A Daring Passion

“There was nothing mysterious about it, Father. I thought the magistrate was watching the road and found an abandoned cottage to hide in for the night.”

“Yes, so you have said.” Disbelief was thick in his voice.

He did not know what had happened during those terrible hours that Raine went missing, but he did know that it was more than simply hiding in an abandoned cottage.

Unfortunately, he had no means to force the truth from his stubborn daughter. Whatever had put those shadows in her eyes was a secret she intended to keep well hidden.

“Actually, I am glad you are here.” Squaring her shoulders, she briskly turned to face him. “I wish to go over our plans for tonight.”

Josiah gave a slow shake of his head. He could not deny a measure of concern when Raine had revealed the conversation she had overheard between Harper and Timms. The damnable magistrate was determined to prove Josiah was the Knave of Knightsbridge and nothing seemed capable of distracting him.

But while he agreed with Raine that something needed to be done, he was far from convinced that her current scheme was anything more than sheer madness.

“I do not like this.”

“Yes, you have made that abundantly clear, Father,” she murmured with a forced patience, “but we have no choice. We must do something to convince the magistrate once and for all that you are not the Knave of Knightsbridge.”

“I was a fool to ever begin this folly and an even greater fool for allowing you to become a part of it.” He gave a pained shake of his head. “If anything happened to you…”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“That is precisely the sort of arrogance that has landed me in this situation,” he said sternly. “At least one of us should have enough wits to stay away from the gallows, and since it is far too late for me, I fear it will have to be you, pet.”

Her beautiful eyes darkened with a mutinous determination as she reached out to grasp his arm. “No one is going to the gallows. Not even if I have to tie the magistrate to a tree and leave him for the vultures.”

Josiah hid a faint smile as he recognized that expression. He should. He saw it in the mirror often enough. Usually right before he was about to do something stupid.

“No one admires your courage and loyalty more than I, pet, but not when it puts you in danger,” he said softly.

“What is the danger?” She tilted her chin, clearly determined to go through with the plan regardless of his protests. “The magistrate will be here enjoying a delightful dinner and the pleasure of your very fine cigars while I quietly play the pianoforte in the drawing room. A perfectly respectable evening while the Knave is blatantly hunting carriages near the squire’s house.”

“Raine…”

The sound of the front door being opened interrupted his words, and Josiah was forced to swallow a curse as Raine stepped away and turned to make her way across the room.

“Remember, Father, that Foster must be within sight the entire evening.”

PINNING A STIFF SMILE to her lips, Raine left the room and headed toward the small foyer. Behind her she could sense her father’s frustration and a twinge of guilt tugged at her heart. She knew that he had been concerned since her abrupt return to the cottage after vanishing for more than a day. Hardly surprising. As he had so accurately accused, she was restless and on edge, and inclined to discover herself standing in the center of a room staring at nothing. Even worse, she could not banish the vague sensation that she was standing in the midst of a brewing storm, just waiting for the lightning to strike her.

Not at all the sort of thing to reassure a concerned parent.

But, while she hated to deceive her father, she knew that the truth was not likely to ease his concerns. Just the opposite, in fact. Josiah Wimbourne was proud enough to decide to track down Philippe and challenge him to a duel if he ever discovered what had occurred.

It was the last thing Raine desired.

Especially now that they had the additional burden of knowing that the magistrate was still convinced that Josiah was the Knave of Knightsbridge.

With an effort she turned her thoughts to the evening ahead. She did not have the time or luxury of brooding about what was done and over with. Not when her daring scheme would demand every particle of her concentration.

Standing in the shadows, Raine watched as Foster escorted the magistrate into the foyer and took his coat and hat with a crisp formality. Although it had been years since Foster had earned his living in the grand homes of London, he maintained his ability to slip into the role of the proper servant with remarkable ease.

Thomas Harper smoothed his hands over his plain blue jacket, his eyes covertly studying Foster and then his surroundings. His expression was unreadable, but Raine sensed that his searching glance missed very little.

No doubt he was hoping to discover a pilfered chest of coins hidden beneath the ormolu table.

Raine deliberately tugged her bodice another half inch lower before stepping from the shadows. There had to be some means of distracting the damnable man.

“Mr. Harper, how kind of you to join us,” she said as she performed an elegant curtsy.