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“You are fortunate indeed, sir,” he said. “I daresay I would fare very poorly if I were to break a leg.”

“You have no one at home who might assist you, then?” Hannah asked. She’d never considered that the gentleman might be married, and now it seemed like the most basic and important of questions.

“I do not.”

She wanted to know more, to learn about his parents, siblings, and upbringing, but before she could pose another question, he changed the subject.

“I have some news, sir.”

He had her father’s full attention immediately. “Have you found the beast who attacked my daughter?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, “but we are considerably closer than we were yesterday.”

“Please.” Her father gestured toward the chair closest to Mr. Ross. “Take a seat. Tell us what you can.”

Setting aside his cane, her father cautiously lowered himself onto his chair. Hannah reclaimed hers and sat with her hands clasped tightly on her knee.

“Is it bad news, Mr. Ross?” she asked.

“No, Miss Dennington. But it is rather more complicated than I would wish it to be.”

“How on earth could it be complicated?” her father asked.

Mr. Ross took a breath. “I have located the missing hogsheads of rum.”

“I sense a however coming,” Hannah said.

He nodded. “Your perceptiveness does you credit, Miss Dennington. There is indeed a however.” He turned his attention back to her father. “I was given the opportunity to barter whatever rum remained in the hogsheads for information on the whereabouts of the Bardsey Gang leader, and as you had told me you were willing to do whatever it took to bring the man to justice, I took the liberty of entering into the agreement on your behalf.”

“Did you, by Jove! That was rather presumptuous.”

“It was, sir. And you have my apologies for that. I was placed in a situation where time was of the essence, and the moment, once lost, would be gone forever.”

“Hmm. Well, I cannot say that I am happy about this, Ross, but as the deed is done, I certainly hope it paid dividends.”

“It did, sir. I was given a new and very promising lead. Bow Street is already acting upon the information by making visits and further inquiries.”

“Good grief, man, it sounds as though you are dropping in for social calls. This highwayman is a criminal of the very worst sort. He will not be sitting in a parlor waiting for Fielding’s men to stop by.”

“No, sir.” A slight flush colored Mr. Ross’s neck. “I did not mean to imply that we are taking this lightly. Indeed, Bow Street’s best men are working very hard to bring this case to a close.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Are you not one of Bow Street’s best men?”

“I would not presume that title, sir, but the meeting I am to attend at noon is for those involved in the investigation.”

Her father glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Well, unless you intend to be late, you’d best be on your way.”

It was remarkably fleeting, but Hannah caught Mr. Ross’s startled expression before it disappeared. His pressing meeting notwithstanding, had he hoped to stay a little longer? Was it because of the ginger biscuits or for some other reason? She swallowed her foolish disappointment. When her father figuratively donned his business hat, his focus was efficiency and results. If he saw no reason for Mr. Ross to linger, the gentleman would be ushered out forthwith.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Ross,” she said. “I hope you will come again soon. And next time, perhaps you will stay long enough to enjoy tea and biscuits.”

He smiled, and it caused a strange fluttering in her stomach. “Thank you, Miss Dennington. I should like that very much. And if I may be so bold, might I suggest that until we have the highwayman in custody, it might be best if you did not travel far by carriage, particularly at night.”

“Absolutely right,” her father said. “I assume you have nothing of that nature on your calendar, my dear.”

Her ride to Tyburn Gallows surely did not count, as she had completed it in broad daylight. But it seemed best not to mention it. “I believe Sophia was hoping that I would accompany her to an art show at the end of the week,” she said. “Other than a few afternoon calls to nearby friends and neighbors, I have nothing planned beyond Lady Telford’s ball.”

“I shall discuss your attendance at the art show with Sophia,” her father said. “But good heavens, Bow Street had better have some solid results by the time Lady Telford’s ball is here.”