Tears streamed down Rowena’s face, but she nodded, her lips quivering slightly. “I’m fine. Mr. Robert told me—”

“My, my,” said a silky voice. “Such a tender scene. I hesitate to interrupt.”

Moira was on her feet in an instant, clutching Rowena to her as she turned to face George Aniston.

He stood in the doorway, a dueling pistol in his hand. She had no doubt that the trigger was made to discharge at the faintest squeeze of his finger.

She started to push Rowena behind her, but Aniston’s chilly voice ordered, “Don’t move.”

Moira froze, her heart thudding sickly.

Behind her Robert cursed, drawing Aniston’s attention. “I almost forgot about you, Hurst. Put down your pistol if you wish to keep these two alive.”

Robert dropped his pistol to the floor.

Aniston curled his lip at Moira’s attire. “I fear that Hurst’s ruinous company has destroyed your sense of fashion. Even I wouldn’t wear a such a profusion of lace.” His gaze returned to Robert. “Now join your lovely lady so I can keep an eye on you both.”

“No.”

Aniston’s jaw tightened. “Don’t tempt me, Hurst.”

“If you waste your bullet on me, you’ll have Moira to deal with. If you hit me, which I doubt will happen. Moira, did you know that Aniston was once in a duel? He lost, of course. He shot so wide of his opponent that he nicked a bystander who was ten paces to the side.”

Aniston’s face was bloodred. “I did that on purpose. It was a matter of honor—”

“Before the duel, you made a big show of paying an undertaker to prepare to carry off your opponent’s body—so don’t pretend you didn’t mean to kill him. You’re just fortunate that he was a horrid shot himself.”

Robert chuckled, as if he didn’t see the mounting fury in Aniston’s thin face. “It was most amusing, Moira. The fat squire hit Aniston, but not where he intended. He shot off one of Aniston’s toes. The biggest one, I believe, wasn’t it?”

Moira noticed that Aniston’s gun hand was shaking slightly; his body was stiff with outrage.

Yet Robert continued on. “I daresay you have to order specially made shoes, don’t you? Most cripples do—”

“Stop it!” Aniston started forward, the gun pinned on Robert.

Moira realized then that as he’d been speaking, Robert had moved away from her and Rowena. He was now almost at the window.

As Aniston went forward he was moving away from the door, and soon she and Rowena could make a dash for it. Moira grasped Rowena’s hand and caught a flicker of a glance from Robert. So this is his plan. But what would happen then?

“Where is the onyx box?” Aniston asked.

“It’s gone,” Robert said. “I sent it to London this morning.”

Aniston’s jaw tightened. “I want that box.”

Robert shrugged.

Moira could hear Aniston’s teeth grinding. “Damn you!”

“Yes, quite.” Robert yawned and sat on the edge of the bed. “Early morning rescues are so tiring.”