"It was your idea," he reminded her. He removed his greatcoat. "Here, you had better take this. I might be gone for some time and I don't want you taking a chill."

"But I fully intended to accompany you," Prudence said as she struggled into the greatcoat.

"I told you at the start that I would not allow it," he said.

"You wouldn't even be here now if I hadn't thought of driving down Rowland Street."

"You are quite right," he said as the carriage came to a halt. "Nev­ertheless, this is as far as you go on this investigation." He caught her face between his gloved hands and kissed her fiercely.

When he raised his head Prudence straightened her spectacles. She could hardly make out his face in the darkness, but she could definitely feel the controlled excitement in him.

"Sebastian, listen to me."

"Be reasonable, Prue, you cannot possibly go running about in this fog dressed like that."

"Do not dare use my gown as an excuse. The truth is, you don't want me to have any fun. Admit it."

His teeth flashed briefly in the shadows. "I shall return presently, my dear. Don't leave the carriage."

He opened the door, jumped down onto the pavement, and van­ished almost instantly into the fog-shrouded night.

"Bloody hell," Prudence muttered.

A moment later she opened the carriage door.

"Beggin‘ yer pardon, ma'am, but where are ye goin'?" the coach­man hissed in alarm. "I was instructed to keep an eye on ye. His lordship will have me head if ye don't stay in the coach."

"Do not concern yourself," Prudence whispered reassuringly. "I shall speak to his lordship. He won't blame you for this."

"The hell he won't. Please, ma'am, I beg ye on bended knee. Get back in the coach."

"Try not to worry. I shall return soon."

"I'm a dead man," the coachman said sadly. "Always knew that when he married, his lordship would pick a female as bloody-minded as himself. Serves him right, suppose. But what's goin‘ to happen to me, I ask ye?"

"I shall see to it that your post is secure," Prudence said softly. "Now I must be off."

Prudence was grateful for Sebastian's heavily caped coat as she made her way down the lane behind the row of town houses. She counted garden gates until she found the one that belonged to the house Sebastian had pointed out earlier.

She was not surprised to find the gate unlatched. Sebastian was only a few minutes ahead of her, after all. He had already come this way. What sent a chill of alarm through her was the realization that there was a light in one of the windows on the ground floor at the back of Oxenham's house.

Someone was home.

Prudence hesitated, wondering why Sebastian had gone on into the garden knowing that the house was occupied. Then she reminded herself that he was perfectly capable of investigating a lady's bed­chamber while the lady herself was downstairs playing hostess to half the ton. Nor had he hesitated to explore the upper floor of Curling Castle while Curling's guests traipsed about from bedchamber to bed­chamber one floor below.

She ought not to be surprised that Sebastian had decided to take a closer look at Oxenham's house in spite of the light in one window.

Emboldened by the realization that he had already gone ahead, Prudence opened the gate and stepped into the garden. She winced when she found the graveled path. She could feel every tiny pebble through the soles of her soft satin evening slippers.

Midway through the garden Prudence was forced to alter her course slightly due to a high hedge. She stepped around the corner of the prickly foliage and collided with a large, solid masculine chest. Strong arms tightened around her, crushing her face against a familiar shirt.

"Umph."

"Damn it to hell." Sebastian's voice was very soft and very an­noyed. "I had a hunch you wouldn't follow orders. Don't make a sound, do you understand?"

Prudence nodded her head frantically.

He released her cautiously. Prudence raised her face. She could just barely make out Sebastian's irritated expression. "What are we going to do?" she asked in a voice that was even softer than his had been.

"You are going to stand right here while I take a closer look. Then we're going to leave as quickly as possible."

Sebastian moved away from her. Prudence watched anxiously as he made his way past the darkened windows of the ground floor. She saw his hand move once or twice and realized he was testing the windows to see if any were open.

She held her breath when he approached the one window through which light could be seen. Sebastian flattened himself against the wall and looked into the room from an angle.

He did not move for a long moment. Then he edged closer and studied the room from a slightly different angle.

Something was wrong, Prudence realized. She could sense it in the way Sebastian was standing. He was staring through the glass now, studying the scene inside very closely. Prudence took a cautious step forward. Sebastian did not notice. He was concentrating on whatever was inside the room.

Prudence watched in amazement as he reached out and opened the window. She darted toward him.

"Stay back," Sebastian ordered softly as she approached him. "I mean it, Prue. Don't follow me."

"What are you doing? You can't go inside. Someone is obviously home."

"I know," Sebastian said quietly. "Oxenham. But I do not believe he will notice that he has a visitor."

Sebastian swung his leg over the windowsill and dropped lightly into the room.

Shocked in spite of herself at this fresh evidence of Sebastian's outrageous boldness, Prudence hastened over to the window. She peered inside.

For an instant she could not comprehend what she was seeing. Then the sight registered. Prudence took an instinctive step back in horror.

A man lay sprawled facedown on the carpet. There was blood all over his head and more blood on the carpet beside him.

Chapter Fourteen

Oxenham had committed suicide. Either that or some­one had gone to a great deal of trouble to make it appear that he had.

The pistol lay inches from the dead man's hand. There was no evidence of a struggle.

Sebastian glanced quickly around the library. He could not stay long. He had to get Prudence out of the vicinity. But he wanted to find something that would convince him Oxenham had put the pistol to his own head and pulled the trigger.

Or something that would prove that he had not.

Gold gleamed on the carpet near Oxenham's outflung hand. Se­bastian edged closer, careful to stay clear of the blood. He glanced toward the window and saw Prudence watching him anxiously.

The gold object on the rug was a ring. He crouched down to get a closer look at it, wondering why it seemed familiar. Then he saw the elaborate letter F worked on the top. A Fleetwood ring, much like his own.

"Damnation." Without stopping to think about it, he scooped up the ring and rose quickly to his feet.

He turned toward the window and hesitated once more. He needed to be certain it was Oxenham that Jay in the pool of blood. It was impossible to see the man's face from this angle. He steeled him­self and stepped back toward the body.

"Don't touch him," Prudence whispered urgently. "Sebastian, we must get out of here."

"I know." But he could not leave until he was certain. Sebastian reached down, grasped the body by the shoulder, and turned the dead man over far enough to see what was left of his face.

It was definitely Oxenham.

Sebastian started to lower the limp corpse back into position. Gold gleamed once more, this time from the buttons of Oxenham's waist­coat. Sebastian leaned down and saw the words The Princes of Virtue engraved on them.