To Quill’s mind, the fact that Kasi was Holkar’s only legitimate heir had nothing to do with why the company wanted him on the throne rather than one of his illegitimate brothers. He shrugged mentally. Quill had sold all his company shares a few years ago, having discovered that India men were deliberately flaunting government orders not to increase their holdings. In fact, he would agree with Gabby’s father: Kasi Rao was better off hidden in London.

Colonel Hastings was on his feet, genially kissing Lady Sylvia’s hand in farewell. She simpered her good-byes in such a harebrained fashion that it would have shocked him to the bone to see her a moment later.

“Well, gel,” she barked, the moment the colonel left the library. “If Hastings wasn’t one of the greatest fools in England, he would have had the truth out of you in a moment. You don’t lie worth a damn.”

“I don’t know,” Quill said meditatively. “I think Gabby shows remarkable innovation, given that she knows precisely where that princeling is to be found.”

Gabby blushed, but Lady Sylvia saved her from having to speak. “Of course she knows where the boy is to be found! I expect yer father has him tucked away somewhere, doesn’t he? India is a large place. They’ll never find him,” Lady Sylvia said with some satisfaction. “I don’t like those East India fellows. Mind you, Richard Jerningham always was a proper Jack Pudding, talking of becoming a missionary, and he the son of a duke! But I expect Richard kidnapped the boy for a good reason. Not that I am the least bit interested in knowing what his reason was. Come along, darling girls!” She scooped up two dogs, but the third seemed to have temporarily disappeared.

“Drat!” Lady Sylvia said as Gabby wandered about the library, peeking behind leather chairs. “She’s a little weasel, Beauty is. I’ll have to send Dessie down to find her.” And beckoning majestically, she ushered Gabby out of the room.

Quill didn’t have a chance to question Gabby until after supper, when he joined the ladies in the parlor. She was wearing the orange gown again, the one that fit her like a glove and made Quill feel like a libertine. An ungentlemanly, lecherous blackguard—the type of man who seduces his brother’s fiancée. Swearing at himself didn’t help.

“How old is Kasi Rao?” Quill asked. He would have asked anything to prevent himself from looking too closely at Gabby. He’d tossed off two brandies, but the only effect was to fire his blood with an intolerable wish to touch her again.

“Kasi will be eleven on January the fifth. Unfortunately, he is not quite that old in his abilities. He is only just learning his letters …”