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“The letter came a fortnight ago,” Bridie said. “In it Lord Appleby invited Miss Cecilia to come and join you both in London.”

“But I wasn’t even there then!”

“Well, he wrote as if you were. Cecilia would never have gone if—”

“No, of course not. So she went?”

“Yes. I tried to persuade her to let me go, too, but she insisted she would be all right. She said you would be there, and she would be perfectly safe with you, Miss Antoinette.”

“Did you tell her about the letter you sent to me? What was contained in it?”

“No,” Bridie said miserably. “I didn’t feel it was my place, and the contents were so shocking…Besides, you said she should not know unless it was absolutely necessary, and I wasn’t certain it was absolutely necessary.”

“I’m not blaming you, Bridie. I’m blaming myself.”

Antoinette’s need to protect her sister now seemed ridiculously naïve and shortsighted. Surely it would have been better to prepare Cecilia for the worst rather than worry about sullying her ears with shocking tales? She was momentarily overwhelmed by images of Cecilia, a prisoner in Appleby’s arms, but she pushed them aside. No time for hysterics now. This situation required prompt action and clear thinking, not a dose of ladylike prostration.

“I have your letter,” she said, “but I haven’t been able to use it yet. I was watched everywhere I went and then Lord Appleby sent me into Devon, and I was watched there, too. I have only just escaped.”

“Escaped?” Miss Bridewell echoed faintly. “Oh, my dear, so my fears were well-founded. He planned to do the same to you as he did to…?”

Their eyes met. “Yes, I think he did,” Antoinette said quietly.

“Horrible.” Miss Bridewell shuddered. “What a truly evil man.”

“Bridie, as soon as I have bathed and changed I must set off for London. Cecilia will be staying in Lord Appleby’s house in Mayfair, and if luck is with me, then His Lordship will still be in Devon, or on his journey back.”

“Lord Appleby was in Devon, too?” Bridie’s eyes were starting from her head. “Miss Antoinette, please, please tell me you have not lost the one treasure a lady has to offer her husband to that…that cad!”

Antoinette had the urge to giggle, but mastered it. “No, Bridie, Lord Appleby did not molest me…Well, not much. He sullied my reputation rather than my body.”

Miss Bridewell sighed, relieved. “A reputation can be repaired,” she said stoically, “but once a lady’s treasure is lost, then it is gone forever.”

Antoinette said nothing. She thought Miss Bridewell was too optimistic about her reputation, and how her treasure came to be lost would remain her secret until the day she died.

“The first thing I will do when I get to London is go to Mayfair and try to see Cecilia,” she declared. “Then I will get her safely away. After I’ve done that I’ll find the address in your letter, Bridie, and…Well, you know what I must do then. Once it is known what sort of man Lord Appleby really is, then he will be ostracized. Ruined. The law will turn its cold eye in his direction and he will be brought to justice and punished.”

Miss Bridewell looked relieved. “That sounds like a perfect plan, Miss Antoinette. I am so glad you’re here. I felt quite lost without you.”

“Never mind, Bridie, everything will work out, I am certain. We will be rid of Lord Appleby once and for all.”

“Yes, and we can go back to the way things were before.”

Antoinette had been thinking exactly the same thing, but hearing it spoken aloud didn’t make her as relieved as she’d expected. There was a feeling of e

mptiness deep inside her, of something lacking. Perhaps she had changed more than she realized, and it would take her a while to settle back into her old comfortable life.

Miss Bridewell was watching her anxiously. “Are you quite well, Miss Antoinette? I think you should wait until the morning before you leave for London. Surely a few hours’ delay will make no difference?”

“No, I must go at once, Bridie. Lord Appleby may be back in London tomorrow, and I can’t risk waiting. I will be all right. As long as I don’t have to go sailing.”

Miss Bridewell blinked at her questioningly. “Sailing? Why did you go sailing? You never told me.”

Antoinette reached forward and clasped her governess’s hands, forestalling any more questions. “I’ll explain when I return. When everything is comfortable again and Cecilia is safe. I’m sure we will laugh at our adventures then.”

Miss Bridewell managed a brave smile. “I hope so, Miss Antoinette, I truly do.”

By the time she reached London Antoinette was beyond tired, but she could not think of sleep when there was so much yet to do. After the steam train had chugged into Waterloo Station, she’d taken a hansom cab to Mayfair.

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