Though she didn’t want to coerce Quentin into danger, she desperately needed his assistance. “Stephen went after them to Nigel’s country estate…” Her voice faltered, but she hid her fear. “I know Nigel won’t release the children. And I am afraid he is the one who tried to have Stephen killed.” And me, she almost added.

“How long ago was it?”

“His servant Anant kidnapped the children hours ago. We’ll never catch up.”

Quentin’s gaze shifted as though he were turning over an idea in his mind. “There might be a way.” Before he could elaborate, the door opened again.

“Wait.” Lord Rothburne emerged. He wore a black cape, his silvery hair glinting against the darkness. In his hands, he held a set of pistols. “We’ll need these.”

Emily did not know what had changed his mind, but for the first time she saw a crack in his unyielding demeanor. It offered a small measure of hope. “Thank you.”

A grim frown settled across his countenance. “I will go on one condition,” he said to her.

“Name it.”

“After Quentin and I bring him back, you will retire to the countryside. Do not show your face in London again.”

Emily raised her chin to meet his arrogant gaze. “No.”

When his expression turned baffled, she added, “I am married to your son, and I will not leave him just to satisfy your overblown beliefs of what a lady should be.” She cleared her throat and folded her arms across her chest. “I am also coming with you.”

The marquess looked as though he were about to explode. “You cannot think to possibly—“

Quentin put his hands up. “Now, now. Do not be foolish, Lady Whitmore. You will stay here and wait for us to return.”

She shook her head. “You are the foolish ones. You forget that I lived with Uncle Nigel for several weeks. I know his house better than you, and I can get inside without anyone knowing.”

“Stephen would have my head roasted on a platter if I allowed you to come,” Quentin argued.

“But he won’t know, will he?” To cap it off, Emily continued, “And if you leave me behind, I shall simply follow you. It is quite dangerous for a woman of my station to travel alone, even with a suitable companion.”

The marquess’s face transformed from crimson into purple. Emily moved forward and slipped her arm in his. With a firm pat upon his shoulder, she said, “Shall we?”

Quentin offered her his other arm, coughing hastily to hide what might have been a laugh.