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Mac stood on the threshold He came inside, and Curry quickly closed the door behind him

"Fellows looks like a drowned rat Don’t worry, Ian I took care"

"It is kind of you to co not to sound impatient "How is Isabella?"

Mac looked blank "How the devil should I know?"

"You saw her hoht"

Mac turned a wooden chair around and straddled it back to front "I got her into her carriage and paid her coachain" Beth frowned at hi of hi you did of her"

"Did she? That trifle?" Mac spoke casually, but he tensed "Not a trifle It’s beautiful She travels with it--obviously, or she could not have shown it toto find the perfect spot to throw it into the sea"

"Of course not"

Mac clenched the chair so rightly Beth feared he’d splinter the wood "May we not speak of it?"

"As you wish" Beth frowned, but she dropped the subject By the tiot Ian fully dressed and Beth had drunk a cup of tea, someone else knocked on the door

Mac hastened to open it, but he slipped out into the hall without letting Beth see who it was She heard a rapid exchange of French, and then Mac cailist valet, Bella black-buttoned cassock and rosary

"Good heavens," Beth bit out "Are we having a fancydress party? So many more people to slip out the back" Ian turned around "We are leaving by the front door Be daht you said he was ready to arrest us" "Why should he?" Ian’s voice hardened, and he glanced at her with a look she didn’t understand "He has no reason to arrest a ht in a pension with his wife"

Beth stopped "But I’m not your"

She took in the priest, Mac’s expression, Curry’s innocently blank face

"Oh, no," she said, her heart sinking "Oh, Ian, no"

Chapter Thirteen

They all stared at her, Curry with amusement, the priest with a worried frown, Bellamy nonplussed, Mac in impatience Only Ian re for sos for breakfast

"Why the hell not?" Mac asked "Ian likes you, you get on, and he needs a wife"