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“Dear Lord, I hope so! If she is harmed because of me …” Marco stopped, too overcome by rage and fear to complete the sentence.

Sebastian stirred from his bench, moving his gaze from the window to regard Marco with sympathetic gray eyes. “It is not your fault, my friend.” Then he frowned. “At least, I do not think it is your fault? I confess I have a thin understanding of what is happening here.”

Lorenzo snorted, muttering a curse beneath his breath. “I have no understanding what is happening here.” He glanced at Marco. “But if you need us to fend off a maniacal butler, we are here for you.”

Marco nodded in appreciation. He might yet be a stranger to England, but it had been a wise choice to travel with family and friends at his side. Even if he succeeded in distracting MacNaby, he might not be able to save Molly in the aftermath. It was going to take working together to secure her safety.

They lapsed back into silence, the night arriving so that all he could see were the hedgerows racing by in the glow of the carriage lamps, and he could not help but feel he was Dante entering hell itself. He half expected to pass through its gates, to read the inscription “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

The sound of the carriage wheels rumbling through the night was loud in his ears, or else he was certain he would have heard the laments and wails of fellow tortured souls who had neglected their duty. He had allowed a woman as compassionate as Molly, a woman full of life, to be caught by a criminal. Even if they succeeded, what if MacNaby had hurt her? Or … His stomach lurched, and he closed his thoughts off. He had already entered hell. There was no reason to descend further into its fiery pits.

Fortunately, the carriage drew to a halt, and Duncan appeared at the window to open the door and lower the steps.

“We are close, sir. The lane to the manor is beyond this copse of trees.”

Marco inclined his head and moved down the narrow road, fixing his attention on the direction of their progress. His sight required several moments to adjust to the depth of night, but soon, the distant curve of the elm arch revealed itself against the glittering sky, the moon alone distinguishing earth from heaven in a wash of pale silver.

The sighing of the wind through the branches and the distant call of an owl in pursuit of its prey were the only witnesses to the vast, waiting stillness.

Angelo stepped to his side, his presence steady and familiar.

“The darkness will serve us well.”

Sebastian joined them, his gaze trained upon the same shadowed horizon. “An auspicious night for the capture of a villain.”

Lorenzo arrived last, flexing his hands with grim anticipation. “A sound beating would not be amiss.”

Marco reminded himself that he was not alone, despite his foreign footing upon this shore. “England is turning out to be rather unpleasant ,” he remarked at last.

Angelo regarded him thoughtfully. “I should argue we are embarked upon a worthy venture with loyal companions beside us and a lady of rare courage awaiting deliverance. It may not be the path you anticipated, but it is the one Providence has laid before you. A life untested by risk is scarcely a life at all.”

Lorenzo gave a decisive nod. “Well said. I cannot claim great familiarity with Miss Carter, yet I sense that a remarkable reward lies at the end of this undertaking.”

“If I live to see its end,” Marco murmured. “Angelo, I must have your word … if I am … unable … to assist Molly myself, you shall safeguard her future.”

Angelo hesitated, his brow furrowing in contemplation. “Then allow me to take your place. Cloaked and hatted, I might approach the house unremarked. MacNaby would not discern the difference.”

“No,” Marco replied without hesitation. “This burden is mine.”

“But you are the heir … and you and Molly deserve a shared tomorrow.”

“And if I lose you both in one night?” Marco countered quietly. “I could not bear such a reckoning. This duty rests with me alone.”

“But what if he fires upon you the instant you appear?” Angelo pressed. “How shall I answer for that?”

Marco placed a steadying hand upon his brother’s shoulder. “Then you will succeed me, and you will ensure Molly’s welfare, knowing I did not shrink from the cost of her safety.”

After further exchange, Angelo yielded. It was settled that Angelo, Lorenzo, and Sebastian would advance from the rear of the manor, while Marco would present himself at the front. They dismissed the notion of involving Duncan, unwilling to place him in mortal peril.

“Sir …” Duncan spoke from the shadows, having approached unheard. “I do not presume to understand the matter, but if Miss Carter stands in danger, I wish to lend my aid.”

“I cannot ask that of you,” Marco replied.

“You haven’t, sir,” Duncan said evenly. “I offer it of my own will. I am no stranger to rough work.”

Marco studied him in the dim light. The Scotsman was tall, broad of shoulder, and muscular, the perfect footman favored by the upper classes to display their wealth. “If you are resolved? I cannot provide details, only that MacNaby has seized Miss Carter, and she must be recovered at any cost.”

Duncan inclined his head. “Miss Carter is a lady of worth. Whatever MacNaby intends, I will see it answered.”