The viscount had no reason to believe her, yet, somehow, every instinct told him he could. Soon afterwards, he took up the reins of his horse and led him to the path that would take him above and then across the moors to his friend and counsel, Parks.

His friend’s home wasn’t far and it didn’t take long before he saw candlelights glowing in the distance. Parks’ home was a two story cottage, with a great deal of charm. High evergreens swayed in the night wind, as though waving the viscount a welcome, and he smiled to himself.

Parks’ proximity was something the viscount had thanked the fates for since the night of his ‘death’. He hurried his horse up the winding drive to the neat stables where Jerry, the only groom his friend maintained, stuck out his head from the loft window and called, “Coo there, m’lord. I’ll be down right away, I will.”

The viscount dismounted and walked his horse into the barn and handed the reins to the older man as he shuffled towards him. “Thank you, Jerry. He needs a rubdown. I think he is blowing some.”

Jerry was missing a couple of teeth and his skin was like leather, which crinkled when he smiled, but smile he did, broadly, and said, “Aye then, don’t ye worrit none, m’lord. I’ll walk him and see he eats no grain ‘til he cools down.”

“Thank you, Jerry, though my pockets at the moment are to let, as soon as I fix this mess, I won’t forget you.”

“Whist now, m’lord. Generous ye have always been to me. I don’t need a farthing, not a one, to help ye and m’master Parks in this. Right honored I am to help.”

“Thank you, Jerry. When you stall Midnight, perhaps better use the far one in the dark corner…just in case Parks gets a visitor.”

“Aye, but no one is expected, especially not at this hour.”

The viscount made his way to the cottage where a round, pleasant-faced woman with a bob of unruly steel grey curls beneath a mop cap appeared. When she saw who it was, she clapped her hands together and ushered his lordship indoors, saying, “M’lord, it is that pleased I am to see ye, but och, now ye been losing weight, and no wonder. Mr. Parks be waiting on ye in the library, and I’ll be in with a proper meal for ye in just a moment or two.”

“Thank you, Matty, but please don’t go to any trouble. It’s late and I am certain you must be tired after a long day.”

“Such talk. Go on now.” She shooed him away with her hands. “Go on. ‘Tis m’pleasure to set a tray for ye, m’lord.”

He gave her a warm smile and moved across the narrow hall to an undersized dark oak door. The viscount relaxed a bit. Not only could he rely on his friend, but on the servants as well at Parks’ Place. It was a good feeling.

As he entered, he saw Edward Parks standing by the fire, rereading a letter he had in his hand. The sound of the viscount’s steps into the room brought his head up, and his lips twitched appreciatively as he regarded Montlaine’s appearance, surveying him up and down.

“By Jupiter, man, if you don’t look the devil himself.” Edward laughed. “Why do you insist in going about in black with your hair disheveled?”

“And good-evening to you, you old dog!” the viscount said on a chuckle. “As to my appearance, allow me to remind you that I am living in a cave. And as to black, I like black. Besides, it conceals me in the night. Now, what news have you for me?”

He watched his friend run his hands through his sandy colored hair and frown. “Not very much, Bret. Your cousin, Duncan, remains in London, an odd circumstance considering he stands to inherit.”

“But he cannot inherit, can he? Not without a body, or the passage of some defined time. Why should he come to Montlaine now? It might only appear…presumptuous, if not suspicious.”

“Yes, but the sorry truth is that while he was the only man who stands to gain from your death, he was in London at the time of the young woman’s death. I checked this with several mutual friends.”

“Was he? Or did he just appear to be?”

“Cornwall is several days journey from London. I have…” he waved the note in his hand, “received this letter from the Lady Jersey in answer to the query I put to her. She adores you, and wishes to help me clear your name, whether or not you are dead.” Edward paused and grinned. “Which is to say that she does not believe you are. At any rate, she says Duncan has been in London and seen at many of the balls and routs during the last two months. I don’t think he could have made the journey here, murdered that poor girl, and returned without note.”

Montlaine sank into a chair. “What then? Do I give myself up and hope for the best?”

“Certainly not!” Edward snapped. “Good Lord, Bret, we know one of those damned Echworths is behind it all. We simply need to find out which one. For example. How is it Sheila and her mother stood by while the villagers mobbed onto Montlaine land? And do I believe that Orson was, just by chance, visiting friends in the next county and did not return until the following afternoon?”

“The women were no doubt frightened, and as to Orson, his story can be easily checked and he knows it.”

“Aye, but I have yet to discover from him just which friends he was visiting, let alone their exact location. I tell you, Bret, ‘tis too smoky by half!”

“Are you suggesting Orson is the killer?” Montlaine shook his head. “He is a dandy of sorts, and many other things, but not a killer. Besides, he doesn’t inherit.”

“Yet his brother would,” Edward offered.

“Yes, but forget them for a moment. I now have another problem, Edward.”

“Never say so, Bret. How could you have gotten into more trouble, secluded as you have been?”

“I was on my way to you tonight. It is the reason I am late. I had only just left the cave and made my way to the moors when I was seen. She followed…”

“She? You say you were followed by a woman?” Parks’ eyes opened wide. “At night…on the moors? What kind of woman?”

“Exquisitely beautiful, and apparently adventurous. She tracked me to earth and then gave her promise freely not to divulge my secret.”

“Are you jesting? Who was this woman?”

“Lady Vanessa Grey,” Montlaine said quietly, thoughtfully, recalling her eyes, bright and inquisitive, her full cherry lips and the way they curved. Her name rang a bell, but he couldn’t place her family, try though he had.

“Upon my life! Bret, never say you have tangled with Naughty Lady Ness?” Edward expostulated, his pale blue eyes wide with astonishment.

Montlaine slapped his thigh. “Damn! So that is who she is. I have been racking my brain, trying to think why the name rang a bell. Well, well, she is true to her name. I heard any number of tales about the chit when I was in London last. She is forgiven all her escapades because of her family, and I am told the London hostesses hold her in great affection.”

“Indeed, I have heard the same. Apparently, she is a high flyer, a jester, and she takes to organized events like that cricket match where eleven ladies went against eleven men. And, Bret, the women won!”

“And what is the Naughty Lady doing here, in the wilds of Cornwall?” Bret mused out loud.

“I don’t know.” Edward shook his head. “No doubt took on one escapade too many and got sent down by her parents. From all I have heard, unconventional would be an understatement. Are you sure she can be trusted?”

The viscount shrugged. “She is a woman. Can any woman be trusted? However, my instinct told me yes, in this case. Besides, what choice did I have? I couldn’t very well hold her prisoner in my cave.”

“I have seen her, you know.” Edward smiled. “You are right, she is a beauty. I was present when some boor had the crudeness to take a stick to his old dog on a public street. Lady Vanessa was, it seems, passing by in her phaeton. A friend pointed her out to me just as she jumped down, put the reins in her tiger’s hands, called to a young man seated still to hurry along and join her,” he inclined his head, “I later discovered it was her brother. At any rate, she crossed the street and rounded on the man. She actually wrenched the stick out of his hands and swatted him with it on his shoulder!”

“Good God,” Montlaine said, but smiled at the picture this presented. “A veritable tigress, but I do applaud her.”

“The dog was naught but a mongrel, and a dirty one at that, but it didn’t stop her from bending down and picking the poor animal up, asking her brother to give the man a coin, and off she goes, mongrel cuddled in her arms.”

“Damn, but I have never heard the like. What happened next?” the viscount said softly.

“Her brother flips the man the coin, which lands at the man’s feet, and he starts off after his sister when the brute actually chased after and dared to take hold of Lady Vanessa’s arm.”

“Devil you say!” The viscount absurdly had a sudden need to find this man and put him in the ground.

“Precisely. It was then that I moved towards the scene to intervene if necessary. However, there was no need. Her brother brought up his fives and landed the chap a settler.” Edward smiled. “What a row they created, with people taking sides, though most seemed to be cheering Lady Ness and her brother on.”

“And the naughty lady?”

“She smiled at me for attempting to help, thanked her brother for knocking…in her words, the nasty man down, and off they went, leaving a rare set-to at their backs.”

Bret released a laugh.

Edward eyed him. “I see that, from this incident, you now believe for certain this lady is to be trusted?”

“I do,” the viscount said.

“Aye, as do I, strangely enough,” his friend agreed.

“The wonder is, I never ran into the vixen during my London days last year.”

“As to that, you were…er, floating in rather dubious circles, gaming in the worst of hells, and avoiding Almack’s at all costs.”

“Aye, so I did.” The viscount sighed.

The door opened and Matty appeared with a tray laden with food. The aroma made him rub his hands together and throw her a kiss as she set the tray on the small table at his knees.

He and his friend discussed a few ideas he had on how to put together evidence of his innocence while he wolfed down his food.

“Stay the night, Bret. Have a bath. I’ll help you draw one, and get a decent night’s sleep. Leave before daylight.”

This was too good to turn down, and with the Naughty Lady Ness holding his fate in her hands, he was as safe at Parks’ Place as he was at his cave.