A choked noise came from Will, and John glanced at him indifferently.

"I do know what I will do when I have finished with him. I am going to scalp him. Start cutting right about there." He leaned over and touched the edge of the man's hairline. "Then peel the skin right back."

"John!" It did not take much acting for Priscilla to sound appalled.

"Don't worry, Pris, you don't have to see it. That's why I told you to move away. It isn't a sight for a fine lady like you."

"No! I won't let you do this!" Priscilla exclaimed.

"You don't have any choice."

Priscilla swung agitatedly to the man on the ground. "Please! Tell him what he wants to know! You can save yourself."

Will was sweating profusely now; the front of his shirt was soaked. He licked his lips, his eyes darting to the large knife in John's hand.

"Well, I might as well start." John moved closer, the knife glittering in the moonlight. Will tried frantically to wiggle back from him, but John rolled him over and planted a foot firmly on his chest, pinning him to the ground. He leaned closer and placed the knife between the edges of Will's shirt. Slowly he drew the knife downward, and the fabric parted like melting b.u.t.ter beneath the sharp blade, leaving a thin line of blood down the front of the man's chest.

Priscilla jumped, her stomach turning, and let out a cry. Will yelped.

"Guess I better gag you," John said, whipping his handkerchief out of his pocket. "Can't have you making too much noise."

"John! You cannot! You must not!" Priscilla ran forward and dropped down on her knees beside Will. "Please, you must tell him what he wants to know."

"Step aside, Pris."

"Please! Tell him! Where is your partner? What is his name? How do you know Benjamin Oliver?"

John leaned over him with the gag, bringing the cloth down toward Will's mouth.

"All right! All right!" Will burst out. "I'll tell ye everything I know. Just-just don't let that madman loose on me."

"Excellent." Priscilla settled down on the ground beside Will. "Now, let us begin with Benjamin Oliver. Who is he?"

"I don't know. I never seen the bloke 'fore 'e 'ired Mapes 'n' me!"

"Then you were not cohorts of his?" Priscilla asked.

"I don't know what that is, but we wasn't nothin' to 'im. 'E's some bleedin' gen'leman, 'e is, always puttin' on airs and actin' like some ladies' man. Bleedin' pouf. 'I paid you good money,' 'e says, 'and now you say you've lost 'im. Well, find 'im, man.' As if it was that easy. I'd like to see 'im keep 'is 'ands on that one. I'd like to see 'im duke it out with 'im."

"Believe me, I'd like to see it, too," John put in dryly. "But why is Oliver so concerned about keeping hold of me?"

"'Ow should I know? The likes of 'im don't confide in the likes of me. Ye'll 'ave to ask 'im that yerself."

"I suppose I shall. Did he tell you to kill me?"

"No. It'd of been a lot easier, I can tell ye that, but 'im, 'e's all squeamish about blood, ye see. 'E says as we're just to lock you up in that cabin and keep ye."

"But why?"

The man attempted a shrug. "I told ye, 'e didn't let us in on 'is plans. 'E just said follow ye, and knock ye on the 'ead right before ye get to Elverton. 'E paid us 'alf before, and 'e was goin' to pay the other 'alf when the job was ended."

"And when was that to be?"

"I don't know. 'E said 'e'd get to us if we 'oled up at the Dolphin-that's where ye found us. Only 'e came stormin' in right before ye came, jawin' at me 'cause 'e'd seen ye in town. 'E wanted to know why we 'adn't told 'im we'd lost ye-and I'd like to know 'ow we could, when 'e 'adn't ever showed up there before. Wot was we supposed to do, I'd like to know? 'E told us we'd better get ye back if we wanted our money. I told 'im we was tired of playing cat 'n' mouse in the wilds. It ain't right to live out 'ere with all them trees and the like. Everybody watches ye when ye walk down the street, 'n' there's no place to hide. We just wanted to go back to London, and that's the truth. Only 'e said 'e'd 'ave our 'ides if we did that." Indignation filled his face. "'E said as 'ow 'e'd bring us up afore the constable and tell 'im we'd stolen from 'im. So if we wanted to stay out of jail, we'd better find you. And that's when ye and yer lady friend showed up, and we figured we could get ye back if we took 'er. Mapes, see, remembered 'er from when we was lookin' for ye, and she said she hadn't seen ye."

Will shot a resentful look at Priscilla. "Ye lied to us."

"Well, yes, I did," Priscilla admitted.

"d.a.m.n!" John sat back on his heels. "So we still have no idea why Oliver would want to get rid of me. Or why he wanted me held and not killed."

"Maybe it was what this man said-he was squeamish about killing someone."

"'E said as 'ow 'e'd talk ye into leaving. 'E thought if you were 'ungry and scared enough, ye'd take off if 'e let you go."

"Or maybe he hoped you would die from exposure and starvation, and he could pretend he was not responsible," Priscilla said. "That would fit Mr. Oliver's personality exactly. He's cowardly and sneaky."

"The only thing to do now is to confront Oliver." John looked down at Will with narrowed eyes. "And what am I going to do with you?"

"Let me go?" the man suggested hopefully, trying what Priscilla a.s.sumed he must think was a winning smile.

"To run around trying to kidnap me or Priscilla again? I think not."

"We wouldn't!" Will a.s.sured him. "I swear, we wouldn't. We'd shake the dust of this bleedin' place off our feet in a trice. All we want is to go back to London, and that's the truth."

"So I should let you return to London to rob and kidnap people there? I don't think so. No, I'm afraid that Priscilla is right. I must take you and your accomplice to the constable. However, if you were to tell him your story about Mr. Oliver, you might have an easier time of it. They usually enjoy catching the bigger fish more than the small fry."

"'E wouldn't believe me, not against a gen'leman like Oliver."

"Ah, but Priscilla and I can testify that we saw him talking to you. I think the constable will believe you. Besides, I hope to get a little information out of Mr. Oliver that might help your story make more sense. Anyway," he pointed out practically, "look on the bright side of it. I am not going to scalp you now, or any of those other things, since you told me about Oliver. Now, where's Mapes?"

"Mapes?" Will replied, looking blank.

"Yes, Mapes. Your partner. Where is he?"

"'E's out in the woods. That's where we been stayin' the past days, on account o' ye seein' us in town. It's a fearful place, too, I'll tell you. All sorts of noises; things rustlin' and birds 'ootin' and such. I couldn't sleep at all last night."

"Mm... Dreadful, I'm sure. I am going to untie you and let you take me to Mr. Mapes at your campsite."

John went behind him and began to untie the sash from his ankles. When that was done, he stopped. "Wait. I have a better idea. When is Mapes going to come to relieve you?"

"'Bout 'alfway through the night. That's what we agreed-if 'e don't cheat me on it."

"That sort, is he?"

Will gave him an odd look. "Ain't everybody?"

A faint smile touched John's mouth. "Apparently everyone you know is. Well, my good man, I have decided to put you in the cabin, where you so recently kept Miss Hamilton. I shall retie your legs, but more comfortably, and I fear I shall have to use the gag this time. We can't have you alerting your partner, now can we?"

The man rose to his feet and shambled docilely in front of John to the cabin. There John rebound his ankles and gagged him, then left him in the shed, pulling down the heavy wooden bar. He turned, scanning the trees and bushes behind them.

"Come on." He took Priscilla's hand and led her to a spot behind a small bush, where they were well hidden in the dark but had an excellent view of the door of the cabin.

"We are going to hide and ambush Mapes when he comes to change the watch?" Priscilla asked.

"Yes. It seemed unlikely that we could get Will to lead us to the correct spot or, if he did, not to make too much noise and give us away. Plus, his feet would be untied, and I would have him on my hands, as well as Mapes. This way is easier, though I'm afraid it will leave your papa in worry a little longer."

Priscilla quirked an eyebrow. "Papa noticed I was gone?"

"I brought it to his attention," John admitted apologetically. "I'm sorry. I am sure he would have realized soon."

"Mm-hmm... When he couldn't find something, or when Miss P. pointed it out to him." She shrugged. "Don't worry. It doesn't matter. I know Papa better than anyone else. He is a kind and loving man, but not the sort you want to have with you in a bad spot."

She did not add that John was precisely the sort of man she would want to have with her in such a situation. She sneaked a sideways glance at him. He was watching the area around the cabin steadily, relaxed, but with his eyes never ceasing to roam in front of the cabin and off to the shadows on either side. He felt her watching him and turned to look at her. He raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Did you mean any of what you said back there...to Will?" she asked.

"What? Oh...to make him talk?" He chuckled. "No. I have never met an Indian in my life, much less lived with them. Nor have I ever tortured anyone. Or, at least, I don't think I have. It's very strange, not knowing yourself. But those things I talked about-I felt that I was making them up, not talking about something I actually knew."

Priscilla let out a little sigh of relief.

"I thought you realized that. I thought you were going along with me."

"I was. I did. When you started talking about the Indians and all, I thought surely, if you had remembered things like that, you would have told me. But...at first...well, I wasn't quite certain. You sounded so cold and hard, as if you were capable of anything."

"I felt cold and hard. After all, the man had abducted you. I had been stumbling through the dark for hours, praying that you were all right and that I was going the right way. Then, when I found you locked in that little dark place and thought about you being in there, scared and alone-" His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he remembered the emotion that had swept him. "I was in a rage. I was determined to make him talk, to find out what was going on. To stop those two before they could actually harm you."

"Oh, John..." Priscilla breathed, stirred by the fierceness of his anger and his fear for her.

He smiled a little at her and reached out with one arm to pull her close. He bent his head to hers, murmuring, "I don't know what I would have done if I had not found you. Or if they had hurt you. When I was searching through the woods, I kept thinking about you-what they might have done to you. How you might be lying hurt, even dead, somewhere. It nearly drove me crazy with fear. If I had found you like that, then I might have killed him. I am not sure I would have been able to stop myself, or to even think." He paused. "Thank G.o.d you were all right."

"Thank G.o.d you came after me."

"You knew I would."

Priscilla nodded. She had never doubted him, only whether he would be able to find his way there again at night. She leaned against him, enjoying the warmth of his arm around her and his hard chest against her shoulder. She had never felt this way before about any man-the surety, the pa.s.sion, the completeness she felt when she was with him, the emptiness when he was gone. For some time now-ever since he had arrived, in fact-she had been fighting the feelings she had for him. She was not sure why she fought them, or why it was this one particular man who could bring them out in her. She did not know him at all in the way she knew everyone else in her life. But, she realized, she knew who he was in the most important sense.

He was the man she loved.

The thought startled her, and she drew back mentally to examine it. She loved him? It seemed wrong-absurd, even. She hadn't known him long, and it seemed as if they had spent most of their time bickering. Surely people did not fall in love that quickly; surely what she felt was merely an unseemly l.u.s.t for him.

Yet even as she marshaled her arguments against the idea, she knew deep down that none of them mattered. She had been trying to hide it from John and from her family, and most of all from herself, but the truth would not stay submerged. She loved John Wolfe, and it did not matter that most people would say he was a virtual stranger to her. Her heart had given itself to him.

She knew it in the way her heart leaped whenever he came into the room, in the way she trusted him to rescue her, in the way she feared for his safety or waited for his smile or melted in his arms. There was no way she could reason herself out of that surety. She found that she did not even want to.

Not, of course, that she would tell him so. It was far too soon, and their relationship was far too unsteady. A declaration of love would be more likely to make him turn and run than to induce him to offer his love in return.

"What are you thinking?"

"What?" Startled from her thoughts, Priscilla looked up at John. "Why?"

"You were smiling," he explained. "This little secretive smile. It made me wonder what mischief you were brewing."

Her smiled broadened. "No mischief. But it is a secret. I shall tell you someday."

"That's guaranteed to arouse my curiosity."

"When do you think he will come?" Priscilla asked, changing the subject.

John raised an eyebrow, just to let her know that he was aware of her maneuver, but followed her lead. "Our friend Will said in the middle of the night. Exactly what that means, I'm not sure. Nor am I sure that Mr. Mapes will, either."

Priscilla stiffened, and she gripped John's arm hard. "Look!" she whispered urgently, pointing a finger.

He looked in the direction she indicated, at first seeing nothing. Then he realized that there was a flash of light somewhere in the trees, then another. It grew gradually steadier and brighter until it resolved itself into a bobbing glow. John took his arm from around Priscilla and moved into a low crouch, leaning forward a little and staring, poised for action.

Finally the edges of the moving light reached the small clearing, and a moment later Will's squat companion came into view, carrying a lantern. He moved without caution, striding forward quickly and even whistling a bright little tune.

"Whistling in the dark," John murmured beneath his breath. "I wonder-is he confident, or trying to frighten away the shadows?"

Given Will's citified account of camping in the woods, Priscilla was willing to bet that his friend was more scared of the woods and what was in them than he would like to admit.

"Will?" Mapes called as he headed toward the front door of the shack. He lifted his lantern higher and peered at the door, which the glow revealed to be empty of any sort of guard. "Will? Where are ye?"

He walked closer to the door, his back square to John and Priscilla now. Like a flash, John was on his feet and around the bush where they had been hiding, racing toward the man. Mapes heard his approach and swung around. His eyes widened with astonishment, and he froze for an instant, barely getting his fists up before John was upon him.

The fight was brief. Mapes was a bullish sort, accustomed to head-b.u.t.ting and plowing his opponent down to the ground, where his lack of stature was little detriment and his heaviness and muscle were an advantage. Unfortunately for him, however, John was a precise, almost professional, fighter. He stopped just before the man, his long arm flashing out and jabbing the shorter man in the eye. Mapes's head snapped back, and he staggered. John came in with a blow to his midsection, followed by a solid right fist to Mapes's chin. The man's eyes rolled up, and his body went limp. He weaved and crashed to the ground.

"Good," John said to Priscilla, who had followed on his heels. "The extra lantern will come in handy."

He picked it up and handed it to Priscilla, then pulled up the wooden bar across the door. He opened the door cautiously, just in case Will had managed to get free of his bonds. He relaxed when he saw the man still lying bound and gagged.

He turned back and grabbed the limp Mapes under his shoulders and began to drag him into the shed. Priscilla hurriedly set down the lantern and moved to pick up the man's heels. They pulled the heavy weight into the shed and left him on the earthen floor beside his friend. Quickly they went back out and pulled the door to, dropping the heavy wooden bar across it to secure it.

"There. I think that takes care of those two until we get back." John turned and held out his hand toward Priscilla. "Shall we go?"

Priscilla glanced at the shack. "I- Do you think we should leave him bound like that? Mightn't it cut off his blood?"

"Now you're worried about your kidnapper's health?" John shook his head, amused. "My dear girl, you are going to have to become more callous if you keep hanging about these types."

Priscilla made a face at him. "May I remind you that it was not I who brought those two here?"

"Mm... Fair hit. Well, do not worry. Mapes is unbound. Presently he will come to, and can untie his friend's bonds. Then they can wait and think about how much they have lost through a.s.sociating with a 'gentleman' like Benjamin Oliver. By the time the constable comes to get them, I warrant they will have remembered every possible sin they know about him."

He picked up the lantern that Priscilla had set aside and relit the one he had brought. They started back the way he had come. As they walked, their steps grew slower. John slipped his arm around Priscilla to help her, and she leaned into him, sighing.

"Tired?"

"Mm-hmm... Are you sure this is the way back?"