Whoever had sent them to London had prepared them well. Their plan was both simple and, in the situation in which she now found herself, well nigh impossible to counter. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t escape-she would somehow-but before she did, she needed to learn more about the most puzzling aspect of this strange kidnapping.

They’d been sent to abduct not her specifically but one of the Cynster sisters-her, Eliza, or Angelica, and possibly her cousins, Henrietta and Mary, also “Cynster sisters.”

She couldn’t imagine what reason anyone would have for doing so other than a simple demand for ransom, but if that were the case, why take her out of London? Why take her off to some other man? She thought back, reassessed, but couldn’t shake the impression that all Fletcher had revealed was true-the trio were fetching her for some employer.

Hiring three people of the trio’s ilk, and a coachman and coach-and-four, and they’d been watching her and the others for over a week… none of that sounded like a straightforward, opportunistic kidnapping for ransom.

But if not ransom, what was behind this? And if she escaped without learning the answer, would she and the others still remain under threat?

They’d had fresh horses put to in High Barnet, and so rattled on past Welham Green and through Welwyn.

Eventually, the carriage slowed, and they entered a small town. Fletcher leaned forward and looked out of the window. “Knebworth.” Sitting back, he studied Heather. “We’re going to stop here for the night. Are you going to be sensible and keep your mouth shut, or do we need to restrain you and tell the landlord our tale?”