I took a step forward. "You are brave. I wish…" I stopped. "I am friends with Mr. Grenville, who has a large acquaintance. Perhaps he could introduce you to a gentleman who proves more appreciative than Summerville."

She was shaking her head before I finished. "No. I know you mean it as kindness, Captain, but no."

"I wish you were not so in love with him," I said.

She shook her head again. We watched each other, the words hanging.

Henry entered at this interesting moment, carrying a black walking stick with a gold head. Mrs. Chambers took it from him, dismissed him, and put the walking stick into my hands.

"There, Captain. Tell Mr. Summerville not to be so careless with it in future."

I bowed again, but I had no more words to give her.

My coming had hurt her. If Summerville had not sent me, certain Mrs. Chambers presented a threat, she might never have realized how much he mistrusted her, how much he viewed her as an embarrassment. I'd sown a seed of darkness.

"Good-bye," I said, and left her.

When I reached Summerville's rooms in Piccadilly, his valet was dressing him to go out. Summerville turned from the mirror, his expression hopeful. He did not even inquire about my bruises. "Did you find it?"

I looked him over, from the elaborate cravat his valet had just tied to the pristine pumps he wore with pantaloons that buttoned at the ankle. I thought of his brother, the threadbare parson, and Nellie in her tiny rooms with her children and her drunken husband. I thought of lovely Mrs. Chambers and the misery in her eyes, misery Summerville had put there.

"Yes," I said.

Summerville's smile flashed. "Thank God. I knew you'd do it. Grenville said you were astonishing. Where is it?"

"In a safe place." I had stopped at Grosvenor Street and given it to Grenville's very discreet valet to look after.