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“It’s customary,” Lynley said, subduing his anger, “in my line of work to relieve ladies of their baubles and gentlemen of their purses. As traffic is slow on the road tonight, I thought to try my luck here.”

The young man affected composure, but looked closely at Lynley’s pistol. It was the gun he’d wished he’d had at fourteen when his mother’s lover had laughed in his face. Its curved stock fit in Lynley’s hand. The adjustable hair trigger, roller bearings, gold-lined touchhole, waterproof pan, and patent breech made it a formidable weapon.

“A highwayman, are you? Have some baubles then and be off with you,” the young man suggested. He gestured toward two traveling cases that stood next to the door directly in Lynley’s path. Lynley glanced at the cases, noting that the trim and fittings marked one as belonging to a female.

“And leave a lady in such obvious distress?” Lynley moved closer without leaving the shadows. “As courtesy to ladies is the first principle of the highwayman’s code, I must ask you to untie your companion.”

“Well, I won’t,” said the young man mulishly. “She’s tied up for her own good.”

“Clive,” Lady Ravenhurst cried. “Don’t leave me.” She stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. She had the sort of delicate helpless beauty to which, Lynley knew, many men were drawn. His mother had had that sort of beauty.

“You must enlighten, me, Walhouse—it is Walhouse, isn’t it?—as to the advantage to the lady of being abandoned and bound in an unoccupied house. Are the cloak and boots to keep her warm when you’re gone?”

“Who the devil are you?” Walhouse kept his gaze on Lynley. “I’m not the villain here. Barksted is. He hounded her into this mad flight. No doubt her dolt of a husband is on his way.”

“Eager to wash your hands of her, are you? Your horses are ready, Walhouse. You may leave as soon as you release the lady.”

“I told you, it is better for her to be found tied up.” Walhouse sent a calculating glance toward the two cases and the door. There was a cold, contemptuous cast to his features. Lynley had seen that look before on the face of his mother’s lover. It was the look of a man who believed women to be the natural prey of men.

“Then we are at an impasse, I fear,” said Lynley.

“Oh very well, but you’re making a mull of the whole thing.” Walhouse turned to Lady Ravenhurst and began to undo the rope binding her to the chair.

“Clive,” she said, “you were going to take me to Paris.”

He pulled ruthlessly at her bound hands. “Only if you kept your end of the bargain,” he said bitterly.

“My end,” she cried. “I sent your gloves. Where could I send your other things? Your coat, your hat? Archer told me you were nowhere to be found. I didn’t hear from you.”

“Hush. Not another word. You’ll hang for treason if you’re not careful.” Walhouse pulled the last rope free from Lady Ravenhurst’s feet.

“Treason?” She looked at him with shocked awareness. “Ravenhurst’s papers. It was you. You stole them. You used me.”

“Ah, Pamela. Those papers were part of your charm. You’re expensive, you know, and your gaming debts had to be paid.”

Lady Ravenhurst shrank at the cruel words. “You deceived me. I depended on you.”

“Oh come, no harm done. You’ve had an adventure. You can go back to Ravenhurst, or you could before this fellow’s interference. You were better off tied up.”

“Go, Walhouse,” said Lynley. “You’re done here.”

Walhouse shrugged. At the door he reached for his case.

“Leave it,” Lynley ordered, his pistol leveled at Walhouse.

“Clive!” It was an anguished cry, and it made Walhouse check for an instant.

Lady Ravenhurst jumped up and threw herself after her departing lover, her feet tangling in her cloak. Lynley reached to arrest her fall, catching her by one arm. Walhouse seized his traveling case. Lynley just had time to fire. The doorframe splintered. Walhouse shrieked and then was gone.

The lady collapsed, sobbing at Lynley’s feet. He stuffed the spent pistol in his coat pocket and let her weep until there came a brief drumming of horses’ hooves and a rattling of wheels on the road.

“He’s gone,” Lynley said. “Come, there’s an inn nearby where you can be safe and decide what you wish to do.”

He lifted her from the floor and led her through the passage to a door at the back of the house.

“My case,” she said, turning back just as he opened the door on the dark night.

“We’ll send for it,” Lynley said. He would not burden Sultan.