In the dimness within the carriage, she couldn’t truly see his eyes, but she looked in that direction and nodded.

“Smart girl,” the wiry one said. The comment held no sarcasm. “He did say you’d be clever.”

He, who?She watched as the wiry man, seated opposite, bent, reaching for her feet, then stopped.

He flicked a glance at the woman beside her. “Best you untie her feet.” Straightening, he reached for the cords binding Heather’s wrists.

Puzzled, she glanced at the woman, who huffed, then lumbered off the seat and crouched between the benches. She reached beneath Heather’s silk skirts to the linen strip wound about her ankles.

While they worked to loosen the bonds, Heather realized they’d been mindful of her modesty-as mindful as she’d allowed them to be. She hadn’t imagined kidnappers would be so… gentlemanly.

Once her feet were free, the woman settled back beside her. “The gag, too?” the woman asked the wiry one.

His gaze on Heather, he nodded. “We’re to allow her as much comfort as possible, so unless she’s sillier than we all think, no need to keep it on.”

Heather turned her head, allowing the woman access to the knot at the back of her skull. When the linen fell from her face, she moistened her lips, worked her jaw, and felt a great deal better.

She looked at the wiry one. “Who are you, and who sent you?”

He grinned-a flash of white teeth in the shadows. “Ah, now, you’re getting a trifle ahead of us there, miss. I think perhaps I’d better first explain that we were sent to fetch one of the Cynster sisters-you or one of the others.