She ran up to her lodgings, got a pair of scissors, and cut the reel of string from her kite, then hurried back downstairs to where Matthew waited. When she arrived, he rolled the man named Dibble over onto his belly and held out his hand for the string. “I can tie him.”

“Make it tight.”

He brought Dibble’s wrists together. She knelt and began wrapping the kite string around, over and under, his wrists. “He said his name is Dibble.”

“You’ve never seen him before?”

“No.”

“Fancy, he was probably lying. Part of a game he plays to dupe someone into giving him what he was seeking to obtain.”

She desperately wanted that to be true, but he’d been so confident. “What do you think will happen to him?”

“The constables will lock him up in a cell. In a few days he’ll go to trial for attempted robbery and accosting you.”

She drew some comfort from his words, wanting Dibble locked up for being a nasty bit of rubbish if nothing else.

“There, that’s good. Cut the string, knot up the ends.”

As she tried to position the scissors, she realized her hands were shaking too badly. Matthew closed his hand over hers. “It’s all right.” Taking the scissors from her, he finished off the task. Then moved down to Dibble’s feet. “I don’t want him getting up and running off while I’m gone.”

“I have a skillet. I could conk him on the head if he wakes.”

“That’s my girl.”

When Dibble was tightly bound, Matthew cradled her cheek. “I won’t be long. Close the door, bolt it in case he has friends. Don’t open it until I call for you.”

“You will be careful.”

He gave her a cocky grin. “I will be back, I promise.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his handkerchief and stuffed it into Dibble’s mouth. “For good measure, in case he wakes up. You don’t need to hear his horrid words.”

Then he was gone, and she was left alone with this vile creature. After bolting the door, she moved nearer to him, crouched, and studied his face, searching for any familiar characteristics, looking for any of herself in him.

It was impossible to know what his nose might have once looked like because it appeared to have been broken or smashed several times. She wondered if he was a boxer by trade. She couldn’t imagine that he was a very successful one. She recalled his eyes being dark, but she was rather certain she’d gotten her eyes from her mum. Black hair, but so was her mum’s.

His cheeks were rounded. Hers high and sharp. He had a mole on his jaw near his ear. She had no moles.

His eyes popped open, and she fell on her bottom in surprise. He began struggling with the bindings and groaning.