Page 79 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

“My father took me to the Methodists for church.” Her father had told her that, even in Virginia, many who attended the British church looked down on the new sect of Methodists.

Kane scoffed. “Not a problem.”

Gus waved the matter away. “The Methodists are close enough.”

“But Papa always said the Methodists were a ragtag bunch.”

Kane rose to his feet. “Write your note for me to deliver. State your birth date and place of birth; say nothing about the Methodists. We shall have a wedding tomorrow. How’s that?”

Gus got to her feet and grinned at Zeph. “Let’s go to Half Moon Street, shall we? I say we need a proper wedding gown!”

*

After three that afternoon, Kane entered the salon with a joyful smile on his face. He declared that he returned with a letter from the American ambassador, and presented a copy to Zeph. “One copy of this he has sent to Doctors’ Commons, and another to Rafe.”

“And Zeph will have a wedding gown by two tomorrow afternoon,” Gus said with glowing satisfaction in her green eyes.

“Which means we can have the wedding the following morning, isn’t that so?” Zeph was hopeful.

“Right you are!” Kane grinned. “Happy to see it for you both!”

Zeph sat, her heart floating in all the good news. She had a gown. Gus had ordered a posy of evergreens from a florist near Piccadilly for her to carry. She was ready to be married, except for one item. She had deliberated with Gus about purchasing a proper gift to give her groom. But Rafe needed no watch, no pipe. Perhaps a cravat pin was in order, but she had no time to shop for one worthy of him.

Instead, she thought she had one unique gift that she could never buy anywhere. This item he would rejoice in. It would serve him and all their friends fresh discoveries.

She had not finished decoding all the pages in Vaillancourt’s red book, but she had completed a few lines of one page, which Rafe would shout was the best gift in the world.

The page for Deal had three sets of numbers on them. The first set translated across as Faucon. Next was the name Tauzain…followed by another wonderful revelation!

*

Rafe fiddled with the ends of his cravat.

“Let me do that.” Halsey chuckled as he limped over to Rafe and pulled out the knot he had made.

“My valet is young,” Rafe offered.

Kane nudged Carlisle. “Do not make it too complicated, Halsey. The poor man needs to be able to undo it easily.”

Rafe smirked at the seven men before him who were his friends, his colleagues, and to whom he owed so much.

Luc Bechard, whom Rafe had not seen in many weeks, stood near Halsey, smiling. When the young Frenchman had arrived in London after crossing the Channel last spring, he had taken bachelor quarters in St. James’s. He looked even thinner than he had in Paris the night they helped him escape the Conciergerie. In fact, in past months, his hair had gone white. In body, he seemed healthy but more wiry. In attitude, he seemed congenial. But Rafe wondered about his health in general. When Luc arrived, he’d been the first to be shown up to Rafe in Kane’s small back parlor. They had talked, and Rafe had expressed his hope to see Luc again soon, when he and Zeph returned to London after their honeymoon.

“What word do any of you have of the fate of Faucon?” Rafe had to know before he married and spirited his beloved away north to the small cottage he had rented for three weeks.

Kane looked at Todd Carlton. “We hunt the southern coast.”

Carlisle added, “No sign of him in London.”

O’Neill spoke up, bouncing on his toes, a small smile curving his lips. “There’s a man we follow in Dover.”

“Not to worry,” said Halsey. “We have it all in hand.”

Rafe exhaled and rolled his eyes. “I hope so.”

Carlton lifted his hands. “No more business—we celebrate a wedding!”

*