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of his men had been incarcerated for one offense or another, and each one had his own talents. In addition, Lucas Reigi, a former pirate, was in command of Thomas’s three princely ships, all anchored near London where they could be seen, and marveled at, by incoming ships.
    â€œMark Saret is on his way up here as we speak. He said he has news. Sebastian Salim has already left for Suffolk, to look for your family.” Nate gestured to Tom’s coat. “You’re going out?”
    â€œJust to familiarize myself with the city,” Tom said, deciding it was pure folly to visit Hanover Square. “Maybe I’ll take a ride up to Hampstead Heath and look at Mr. Delamere’s property once more.” Anything to take his mind from fantasies of the lovely, disheveled Maggie, the wife of some damned nobleman.
    Nate opened the door after a sharp knock, to admit Mark Saret. He’d been a Yorkshire man of business in his previous life, and his particular skills were of tremendous value to Tom. He was not a very tall man, but with his pale blond hair and fair complexion, he possessed enough charm to have bilked three different ladies out of their fortunes.
    But that was years ago. Saret was no common criminal, but possessed a fair knowledge of the law, and was no mean forger when necessary. Thomashad provided Saret with a fortune of his own, so there was no need for him to beguile vulnerable young ladies any longer, or to falsify documents.
    Unless Tom asked him to do so.
    â€œYou have Mr. Delamere’s answer?” Tom asked.
    â€œThe transaction is complete,” Saret replied. He produced the deed to Delamere’s extensive estate, along with a key, which he placed in Tom’s hand. “He could not refuse your, ahem , exceedingly generous offer. The man sold me the property late last night and we transferred the deed this morning. The old miser vacated the premises within hours of that.”
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    â€œOh dear,” said Lady Victoria Ranfield, Maggie’s very best friend from childhood. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you, Maggie, but neither did I want you to hear it at a soiree or at some other some public gathering.”
    Maggie’s sketchbook and pencil slid to the sofa beside her, and she pressed a hand to her chest, as though she could eliminate the shard of pain that sliced through her faltering heart.
    Dear God. Had she stayed at Blackmore Manor in Cambridgeshire, she never would have known, would never have had to face the truth about Julian. He’d been a negligent husband, but Maggie had never thought…She’d never dreamed…
    She leaned back against the sofa, swallowing hard, feeling light-headed. Disoriented. As though the axis of the world had shifted.
    As well it had.
    â€œAre you all right?” Victoria said, reaching over to collect the drawing Maggie had started. “Oh, bother, I should never have told you.”
    Maggie thought back upon the day Julian had proposed to her, more than eight years before. She had hoped for a better match, but her mother and Shefford had insisted that Julian’s would be the best—the only —offer she could expect. And Julian was Shefford’s best friend, besides. So much the better, according to Beatrice.
    Somehow, they’d made a decent marriage. They’d been content. At least, that had been Maggie’s belief for all these years. Julian had had his shortcomings, as had she, of course. But, fool that she was, she had not guessed this.
    She bit down on her lower lip in an attempt to quell its trembling. She supposed she should thank her good friend for informing her of her late husband’s marital infidelities.
    Yet she wondered if all her memories of Julian would now be tainted with the tinge of nausea she now felt. Would she look at her family and friends and wonder if they’d known all along that he’d sought the beds of other women during their marriage?
    Had