Benedict turned and headed back into the Tricorn. He already had his trusty Baker rifle—the strap of its leather case was strung across his body in anticipation of dealing with Johnstone—but he took the stairs two at a time and went back into his apartment. He retrieved a pair of dueling pistols from his desk drawer, loaded them with the ease and efficiency of long practice, thrust them into his belt, and hastened back downstairs.

Alex and Seb were still in exactly the same place on the doorstep. Ben leapt down the steps toward the stable, shouting for one of the grooms to saddle his horse. His friends were close behind him.

Seb frowned in sudden recognition. “Caversteed? Not that cheating whoreson I had thrown out of here last night?”

“The very same.”

Seb whistled. “Her cousin, eh? He’s a nasty piece of work.”

Ben mounted his chestnut stallion and motioned to his friends to get out of the way.

“You’re off to rescue the damsel in distress, then?” Alex said.

“Of course I bloody am. She’s my wife.” Benedict scowled. “I swear, if he’s harmed one hair on her head, I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born.” He kicked his heels to the stallion’s sides and clattered out of the yard.

It took him less than ten minutes to ride to Grosvenor Square, and he cursed every slow-moving cart, stray dog, and suicidal pedestrian that got in his way. He turned into the square to find a traveling post chaise pulled up in front of the house and Juliet standing on the steps, a traveling trunk and several band boxes piled at her feet.

He clattered to a stop behind the chaise. “What’s all this?” he demanded sharply. “Where’s your mother? Where’s Pieter?”

Juliet’s face paled, and she clasped her hands to her bosom.

“Don’t even consider fainting,” Benedict growled.

She swallowed visibly. “Pieter’s visiting his sister, and M-mother’s having lunch with Lady Cowper.”

Benedict narrowed his eyes at the luggage. “And what are you doing?”

Juliet managed to look both flustered and extremely guilty. “Oh, you mustn’t say anything! Simeon and I are eloping. Don’t try to stop us, Mr. Wylde, I beg you.” She achieved a wonderful imitation of a tragic Greek heroine, all wrinkled forehead and glistening eyes.

Ben kicked his boot from the stirrup and dismounted. “I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you do. Your cousin’s taken Georgie.”

Juliet’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean, taken her?”

“I mean, he’s kidnapped her for ransom. Now go inside and get me her jewels and any cash you have in the house. Quickly now.” When Juliet just stood there gawping, he snapped. “Go!”

Juliet went.

“Don’t talk to my fiancée like that!”