Page 56 of His Wicked Charm

“I don’t know about any key, but it would only make sense that your father would—”

“Good God!” Realization rushed through Con. He jumped to his feet, sending his chair wobbling backward. “How could I have been so blind?”

“What are you talking about?” Lilah asked, vaguely alarmed.

“Lilah, those men weren’t trying to kidnap Sabrina. It’s obvious. They were after you!”

CHAPTER TWENTY

LILAH GAPED AT HIM.

“Kidnap!” Aunt Vesta gasped and turned to her niece. “Someone kidnapped you?”

“No. They got the wrong person, and it wasn’t me they wanted.” Lilah frowned at Con. “Sabrina’s parasol—”

“The devil with Sabrina’s parasol. The important thing is your hair.”

“My hair!”

“Yes, what color is it? Do people ever call it red?”

“Yes. Often,” Lilah responded with obvious annoyance. “But it’s not.”

“Well, it does have reddish tones,” Aunt Vesta mused.

Lilah frowned. “It’s strawber—”

“Never mind that,” Con waved aside their disagreement. “The point I’m trying to make is that if someone was identifying a woman to, say, some dull-witted ruffians, he would describe the most obvious things about her. Hair color. Height. However distinctive that parasol is, it wouldn’t be more important than a physical description. And no one, not even an idiot, could think Kyria is black-haired and short like Sabrina. But if this fellow had said, take the tall redhead...”

Lilah’s face paled. And suddenly, Con’s excitement was replaced by dread as the implications sank in on him. Lilah was in danger. “Oh, God. He’s still out there.”

“Who?”

“The other kidnapper—the one my sisters said escaped through the window.” He cursed under his breath. “I should have gone after him.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lilah said. “You couldn’t have found him. It was night, and he probably went into those woods behind the house. Besides, the important thing was to get your mother and sisters home.”

“Yes, but he’s free. He could come after you again.”

“What man? Someone wants to hurt Lilah?” Vesta’s voice rose in alarm. “What is this all about? I don’t understand.”

Con pushed down his anxiety. He was frightening Lilah’s aunt, and if he kept on, he was going to scare Lilah, too. Let her remain unworried. He would make damn sure nothing happened to her. Forcing a soothing note into his voice, he said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. LeClaire. You mustn’t fret. Lilah is perfectly safe here. Let me explain.”

He recounted their chase to Lilah’s aunt, making it sound far more amusing than it had been, ending with their decision to find the key. Aunt Vesta listened with wide eyes, and when he finished, she clasped her hand to her chest, saying, “Oh, my, a treasure hunt. How exciting!”

“Con, this doesn’t make sense,” Lilah said. “Why would they think I was with your mother and sisters?”

“You’ve spent a good deal of time with them recently,” he pointed out. “They might have assumed you would be with them, and that would be a good way to obscure the fact that it was you they wanted.”

“Before this, you were sure it was Sabrina.”

“I jumped to a conclusion—you know, that quality you say is my besetting sin.” He gave her a wry smile. “I let myself be distracted by that blasted parasol.”

“But what does Niles have to do with it?” Aunt Vesta asked. “Why does he want this key?”

“We assume there must be some money involved. Mr. Dearborn’s in financial difficulty,” Lilah told her.

“He was always one for gambling and, well, other sorts of things I cannot speak of in front of you, dear. I warned Alma not to marry him. Kalhoul told me what—”