Samantha (Barrett 2)

"Did I omit anything?"

It wasn't the Bow Street men Rem was consulting, but Boyd.

"I see no problems."

"Good." Rem turned back to the other men. "Any questions?"

"Only one." Uncomfortably, Templar scuffed the tip of his boot along the wooden floor. "About payment..."

"Ah, yes, I almost forgot," Rem interrupted. "This is a complicated dilemma that must be resolved swiftly and cleanly with a minimum of public knowledge. If—I should say when—you've accomplished that goal, you'll receive twice your normal amount."

"Twice?"

"Yes. Does that suit you?"

Templar raised his mug in satisfied tribute. "You're a generous man, Gresham."

"And a determined one." Rem pushed his own drink away. "I'll be in touch."

"You're leaving?" Known for his ability to remain unruffled at all costs, Boyd now looked positively startled.

"We're finished for tonight."

"But. . ."

Rem grinned. "Enjoy yourselves men." He turned to go.

"Rem?" Boyd caught his arm, speaking in low tones so as not to be overheard. "Are you all right?"

"Of course. Why?"

"You know damned well why. It's not like you to decline a night with a beautiful woman. Do you have other plans?" He shot Rem a look that no one but Boyd could get away with. "With Lady Samantha Barrett, for example?"

Rem stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Did you return her carriage?"

"Yes."

"And . . . ?"

"And nothing. I told you—she's a bloody child, for God's sake!"

"A child who seems to have the most unusual effect on you. Are you sure you did no more than drop off her carriage?"

"Yes. Why? Did you think I tumbled her in her brother's Town house?"

"Testy, aren't we?"

"Don't push me, Boyd."

"Don't get in over your head, Rem."

"I have my reasons."

"You always do."

"Not those kind of reasons." Rem shook his arm free. "Look, if you want to hear my motives, I'm on my way home. You're welcome to join me. If you'd prefer to indulge in Annie's entertainment, I understand. But I won't discuss Samanth