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“Look, Serenity, there is a footprint too. Large, from a man’s boot.”

Serenity clutched her sister’s hand. “It cannot be true!”

“It is true, though. Somebody was here and tempted him with meat. Somebody made off with Nelson. You always said it was a possibility, though I did not see much in the idea. You were right.”

“I do not want to be right,” Serenity said, sobbing. “What’s happened to him? He must be so frightened! Who took him?”

Winsome patted her hand. “Calm yourself, your weeping will not help Nelson. He has a collar on and somebody might look at it. It says who he belongs to. We should advertise a large reward in the newspapers and somebody will bring him back.”

“Do you think so?” Serenity said, grasping at any hope at all. “Do you think they would take him and then bring him back for money?”

“I hope so. We should put in the advertisement that he wears a red collar and has only three legs and one working eye. Then if someone has seen him, and really he is distinctive looking, they will remember and want the reward.”

“We must send Thomas or Charlie for Papa. We must get an advertisement in for tomorrow. Oh, I can’t bear the idea of how frightened he is and what might be happening to him. He will be so bereft and sad to be taken from his home!”

“I’ll send for Papa,” Winsome said. “You’ve got to tell Lord Thorpe that dog walking is off on account of our dog gone missing.”

“Lord Thorpe!” Serenity cried. She picked up her skirts and ran toward the house. If she could not run to her father at this very minute, she would run to Lord Thorpe.

*

Roland had been girding himself all morning. This was the momentous day. He would ask Lady Serenity for her hand and God willing she would accept.

Quinn had gone so far as to suggest a nip of brandy, but Roland had declined. If ever in his life he must be clear-eyed and clear-headed, it was this morning.

The hours had ticked by tortuously slow. Why did they go so slow when usually they were moving at a much faster pace? He crossed and recrossed his drawing room as Havoc looked on with interest. He occasionally stopped and pulled out a velvet box from his pocket—a token for his future bride.

He’d spent some time at Rundell & Bridge the previous day, examining what was on offer.

There were some very grand pieces, and Lady Serenity deserved every one of them, but then something more modest had arrested his attention.

A small gold pin, fashioned as a honeybee.

It housed two pearls comprising its body, one smaller for the head and the other larger for the body.

The fashioning of the gold had been exceedingly detailed and the whole was surrounded by diamond chips.

It was not elaborate or prohibitively expensive, but it was charming and would suit Lady Serenity.

After their talk of slatted skeps, it would show that he cared for her concerns.

She really had been concerned, too. Then, of course, he had recalled the duke claiming she had a particular affinity for bees and the pin had seemed just right.

Finally, the minute hand on the clock inched toward eleven. Roland turned to his dog. “Come Havoc, it will not hurt us to be on the early side of things.”

The mastiff got to his feet and lumbered over to him, ever agreeable to be going somewhere. Roland leashed him and set out to the square, determinedly ignoring any curtains on any of his windows that might just now be pulling aside to watch him.

He arrived at the gate to the gardens a full five minutes ahead of time. Therefore, he’d been surprised to see Lady Serenity running toward him. In a state too, and without Nelson.

She reached him out of breath. “Lady Serenity, what has happened? Has someone been taken ill?”

“Nelson,” she said, brushing tears away from her cheeks. “Somebody has taken him! He’s gone and my father is at his club and we need an advertisement in the newspapers right away so somebody can bring him back!”

This was all said in such a rush that it took Roland a moment to take it all in. “You are certain? You have looked everywhere in the house?”

Lady Serenity nodded.

Just then, Mrs. Right came running out of the house after her charge. “Lord Thorpe,” she said coldly, “as you can see, we are in the midst of an emergency. Serenity, do come back inside.”

Roland was not at all sure why the housekeeper was glaring at him just now. He did not take the dog. “Lady Serenity, I will put an advertisement in immediately. Please tell the duke that I did so and I offer a sum of a thousand pounds for Nelson’s safe return, which I am happy to do.”

“A thousand pounds!” Lady Serenity cried. “Gracious, I was thinking of pressing my father to offer a hundred pounds. Certainly, somebody will bring him back for such an amount. But is it too much to ask of you? It is an excessive sum.”

“It is nothing at all, to guarantee Nelson’s safe return.”

“I am not sure the duke will approve it, Lord Thorpe,” the housekeeper said. “He might have a mind to decline your help in this matter.”

Lady Serenity stared at Mrs. Right, aghast.

“Do not fear such a thing, Lady Serenity,” Roland said. “Nobody, not even the duke, can stop me if I wish to offer the sum. We will have Nelson returned.”

The housekeeper sniffed at the idea. Lady Serenity, however, looked very much comforted. Mrs. Right took her by the hand and walked her back to the house.

Roland sprang into action. He hurried Havoc home and directed Quinn to see to the advertisements himself. It was to be a large ad, run in all the major newspapers regardless of the cost, and offer a thousand pounds. It would catch the attention of every person who picked up a newspaper.

While that was being done, he ordered his horse saddled. He would tour the neighborhood, attempting to discover if anyone had seen the dog. He would discover if anybody had seen anything at all.

As he waited for his horse to be brought round, Havoc stared dolefully at him, no doubt wondering why they’d not gone on a walk.

Roland could not help thinking of poor Nelson.

He could not help thinking of what his own feelings would be if it had been Havoc.

It was precisely what he had feared when Havoc had been small enough to take.

He willed himself to stay in control, but it was just the sort of thing that set him off. A poor animal taken from his home. The little dog must be terrified.

Who would take him? For a brief moment he wondered if somehow whoever was responsible for sending his stablemaster and his grooms on a goose chase to the Wapping high street and Nelson gone missing were connected. He could not see how it made sense though.

The only idea that did make sense was that somebody had taken Nelson in order to ransom him back.

The duke was known to have deep pockets, making him a target for that sort of thing.

Roland was in no doubt that somebody would come forward to collect the reward.

Likely with some ridiculous story of finding the dog on their doorstep and kindly taking him in from the cold out of Christian charity and a pure heart.

“Your horse is out front,” Quinn said. “I’ll take a hackney to Fleet Street, it will be faster than waiting for the horses to be hitched to the carriage.”

Roland nodded. He could not say much, as his feelings were teetering on the edge regarding Nelson’s current situation.

“You are sure? You will offer a thousand pounds?”

“Very,” Roland said, striding out of the house.

Roland rode round the square, questioning passersby. When that did not lead to any information regarding the whereabouts of Nelson, he expanded his search to nearby streets. Then, finally, the park.

Nelson was nowhere to be found. Nobody knew anything about it.

Whoever had taken him had been careful he was not observed.

Nelson must have been hidden from view in some way.

Anybody who’d even glanced at that dog would remember him.

He had a very original appearance. Nobody had seen him, though.

The reward was the only thing that would bring Nelson back.

He reluctantly turned his horse and headed for home. He must at least confirm with Quinn that they’d made the deadline for an advertisement. That was the only hope for Nelson now.

*

Mrs. Right was well used to dealing with an upset from one or another of her girls. Not since their mother died, though, had the roof been raised in such a manner. And even then, Valor had been an infant and Winsome and Verity still too young to really take it in.

Notes had been speedily sent to the three eldest sisters to relay the unfolding emergency and they had all three made their way to the house with alacrity. So now, on top of Serenity, Winsome, Verity, and Valor weeping, they had added in Felicity, Grace, and Patience.

The duke had been called back from his club, and he did do his very best to comfort his girls. But what was one man to do with seven crying daughters?

Mrs. Right had finally, in the late afternoon, put Serenity to bed with a bit of laudanum. The girl really did need to calm herself and sleep for a few hours, else she would make herself ill.

As the rest of the girls consoled one another in the drawing room, Mrs. Right softly knocked on the library door. The duke had taken a momentary refuge there to regroup.

Summoned in, the duke said, “Still hysterics in the drawing room, I imagine?”

Mrs. Right nodded. “Aye, they’ll be drained of all tears by the end of it.”

“I hope the end of it is we get that dog back,” the duke said. “He’s an odd little thing and awful to look at, but he’s grown on me.”

“I am certain things will come right,” the housekeeper said, though she was not certain at all.

“I expect so, the reward is big enough. I’d like to know who would look at Nelson and then think about becoming a thousand pounds richer and have things come down on Nelson’s side. Very gracious of Thorpe to offer such a sum. I expect a proposal is in the offing.”

Mrs. Right did not quite know what to do with that statement. The duke would allow Lord Thorpe to propose? Was there some scheme here she could not see?

“A fourth daughter wed, and Lady Misery had no faith that I could do it. Hah! The jest is on her.”

“You mean to allow it to go forward, then?” Mrs. Right asked. She could hardly believe it to be true, but what else could she think?

“Why shouldn’t I? Thorpe is an upstanding sort of man and he’s a marquess. Serenity likes him and she will be a duchess someday. Good all round, I’d say.”

“But Your Grace! Do you not fear—” Mrs. Right did not finish that sentence, as she did not exactly know how to mention that she’d read the duke’s correspondence.

The duke had leaned back and folded his arms. “Mrs. Right, we have known each other a good long while. Whatever it is on your mind, out with it.”

She had no choice. She’d have to admit what she’d done to have any chance at talking some sense into the duke and saving her dear Serenity from that rogue of a marquess.

“Well, as it happens, I do not know if you are aware, but there are times when one is dusting and straightening things when one’s eyes, terrible traitors that they are, will take in words suddenly thrust upon them.

Words written down. On a paper. Those words might be anywhere at all and a person cannot always direct their eyes in a preferred direction—”

The duke held his hand up. With a snort, he said, “A person cannot always direct their eyes in a preferred direction? I’d find it rather uncomfortable if my eyes were going off doing things without me.

Mrs. Right, if you were to put that idea in plain English, do you mean to say that you accidently read some of my correspondence? ”

“Aye, that would be the plain English of it.”

“I see. And I will make a giant leap and imagine that correspondence was from some lowly servant in Lord Thorpe’s household.”

“Yes, and so you can see why I did not think—”

“That I would allow one of my daughters to wed a scoundrel who had meddled with a housemaid.”

Mrs. Right nodded sadly. She really could not understand it. It seemed so unlike the duke!

“That letter was not written by a servant in Lord Thorpe’s household, but rather, an unhappy younger brother.”

Mrs. Right staggered back and fell into a chair. The letter was written by Lord Charles?