in the bosom, but the jacket hid that fact. The boots scrunched her toes, too, but only just a little.

She'd tried to braid her hair, but it was a disaster. She gave up the task when she saw the lopsided mess she was making. Jade had little patience and absolutely no expertise in the area of hair styling. That fact had never bothered her before, yet now it worried her. She was a gentle lady of the ton until this masquerade was finished, and it wasn't like her to let any little detail slip her notice.

The dining room doors were wide open. Caine was sitting at the head of a long, mahogany table. A servant was pouring dark tea into a cup from a beautiful silver pot. Caine wasn't paying any attention to the man, however. He seemed to be engrossed in the newspaper he was reading.

She wasn't certain if she was supposed to curtsy or not, then decided it really didn't matter since he wasn't paying any notice. She was mistaken in that belief, however, for as soon as she reached the chair adjacent to his, he stood up and offered her his assistance.

No one had ever held out a chair for her, not even Nathan. She couldn't make up her mind if she liked

the fuss or not.

Caine continued to read his paper while she ate her breakfast. When he'd finished with what she decided was probably a daily ritual, he leaned back in his chair, folded the newspaper, and finally gave her his complete attention.

"Well?" she asked as soon as he looked at her.

"Well, what?" he asked, smiling over the eagerness in his expression.

"Was there mention of a finely dressed gentleman being murdered?" She pointed to the newspaper.

"No, there wasn't."

She let out a gasp of dismay. "I'll wager they tossed him in the Thames. Do you know, Caine, now that

I reflect upon it, I did feel something slither against my legs. And you did say nothing could live for long

in the Thames, didn't you? It must have been that poor…"

"Jade, you're letting your imagination get the better of you," he interjected. "Not only was there no mention of your finely dressed gentleman, there wasn't any mention of anyone being murdered."

"Then they haven't found him yet."

"If he's a member of the ton, someone would have noticed his disappearance by now. It's been two days, hasn't it, since you saw…"

"It has been two days, exactly," she interrupted.

Caine thought that if she became any more enthusiastic, she might jump out of her chair.

"Which leads me to my first question," he announced. "Exactly what did you see?"

She leaned back against her chair. "Where are Lyon and Christina, do you suppose?"

"Are you avoiding my question?"

She shook her head. "I just don't want to have to tell it twice," she explained. Even as she gave that lie her mind was racing for another plausible story.

"Lyon went out for a bit," he answered. "And Christina is tending to Dakota. Answer me, please."

Her eyes widened.

"Now what's the matter?"

"You just said please," she whispered. She sounded awestruck. "If you're not careful, you'll soon be giving me the apologies you owe me."

He knew better than to ask her why he should apologize, guessing she had her list of his faults memorized. Besides, the smile she just gave him was so dazzling, he could barely hold his concentration.

"They pitched him from the roof."

Caine was jarred back to their topic when she made that announcement. "You were on a roof?" he asked her, trying to imagine what in God's name she'd been up to.

"Of course not," she replied. "Why would I be on a roof?"

"Jade…"

"Yes?" she asked, looking expectant again.

"You weren't on a roof but you saw "them" throw this man…"

"He was a finely dressed gentleman," she interrupted.

"All right," he began again. "You weren't on the roof but you saw several men throw this finely dressed gentleman from the roof? Is that it?"

"There were three of them."

"You're certain?"

She nodded. "I was frightened, Caine, but I could still count."

"Where were you when this happened?"

"On the ground."

"I gathered that much," he muttered. "If you weren't on the roof, I did assume…"

"I could have been inside another building, or perhaps riding Nathan's fine horse, or even…"

"Jade, stop rambling," he demanded. "Just tell me where you were and what you saw."

"What I heard is just as significant, Caine."

"Are you deliberately trying to make me angry?"

She gave him a disgruntled look. "I was just about to walk into the church when I heard all the commotion. They weren't actually on top of the church. No, they were dragging this poor man across

the rectory's roof. It's a bit lower. From my position, I could see the gentleman was trying to get away from them. He was struggling and shouting for help. That's how I knew, Caine. I wasn't just imagining it."

"And?" he prodded when she suddenly quit her explanation.

"They tossed him over. If I'd been just a foot to the left, well sir, you wouldn't be having to protect me now. I'd be as dead as the poor gentleman is."

"Where is this church?"

"In Nathan's parish."

"And where is that?" he asked.

"Three hours north of here," she answered.

"Am I interrupting?" Christina asked from the doorway.

Jade turned to smile at her.

"Of course not," Jade answered. "Thank you for the lovely breakfast, and for loaning me your beautiful riding clothes. I shall take good care of them," she added.

Lyon came up behind his wife and put his arms around her. While Caine and Jade watched, Christina's husband nuzzled the top of his wife's head.

"Miss me?" he asked.

"Of course," Christina answered. She smiled up at her husband, then turned back to Jade. "I went into your room…"

"Nothing happened," Jade rushed out. "It's all his fault, really. But nothing happened, Christina. I tried to use my knife on him. That's all. He took exception, of course," she added as she waved her hand in Caine's direction. "He was so bloody furious, he dragged me into his room. Oh Lord, I'm making a muddle out of this, aren't I?"