But he had failed her.

His lingers closed around the miniature. Like Samantha Briggeham, Margaret had been forced to wed, a fact Eric hadn't forgiven his father for, even when he lay on his deathbed. He had bargained innocent, beautiful Margaret away like a piece of jewelry to elderly Viscount Darvin, who wanted an heir. Rumors of Darvin's debauchery had circulated through the ton for years, but he had possessed the attributes Eric's father had sought when making the match-money and several unentailed estates. In spite of his own substantial holdings, Marcus Landsdowne had greedily wanted more. He'd thought nothing of Margaret's feelings, and the marriage had devastated her. Eric had been fighting on the Peninsula at the time and had been unaware of her situation.

He'd been too late to rescue Margaret.

But he'd vowed upon his return to help others like her, and bring attention to their plight. How many poor young women were forced into unwanted marriages each year? He shuddered to consider the number. He'd tried to convince Margaret to leave Darvin, promising he'd help her, but she'd refused to dishonor her marriage vows, and he had reluctantly honored her decision.

Since first donning his costume five years ago, he'd helped more than a dozen young women escape. And by doing it with such dash and drama, rather than by quiet financial means, he'd succeeded in bringing the problem to national attention.

He'd accomplished his goal, perhaps too well. Several months ago a reporter for The Times had dubbed him the Bride Thief, and now it seemed as if everyone in England hankered for information about him-most especially the magistrate who was determined to unmask the Bride Thief and put an end to what he called "the kidnappings."