Meg curtsied, wringing her hands as she waited for further instructions.

The clop of hooves sounded outside, and Stormy laid her finger to her mouth to warn the girl to be silent. “I’ll go see how I can stop whoever it is from entering the stable.”

Relief washed over her when she saw that her father and uncle had returned, but the grim expressions on their faces boded nothing good. “Papa, what are you and Uncle Thomas doing back from your ride so soon? Is there any news?” She could not keep the anxiety out of her voice or the worry from her gaze.

“We found out that André is being held in the bowels of his own estate.” He quickly related how the kitchen maid had stopped them and told them of André’s imprisonment. A look of deep understanding passed between father and daughter.

Thomas’ head snapped from his brother to his niece, his expression one of shock and outrage. “Trevor! You shouldn’t burden your daughter with such weighty information.

Consider her sensibility.”

Trevor snorted his derision. “Stormy is no shrinking violet. I know her upbringing is not quite in the English style, but the Americas are an untamed country. You have to live by your wits. We shield our womenfolk as much as we dare, but it is wise to teach them how to defend their lives and property.”

“Gad, how can you live in such uncivilized conditions?”

Trevor chuckled. “We really are no less civilized than you. We just live by the rules nature dictates.”

He dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a waiting stable boy, who quickly disappeared around the building to brush the animal down. Thomas did likewise.

Trevor reached for Stormy’s arm to escort her inside, but she shook free. “There is something I need to tell you both. André’s manservant is in the stable, hiding.”

“Hiding? I wager I don’t need to ask whether he is involved in André’s problems.”

Stormy nodded. “He’s been hurt. One of the kitchen maids has seen to his wound, but I feel he should be moved to a room with a bed, so he can recuperate properly. It seems he has lost a lot of blood.”

“How did he get here, and why did he choose to involve Emerald Hills?” The question was asked by Thomas.

“I don’t think he chose anything. Apparently, he was only half conscious when Meg found him. Noir brought him here.”

“Noir? Who is Noir?”

“It’s André’s black stallion.”

“I didn’t know he owned a stallion. I have never seen him on any other animal than his gelding.”

Stormy raised her eyes to her uncle’s outraged face. She almost told him that he apparently knew very little about a man he called his friend. Instead, she ignored the question and blithely went on to say, “I took the liberty of authorizing the servants to move the man to their upstairs quarters, in case the sheriff should come and insist on nosing around.”

“I can’t have the man in my house. It will endanger my family.”

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“Sometimes you have to take risks. If we keep the man’s presence to ourselves, then Emmaline can tell the sheriff truthfully that she knows nothing of a supposed fugitive. The rest of us are not above lying, I’m sure.”

“Let’s not waste any time. And maybe the manservant can tell us more about the estate.”

Trevor nodded. “That could prove helpful.” Something in Stormy’s gaze sent up warning bells in his brain. He grasped her elbow and pulled her up short. “Daughter, a word of caution.

In case we make an attempt to rescue André, don’t count on being part of it.”

She rounded on him, her heart slamming against her chest. “What do you mean by make an attempt to rescue him? Surely you won’t leave André in the hands of a man, who would hold him prisoner with the intent of killing him?”

“We need more information before we act, Stormy. We know that we are talking about a ruthless, powerful man. That means we have to proceed cautiously.”

Stormy gnawed on her lower lip and decided to bide her time. She followed the men into the stables and stood back, while they interrogated the manservant. So his name was Stuart and he’d been friends with André since they attended university?

Neither Thomas nor Trevor noticed the slip about the university. They simply deducted that Stuart had been André’s manservant during that time. And Stuart let the slip slide.

“I am unfamiliar with Greenbriar, gentlemen. So, I am afraid I can’t help you there.

André asked me to accompany him to England, because he needed someone to cover his back.

He did not want to involve Lord Mowbray, because he is a family man, while I am unattached.

André and I know each other well enough to anticipate each other’s reaction in case of danger. I know there was some mention of back taxes, but André swore that it was nothing more than a ruse and he needs time to prove it.” He refrained from telling the men about André’s endeavor to find the solicitor by acting the highwayman. Even if it seemed like a convoluted scheme, it was the only way to keep Sheriff Snowden off his scent.

“But where did you stay all this time? I have never met you before. Indeed, I was unaware of your existence.”

Stuart knew that the location of the hunting lodge was compromised anyway, so he told Thomas about it. “André did not want to burden you with an extra guest. Besides, it gave him some time away from everyone to mull over his future.” It was a blatant lie, but the best he could come up with on such short notice.

“Well, we had best get you off to a bed then.” Thomas signaled to the stable boys to lend a hand and within minutes Stuart was installed in one of the attic rooms, where the servants slept.

Thomas pulled Stormy aside. “I expect you to keep mum about this whole affair. Your father might entrust you with men’s business, but my ladies are not used to dealing with difficulties beyond the duties of running a household.”

Stormy held back a grin and stood on tiptoe to kiss her uncle’s cheek. “I promise I’ll keep mum.”

After they’d shared high tea, Stormy excused herself, saying she had the onset of a headache and intended to take a short nap. As soon as she walked out of the morning room, she picked up her skirts and raced to the study. A quick look around and she knew her best bet would be behind the sofa at the far wall.

She didn’t have long to wait. Her father and Uncle Thomas strode in the room some minutes later and closed the door firmly behind them.

Stormy was afraid to breathe. Her father might forgive her for spying, but Uncle Thomas might not be so kind.

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“So what do you propose?”

“We can rule out any help from Stuart Sortier. The man is too badly wounded to wield a saber and he knows nothing of the layout of Greenbriar. We’ll just have to play it by ear. Get in and out by ourselves and hope that luck is on our side.”

Stormy heard the rustle of paper, the scratch of a quill and the men breathing deeply to air some of their frustration.

“I propose we split up, once we get into the cellars. I doubt they’ll be any different than here at Emerald Hills. That would mean there is a wooden trap door on the outside, which leads directly into the basement, in case you have to haul something large down there. No need to lug it through the house.

“So, I assume the first chamber to our right will be the usual wash room with a copper kettle built into a brick stove. Across from it would be the wood storage, so the maids have easy access for keeping the fire going, when they wash. After that there would be the root cellar, and at the very end of the corridor you would have the wine cellar.

“That leaves two chambers next to the wood storage. I hope my guess proves correct and Snowden holds André in one of those rooms.”

“When do we leave?”

Thomas chuckled. “I thought you didn’t like André. What is your hurry?”

Trevor stiffened. His eyes bored into those of his brother’s with unusual vehemence, and the bite in his voice was unmistakable. “It’s a long story, but I detest injustice. I almost lost Annemarie to an English colonel, who thought his powers were sacrosanct. I sense the same drunken power in your sheriff. No one deserves to be left to the mercies of such a coward.”

Thomas backed off. His upbringing forbade him to ask for more details, but he could tell from his brother’s voice that the particular incident had made a lasting impression on him.

Clearing his throat, he nodded his understanding. “In that case, I propose we leave at midnight.

We’ll pad the horses’ hooves to keep down the noise. Wear dark clothing and let’s cover the bottom half of our faces.”

Stormy heard the men clasp hands then the door opened and closed in quick succession.

Biting her lip, she listened for their retreating footsteps. Still not trusting anything to chance, she stayed out to the count of one hundred, before she escaped through a veranda door to the gardens in back.

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Trevor raised a questioning brow, when Stormy excused herself after the evening meal.

“This is the second time in the same day that you ask to be excused early. Is something the matter?”

She looked guilelessly into his eyes. “I thought I would go upstairs and read to Stuart.”

“Stuart? Since when do you call the man by his Christian name?”

“Oh, Papa, the man is sick and I think he needs a bit of cheering. He is after all André’s friend and … and you have never before stood on formality.” She stomped her foot and turned away.

“I can’t condone your visit to a man’s bedchamber, no matter how ill he is. However, I’ll accompany you for a few minutes, just to humor you.”

Stormy curled her lips under and took a deep breath. Hmm, that hadn’t gone as she had hoped. She would have to take a different tack. She quickly pivoted to favor her father with a brilliant smile. “Thank you, I am sure he’ll be glad for the company.”

They stayed only for a few minutes, since it was obvious that Stuart felt quite weak. “I think I’ll be as good as new come morning, sir. Meg is taking good care of me.”

Trevor and Stormy parted at the bottom of the grand staircase. He kissed her forehead and smiled fondly down at her. “If you need anything, we’ll be playing some whist in the small parlor.

“Not to worry, Papa. I think I’ll find something to read and retire to my chamber. This has been a trying day.”

Trevor frowned after her, but let her remark pass.

Stormy dutifully entered the library and picked out a small volume of poems. Not that she had any desire to read it. Her mind spun like a top as she formulated plans.

Once in her room, she lit a two-armed candlestick and got ready for bed. She braided her hair, but before slipping into her nightgown, she stepped into her boy’s pants, stuck her riding boots under the bed out of sight and hid the black shirt she’d worn when she crossed sabers with André under her pillow. With a small moué she recalled that she had to sew the buttons back on.

She thought she was too excited to sleep, but when Trevor checked on her around the hour of eleven, she was fast asleep. Satisfied that he would not have to worry about any interference from that end, he tiptoed out of the room.

It was the surreptitious click of the door closing that wakened Stormy. With a start she sat up in bed, immediately contrite, thinking she had missed the time. She slid out of bed and laid her ear unashamedly against the door. She heard the furtive rustling of clothes and muted voices.