Robert’s mouth tightened at the idea of Lisa being locked in somewhere, staring at Findlay’s choice of torture tools, terrified and dreading what would come when the ball ended and he returned.

“She also said, don’t expect no help from the servants or anyone else you encounter inside. They all know what’s what and either turn a blind eye, or actively participate.”

“Participate?” Robert asked sharply.

Smithe nodded. “Findlay lets some of his pet servants have a go at the girls on occasion. Either whipping them or . . . well, the other. Sometimes both.”

A low growl slid from Robert’s lips at this news and he turned a glowering look on the house. He would kill the bastard and his servants if any of them had laid a hand on her. Hell, he thought he would probably kill Findlay anyway on principle alone. The man was an animal.

“Did she say anything about what kind of locks we might encounter, or the best route to take to get to the basement?” Richard asked into the silence.

“Back door, she said,” Smithe answered. “Through the courtyard and around the house. The door to the basement is in the kitchens. But she said the kitchens are always busy. It won’t be easy to slip in.”

“We’ll need a distraction then,” Daniel said grimly.

“Yes we will, and I have an idea about that,” Smithe responded.

All three men turned to him at that comment. It was Robert who asked, “What idea is that?”

Smithe hesitated and then said, “Well, now, I’m thinking you men won’t like it none. But I’m deuced sure it will work.”

“What will work?” Robert asked impatiently.

Smithe pursed his lips and then said, “It seems to me the only thing that goes in and out of that basement is women.”

“Women?” Daniel asked blankly.

“Yes sir. On a regular basis too. That gal I told you about said that Findlay not only sometimes shares women with his men, but that sometimes he surprises them with a couple just for them. Keeps them happy and less likely to go squawking to anyone about what Lord Findlay gets up to,” Smithe said dryly. “And I’m thinking with a lady in there, he might send his men a couple of gals to keep them from getting any ideas about playing with his new toy before he does.”

“Miss Madison is not a toy,” Robert said with cold fury.

“Beggin’ your pardon, my lord. But she is to Findlay.”

“Are you suggesting we hire a couple of prostitutes to distract Findlay’s men so Robert, Daniel and I can slip in and get Lisa out?” Richard asked slowly.

“We could do that,” Smithe said. “But you risk one of them speaking up later and raising a scandal for Miss Madison and the rest of you. It might be easier and safer all around just to enlist the aid of your wives.”