Diana was relieved to leave Grosvenor Place for the less-traveled Arabella Row. Although a lady riding horseback was common enough, it was generally in the park, in the company of a groom and at a fairly sedate pace. Two women racing down a busy street at a near-gallop turned nearly every head they passed. It wasn't terribly scandalous, but because Diana was an heiress and an Original, the run was sure to become on dit.

Although she did not relish being the subject of gossip, Diana had other concerns on her mind at the moment. Sheila had slowed her horse slightly and guided it close enough to speak. "D'ye wish t'be visitin' York or Chapel first?"

Diana glanced around them, a bit dismayed. "I need a moment to get my bearings. I am not familiar with this area of Town."

"Not t' worry," Sheila reassured her. "I used t'work for Lady Seaton, and her livin' in Belgrave. I've been in this part of London often enough."

"Which street is closest?"

"York, but only by a wee block or so."

"York it is, then. Lead the way."

They were off again, at an even greater pace. They were able to gallop up the length of York Street, but did not see Blackmoor's curricle anywhere. Sheila reined her horse in order to turn down a small lane and Diana gamely followed. They trotted down several more tiny lanes and were just approaching a slightly wider street when both their mounts shied back from an out-of-control gig that rattled past.

Diana's mouth fell open. "That was..."

"Preston," Sheila said in amazement. "Holy Mother save us, for the lad isn't knowin' the first thing about horses."

The girls hesitated only long enough to exchange glances before racing after the curricle. It wasn't quite a runaway, but plainly the horses and not the driver were in charge of the situation. However, the animals grew obedient enough under the firm hold of the young women and responded when Preston began pulling steadily back on the reins as instructed by Sheila.

"Faith, Preston," Sheila gasped when they'd finally come to a halt. "Have ye lost yer senses? And you not knowin' a thing about horses."

"No choice," Preston panted. "I had to get help...but--but I couldn't find a hack."

"Get help?" Diana's voice rose in alarm. "Where are Lord Blackmoor and Bobby?"

"Inside. He caught them and he has Lord Rayner. He didn't know I was there because I was hiding from the butler--"

"Faith, Preston," Sheila dismounted and hurried towards him. "Yer makin' no sense."

Preston took a deep breath and tried again. "We found the house and went inside. I almost ran into the butler--"

"Is Lord Rayner there?" Diana cut him off when he began to ramble again.

"Yes. I saw him."

"Do you know who this man is?"

"Lord Blackmoor said it was a Baron Vengrave."

"And they're in danger?"

"He has a pistol."

Ignoring Sheila's gasp, Diana persisted in her questions. "And do you know his address?"

Preston frowned slightly because Diana had barely glanced at him during the interrogation and instead kept looking up and down the street, but she seemed to be paying attention, so he replied--"Forty-seven York Street."

"I may need this horse, Miss O'Brien," Diana took Sorlars' reins. "Wait for me. I'll only be a moment." She kicked her mount and galloped back the way they had come.

Sheila moved to the horses' heads and led them in a tight circle before climbing in and taking the reins from Preston. "Were any of them hurt?"

"Not yet," Preston said before he thought. Then he hastily added, "From what I saw, the man likes to take his time about such things."

"Bloody madman," Sheila whispered, then looked up at the clatter of hooves.

"I've sent a man to Kelthorne with a note, but Vengrave must be stopped at once." Diana barely reined her horse long enough to speak before galloping up the street.

Preston had no time to even consider replying before Sheila was snapping the reins and urging the pair to a run.

Diana had dismounted by the time Sheila halted the curricle, and started towards the front steps, leaving the others to catch up.

Preston broke into a run, "My lady!" He moved to block her way, "Lady Silverbridge, you can't mean to announce yourself at the front door."

Diana halted, looking hesitant for the first time since starting out. "How did you get inside, then?"

"Through the kitchen," Preston explained, leading them to the back door. "Almost all the servants are out of the house. The only one we have to watch out for is the butler."

"Is the butler knowin' what his master gets himself up to?"

Preston shook his head. "I couldn't say for certain. He must, though, or Vengrave would have sent him away with the others."

The trio fell silent when they reached the door, and remained so while Preston led them through the house and up the stairs. They did not encounter the butler anywhere, but were still as careful and quiet as possible. Preston paused several steps from the top, but Diana brushed past him for a better look. Although she made no sound, Preston felt her stiffen when she caught sight of the room's interior.

When Diana moved to go up another step, Preston grabbed a fold of her skirt to stop her, surprising them both. Diana turned to frown at him, as unused to having street urchins tug at her dress as Preston was to doing it. Still, he managed to marshal himself enough to shake his head firmly. And in vain, because Diana's frown only deepened and she fumbled in her large reticule and pulled out a pistol.

Preston released her skirt at once. Now resigned to the inevitable, he did not need Sheila's nudge at his back to prompt him to follow Diana up the last few steps and towards the half-open door.

Wishing for soft slippers instead of riding boots, Diana moved carefully down the hall, making certain that her heels didn't make the slightest click on the floor. As she angled herself through the half-open door, Eric caught sight of her and his jaw dropped. Diana couldn't keep the scowl off her face because she was certain Vengrave would notice in seconds. Swiftly, she stepped through the door and raised the pistol in both hands. "Baron Vengrave, I advise you to lower that pistol at once."

Diana watched Vengrave start slightly and the pistol in his hand dropped lower almost on reflex. She heard Sheila and Preston hurry to follow her into the room and took her eyes off Vengrave long enough to glance at his captives. She had a fleeting impression of Hank's amazement, Bobby's admiration and Eric's furious disapproval before focusing her full attention back on the Baron. "Lord Blackmoor," she spoke to Eric but kept her eyes and pistol on Vengrave. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to free Lord Rayner. I believe we should be on our way."

Eric looked as though he had several things he wanted to say in response to the order and even opened his mouth once or twice. After several moments of glaring, however, he thought the better of it and turned to the table to begin untying Hank.

"Don't touch him!" Vengrave seethed. "He is my portrait. You have no rights to him!"

"Bobby," Sheila gestured to the open door just behind her. "Come away at once, macushla."

After a quick glance at Hank, Bobby readjusted his crutch under his arm and began stumping toward his sister.

"You!" Vengrave snarled as the boy drew even with him. "You presumptuous little bog-trotter!"

Bobby stopped and when it looked at though he might respond, Sheila spoke again, more firmly--"Come away, Bobby."

Diana saw the Baron's eyes narrow at Bobby, alight with mad cunning. "Mr. Hatfield," she said quietly. "Perhaps it would be best if you relieved Baron Vengrave of his pistol."

Both Preston and Vengrave started and looked at Diana, one with uncertainty and the other with intense malice. Then Preston began to move hesitantly toward the Baron, who looked around the wildly before focusing on the table where Hank was trying to raise himself on trembling arms.

Preston approached carefully, his hand outstretched for the pistol at Vengrave's side. Bobby stopped halfway across the room, watching with interest. His eyes soon widened in horror when Vengrave grabbed Preston by the scruff of the neck with his free hand and tossed the youth viciously aside.

When she saw the hand gripping the pistol swing upward, Diana screamed "No!" and fired her own pistol. Vengrave flinched, but the shot went harmlessly past him and shattered the window just behind. Without so much as a glance to aim, Vengrave fired toward the table, wringing a yell from Eric and a hoarse shout from Hank. Then he dropped his pistol and advanced on Diana. He hadn't gone more than a step before Bobby barrelled into his midsection, crutch and all. With a pained grunt, Vengrave stumbled closer to the window, but managed to lock his fingers around Bobby's neck as he went. "Better that I'd killed you the moment I found you in the gutter!" he snarled.

"Bobby!" Sheila rushed to her brother's aid, barely noticing when she collided with Diana in her blind panic.

Bobby's frantic stuggles had backed Vengrave up against the broken window frame. When both girls fell against them as well, momentum and gravity took over. His hands still locked around Bobby's throat, Vengrave had no way to stop himself as he toppled out the window.

Seeing Bobby being dragged out as well, both girls lunged for him. Sheila only managed to grab two handfuls of his shabby vest, but Diana caught hold of his good leg and grimly held on.

Bobby scrabbled desperately but uselessly at the hands cutting off his breathing. He felt himself falling, then was suddenly jerked to a halt in midair and slammed against the damaged window frame. Vengrave's hands were wrenched away as the Baron continued his deadly plunge and Bobby saw stars as pain lanced through both his leg and head. Then there was only darkness.

The next thing Bobby was aware of were a multitude of aches and pains throughout his body. In his initial fogginess he thought the cause was his sister's deathly tight embrace, but as his mind cleared, he realized he was covered in dozens of cuts and slashes. He heard frantic voices coming from all around, and tried to straighten up, only to have Sheila tighten her hold.

"Be still, mavoureen," she murmured. "'Tis all over and done with now."

Bobby settled for shifting slightly and craning his neck to look around the room. Hank was freed from his bonds and sitting up, apparently injured, although he was so weak and exhausted that he needed Diana's support to remain upright. Eric was on the floor, his coat and shirt soaked with blood, and Preston was crouched over him.

"How bad is it?" Hank's voice was barely audible.

"I don't believe he's in any immediate danger," Preston replied, tying Eric's cravat into a makeshift bandage. "I've managed to stop the bleeding, but he will need a surgeon--and soon."

"Rather good work for an apprentice," Eric sounded mildly surprised.

"One of us will have to go for help," Diana said. "Obviously neither of their lordships are in any condition to do so. Miss O'Brien, if you would prefer to stay here with your brother, Mr. Hatfield and I will drive to--"

"You'll do no such thing," Eric said, managing to sound arrogant in spite of his weakness. "God knows there will be enough scandal if word ever gets out that you were here and--"

Diana shot him a dangerous scowl. "I do beg your pardon if my concern for your well-being overwhelmed any sense of propriety. Rest assured it will not happen again."

Eric blinked and quickly tried to backpedal. "Not that we aren't grateful for the way you came to our aid, but--"

"And Miss O'Brien," Hank added, his voice sounding a bit stronger.

Sheila looked up in surprise and Bobby barely managed to smother a grin.

"--and Miss O'Brien came to our aid," Eric acknowledged. "But still--"

A sudden commotion from the ground floor made everyone freeze momentarily. When it was followed be angry voices, Sheila scrambled for the pistol Vengrave had dropped and Preston picked up the one Diana had discarded.

"They'll be of little use," Eric pointed out.

"They're all we have," Sheila retorted, forgetting to be respectful.

She got to her feet and took aim, but when the first man rushed through the door, she let out a startled yelp and let the useless weapon clatter to the floor.

The Duke of MacArran paused only long enough to glance at Sheila and comment-- "Have a care with that, lass," before kneeling on the floor next to his grandson.

Lord and Lady Ravenwood were next through the door, followed closely by Lady Wylde.

Diana, rather giddy with relief, caught her guardian's hands. "Lady Wylde, Lady Ravenwood, don't you know it is highly dangerous for you to be rushing into such a situation?"

"Nonsense, child," Lady Wylde said sharply. "We both brought pistols."

"A lady carrying a pistol? Fancy that." Diana grinned at Eric, but he far too surprised by his grandfather's tight embrace to even consider a reply.

"Very clever of you to send that note, Lady Silverbridge," Lord Ravenwood complimented her while his wife fussed tearfully over Hank. "And no doubt you have an equally clever explanation as to why the famous Baron Vengrave is out front impaled on his own fence when--"

The ball given by Lady Wylde to celebrate the engagement of Lady Silverbridge to the Marquis of Blackmoor was grand enough to rival the MacArran Masque. Among those in attendance were the Viscount and Viscountess Rayner. Hank and Sheila had been engaged at Christmas, well after Hank's recovery, and were wed six months later. They had only recently returned from their wedding tour and were still receiving best wishes from all and sundry, so it was no great surprise when a diminutive man approached them and gave a polite bow. He was extremely short and wrinkled and seemed to be trying to make up for his lack of height by wearing his white hair extremely long.

The little man congratulated them on their recent marriage and inquired about their wedding trip to Ireland and how Sheila's brother was getting on in his new surroundings.

Knowing how news travelled through Society, Hank and Sheila thought nothing of this knowledge and replied that Bobby had adapted quite nicely to life with the Earl and Countess of Ravenwood. Bobby had grown accustomed to being doted upon while living in the home of Lady Wylde when Sheila acted as companion to Diana. It was this elevated position that allowed Sheila and Hank to wed with merely a few raised eyebrows rather than a scandal.

When the little man commented that Lord and Lady Ravenwood might not be the most steadying influence on a rambunctious eleven-year-old, the newlyweds were indignant but still managed to smile politely.

When the little man asked after the progress of Preston Hatfield, who had become the protegée of the Duke of MacArran, the newlyweds wondered why he did not ask the Duke himself. Still, they replied that Preston was very successful in his medical studies and was getting on surprisingly well with both the Duke and Eric.

When the little man began talking about Hank's captivity at the hands of Baron Vengrave, the newlyweds abruptly ended the conversation and made their way to the other side of the ballroom. No one except their close circle knew the true cause of Vengrave's death and Hank couldn't imagine where the little stranger learned enough to ask such detailed questions.

They had just finished telling Eric and Diana about the odd little man when they were joined by Lord and Lady Ravenwood. "I see you finally made the acquaintance of the Earl of Masters," Lady Ravenwood said.

"I beg your pardon," Hank blinked in confusion. The only contact he'd had with the man whose title he was to inherit was a single letter after the announcement of his engagement.

"We just spoke to him. He seemed quite pleased with both of you. Of course, we had no notion he was even in Town."

"Just like the man," Lord Ravenwood added. "No sign of him for months--not even a letter, and then he just appears out of nowhere."

Hank's jaw had dropped and Sheila's expression was a mixture of horror and amusement. "That...that was the Earl of Masters?" Hank asked weakly.

"He didn't even introduce himself," Eric did not sound impressed.

"We were after bein' a wee bit short with him," Sheila explained to Lady Ravenwood.

"We really should speak to him again," Hank said.

Lord Ravenwood glanced around. "There he is, near the door to the buffet."

Sheila took Hank's arm and they quickly made their way back across the room, but when they got there, Masters had disappeared. Bobby and Preston, however, were just leaving the buffet with full plates. "Have you seen a very short little man?" Hank asked them. "Either of you?"

"He was just speaking to us," Preston said, seeing as Bobby's mouth was to full to reply. "Then he went to speak to Lady Wylde. There," he pointed. "By the staircase."

They looked and saw a glimpse of long, white hair. Pausing only long enough for Sheila to tell Bobby not to eat too much, they hurried to the staircase only to find he'd vanished again. Hank sighed, "Where on earth does he keep disappearing to?"

"Not to worry," Sheila assured him. "If he's after wantin' to speak to us again, surely he knows where to find us."

"True enough," Hank looked to the dance floor where Eric and Diana had begun the first waltz. "Shall we dance then, my Lady Rayner?"

"We will that, my lord," Sheila smiled as she took his hand.

-Fin-