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Hope—and calculation—sprang into Dixon’s eyes. “Well, then I am sure we can negotiate, to ensure a better outcome for you,” he murmured.

Nate’s mouth curled into a deadly smile. “Oh yes. You’re going to return the money. If even ten dollars is missing, the bargain is void.”

“Er… All?” asked Dixon cautiously. “But it was not a trifle to come to England. You cannot expect⁠—”

“All of it,” repeated Nate in a silky tone. “Do what you must to cobble the sum together in any way you can, or the bargain is void.” He waited as Dixon opened his mouth to argue, thought again, and subsided. “And in return, I won’t tell Selwyn you’re here. I won’t tell him you’re still alive. I’ll even take you out of England and not put you on trial for embezzlement. I’ll help you to a new life, and in return you’ll never return to any of the states, or to England—although I presume I need not urge you on that, given what Lord Selwyn might feel on discovering you in his grasp once more. And if I should find you in my country…” He shrugged. “Well, the authorities there will already think you long dead.”

“That’s all?” Dixon looked as though he could hardly believe his ears.

Nate inclined his head. “That’s all.”

Dixon looked at Angelique, then at Ian. He seemed to regret the last, for his eyes widened until a rim of white showed all around the brown. He looked at Nate again and nodded so hard his disheveled hair tumbled over his brow. “I accept.”

Nate smiled at him again, and Dixon shrank away. “You never had a choice.”

When they had left Dixon to his fears and gone back down the stairs, Angelique let out her breath. “Do you think he will fulfill his part?”

“I suspect he’ll try as if the devil himself is driving him.”

Ian was staring at Nate. “You’re that devil, aren’t you? Not only coming up with this bloody daft idea but actually trying it. What’ll you do if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work.” Nate hadn’t lost that cool, focused look that put Angelique in mind of a snake gliding quietly through the grass behind its prey. “And I haven’t heard any other ideas from you, better or worse.”

Ian glowered at him. “I’ve had a few ideas,” he muttered before turning to Angelique. “And you—you, I expected more of. What are you thinking, lass?”

“Perhaps this is not the best way, Ian,” she replied quietly, “but we do not have many options. I do not know what Stafford knows about this. I do not even know for certain Selwyn committed the acts Mr. Dixon accuses him of. But I am uneasy over it all, and I don’t know how to discover the truth.”

“This isn’t meant to discover the truth, this is meant to confront Stafford!” Ian was staring at her in frustration, but now he lowered his voice and turned his shoulder to Nate, as if to exclude him. “Whatever you think of him, remember that he’s not a fool and he doesn’t like to be crossed. He’s unpredictable, Angelique, and this could go wrong in so many ways.”

“That is always possible, no matter what course we choose.”

Ian swore, his brogue so thick she couldn’t even tell what curses he used. “But the consequences⁠—”

“I have chanced them before,” she reminded him.

“Not because you created them to begin with!” he roared.

The words seem to hang in the air. Angelique felt the sting of the implicit accusation that she was being reckless and worse, careless. Ian towered over her with the fiery anger of his Highland forebears flushing his face, his hands twitching at his sides as if he’d like to grab her and shake some sense into her.

Nate said nothing, just watched the two of them with hooded eyes. He hadn’t moved from his position, leaning against the door with his arms folded across his chest. She was squarely between them, caught between the cold logic of Ian’s warning and the bright hope that Nate’s plan offered.

“Ian,” said Angelique softly. “I will understand if you won’t help me.”

Ian raked his hands through his copper hair. “Of course I’ll help you. I fear this idiotic plan puts you in danger and only helps him.” He jerked his head at Nate. “Why should I plot against Stafford so a conniving thief won’t get a knife in the back like he deserves?”

“Help me,” Nate repeated, a hint of anger breaking into his voice. “Did you listen to anything I said? I came to catch a thief and make him face justice, and now I can’t do it without putting Angelique in an impossible—perhaps fatal—position. I’d be happy enough to run Dixon through, I assure you, except that it would be exactly what Stafford and Selwyn want. Now the best I can do is return the money, which I grant is significant, but you’re utterly insane if you think Dixon is going to walk away from this a free man. I’ll hand him over to a merchant sailing for China or the first bloody pirate who crosses my path.”

Ian grunted. “That’s better than nothing, I suppose.”

“You’ve never been to sea for months at a time, I see,” Nate snapped.

“Stop,” Angelique snapped as they eyed each other like bristling pugilists. “There is one more thing we must add to the plan. If all else fails…”

“As it’s likely to,” Ian muttered.

“Good, then you will have no objection.” She drew herself up, knowing neither man would like what she was about to say. “I support Nate’s plan. It is daring, yes, and it forces a confrontation with Stafford, as Ian says, but it is necessary. If Lord Selwyn has been abusing his influence by ordering Stafford to have people killed, it matters. If Stafford has neglected his duty of care in exercising his power, it matters. If either proposition is true, it blackens all that you and I have done for Stafford, Ian, and the burden falls on us to restore things to rights.”

“You’ve got a thief’s tale and your own inclination as evidence.”