After Sasha's stitches were removed by a much older and more courteous doctor, they allowed another fortnight to pass. Sasha had resumed most physical activities by then.

She could feel the tenderness at the area of her healing wound, but apart from that, Sasha felt entirely different as West pleasured her in bed and allowed her the liberty to participate. His lovemaking was gentle, his kisses tender. Every whisper in her ear gave her a sense of warmth.

Sasha trembled in his arms for the second time that night, his heat her blanket in the cold night air.

His mouth found hers for a lengthy kiss, their breathing dissolved as one. She whimpered against his mouth as his hips moved against her again, igniting another fire, his hunger insatiable, hers unending.

Sleek with sweat, their bodies resumed a dance that was always different but one they mastered every time. He growled against her neck, sucking her skin hard, then nibbling it gently, planting a soft kiss.

His mouth captured her cry of pleasure and they shuddered almost simultaneously. They lingered to savor the moment that was deprived of them—mainly by him—and just felt each other's heavy breathing and the soft slide of skin against skin.

He gently rolled off her and rose on his elbows to kiss her cheek. Panting, he grinned against her jaw. "St. Vincent is indeed a terrific doctor," he said, planting his palm over her wound. "Are you all right?"

"I am wonderful," she smiled, bending her head to kiss his shoulder. Her head fell back against the pillow. Sasha closed her eyes wearing a satisfied smile.

He trailed kisses at the side of her breast. "Would you like a bath?" he asked.

Sasha played with his hair. "Are you daft? At this time of night? Or is it morning?"

He returned to her mouth for a lingering kiss. "Says the woman who sews in the wee hours."

He sat up and pulled her up. She chuckled as she straddled his hips and loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. "This feels a little familiar," she said, sinking into his lap.

He groaned. "As you must feel, darling, I am not ready."

She clucked her tongue. "Men can be quite... slow, would you not agree?"

"I do not feel challenged at all, Sasha, so do not try."

She kissed his mouth. "I am not challenging you."

"This is not a game."

She sensed the serious timber in his voice. She did not respond and instead just kissed him.

When she pulled away, he asked, "What was in the satchel?"

She blinked. "What?"

"You said that when you woke up, you took your satchel and walked to Belcourt. What was in the satchel?"

She smiled. "Nothing. It contained nothing."

"Because you did not want to take anything that would remind you of that afternoon?"

She shook her head. "Because I had nothing to take."

She gave him another kiss and fell back into bed. "What is on your mind?" he asked, hovering above her. "Do not think I do not notice it. You are constantly thinking about something."

She hesitated, biting her lower lip. He kissed it away. "During my last visit to the Library, I found something that we can use to make Gabrielle talk."

He froze above her, then understanding dawned on his face. "You have been holding it back because it is morally wrong."

Her eyes searched his. "I would hate to use it on her."

He said nothing.

She sighed and closed her eyes. "But I must."

*****

The very next day, they arrived in Keene and went straight to Maycombe Hall.

Tanner and Rider were already waiting for them and Sasha immediately demanded to be escorted to Gabrielle.

As the earl guided them down the basement, Sasha asked, "Willoghby?"

No one answered. She looked at Rider walking beside her and over her shoulder at Tanner and West when the man did not reply.

"Are you not telling me because I might find your actions against the law and might report it?"

She looked at Rider. The man was tremendously impassive. West was just the same. Tanner, on the other hand, eagerly nodded, his brown eyes filled with eagerness to please her.

"He can rot in hell," she said, causing Rider to look over his shoulder at his friends who were looking as surprised as he was.

"And Gabrielle?" Sasha asked again.

Rider was intently looking down the corridor they were taking. "She is not talking," he finally said.

"It has been another fortnight—four weeks in total, gentlemen," Sasha said in disbelief. "You are telling me that she only talks whenever I am around? Is that it?"

"Or," Tanner hastily offered, squeezing between her and Rider, "she only talks every fortnight."

She shook her head. "You are not being harsh enough."

This time, the three men paused to blink at her. Without looking, Sasha continued to walk to the end of the corridor where a door stood. She waited for Rider, aware that West and Tanner were gawking at her.

She could not lose her composure today.

"Thank you," she said to Rider as the door swung open and before any of the men could enter, she pushed the door closed, saying, "Stay outside, please, gentlemen."

Sasha turned and found Gabrielle in the corner of the room. This time, the woman was in a rather nice condition. She looked—and smelled—like she had been allowed a bath. Her bed was larger than the one provided to her in Everleigh. And the room, although still free of windows, was rather clean.

And most of all, she was not bound.

"I will not waste time, Gabrielle," Sasha said, walking to the center of the room, aware that West and the others were outside should Gabrielle attempt anything. The woman simply stared at her, her expression, as Sasha had expected, was flat.

But this time, she broke her silence earlier than anticipated and said, "They have manipulated you greatly, Sasha. You do not know what you are doing."

"I may not, but I trust my judgment, Gabrielle. It is all that I have always had even before I came to Belcourt." She sighed. "West Blackwood is not looking for his sister to take her to Reginald. He has been tracking Reginald for quite some time, not in support for him but to know what the man is planning. His exchanges with Reginald was all because of that plan."

"Then he should have approached the—"

"The prince? The man you work for? What for, Gabrielle? So they can search for their sister together? So Prince Albert can get his hands on the very person who threatens the kingdom he is yet to inherit?"

Gabrielle's jaw tightened. "I am not working with the prince, Sasha."

"Then tell me, Gabrielle. I am certain you had enough time to think since we last talked."

"I work for one of the Maidens," Gabrielle gritted out, her green eyes blazing with anger. She was angry more at herself for speaking the words.

"Who amongst the Maidens?"

"I cannot tell you. And even if I do, it will not matter. You do not know them." Gabrielle's nostrils flared as her gaze held Sasha intensely. "I am not betraying Belcourt. I am saving it. Something bigger is afoot, Sasha. We have a common enemy and you are making things far more difficult by keeping me here."

Sasha blinked with feigned innocence. "Make me understand, Gabrielle. Tell me what is afoot."

Her red curly hair was untied, and it moved as Gabrielle shook her head. "I cannot. I do not have the liberty. I am but a servant to Belcourt."

"Then who can tell me? This Maiden?" she challenged.

Gabrielle did not answer. Her eyes flickered to the side and her expression was shutting down once again.

Sasha allowed the silence to linger for a moment, giving Gabrielle time to change her mind and herself to decide. When Gabrielle remained motionless, Sasha squared her shoulders and tersely said, "I know about your brother, Gabrielle."

She saw the sudden change in the woman, and it was as though she felt it too. Blood drained from her face and her eyes were stricken.

Without giving Gabrielle another chance, Sasha continued, "He is in Coulway for the season, is he not? Probably one of the reasons why you are frequently away from Belcourt?"

She saw Gabrielle shudder before she stiffly turned to Sasha, her eyes filled with so many emotions all at once. Betrayal, fear, pain, regret.

"Do not go there, Sasha. I swear to God if you lay a hand on him—"

"I will not," she interjected. "If you tell me the truth."

Gabrielle was breathing hard, her hands closed into fists.

For the first time, Sasha felt actual fear in front of Gabrielle. The look in her eyes spoke of unspeakable pain.

"I am waiting, Gabrielle. Do not think I am jesting. I may be heartless than you think."

Gabrielle smirked as if it was the only way she could hide the emerging panic within her. "You do not have it in you to cause him harm, Sasha. You have been manipulated and you must come to your senses."

"Do you know how I got into Belcourt, Gabrielle?" Sasha asked instead. "My father murdered my mother. I found him holding a pistol when I came home later that day. As there was only one bullet left, he made me choose between his life and mine." She stepped closer, holding Gabrielle's surprised gaze while hers remained unwavering. "You are looking straight at my choice." Stepping even closer, she added, "Now, do you want me to choose between you and your brother?" Her legs shaking, Sasha took a step back while maintaining the hard look on her face. "I will not wait for another fortnight for your decision, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle must have seen the truth in her words for she closed her eyes, a pained look on her face. "I cannot tell you. It is against the orders given me."

"Then what can you do?"

Her eyes remained closed as if it blinded her from the crime she was about to commit. Sasha waited as Gabrielle clearly struggled internally. She must be too tired. A month inside a room could render anyone insane. Finally, Gabrielle gritted out, "We have to go to the Palace."

"We can this very day."

"Alone," said Gabrielle, opening her eyes. Something was different in their depths—fury. Fury toward Sasha for forcing her into this, for giving her no choice. "That is the only option I can give you."

*****

"Well? Do you not think it is dangerous?" Sasha asked West.

He was frowning, his hands on his hips. Then he shook his head. "No, I believe it is a good plan." He looked at her and added, "I simply think you cannot go there alone with her—"

Sasha sighed. "I knew you would say that, but you should have seen her face when I told her about her brother. She was petrified, West. She will not do anything so long as she is aware that you and your friends are with her brother."

"Then we can force the truth out of her now—here."

"Do you not want to know who this Maiden is? What her plans are?"

Rider turned to West. "I believe Sasha is correct. We shall have men nearby Belcourt while we return to Coulway on horseback." He turned to Sasha. "If you do not come out in an hour, they will try to take matters into their own hands."

"They will never survive Belcourt."

"No," said Rider, shaking his head. "It would be too late for us to save you then. If you do not come out in an hour, they will go and alert us. And we kill the brother."

Sasha blinked. "You will what?"

Tanner shrugged. "You heard him, Sasha. We kill him."

Rider's light brown eyes gauged Sasha. "This was your plan. You make certain it works and you make certain that Gabrielle is aware of what we are going to do to her brother if she does not deliver you outside Belcourt in an hour."

Sasha turned to West. "West?"

His eyes were cold when he looked at her. "If you truly wish to pursue this plan, Sasha, and if you fail to get out of Belcourt in time, I will be the one to slash the man's neck. So if you want him alive, you have to come out alive."

She placed her hand on her temple and closed her eyes. "Why do I feel as though the three of you have trapped me?"

"This was your plan," Tanner repeated. "Quite a brilliant one. But it has its flaws. As we have mentioned earlier, she may be using this as a way for her to get back into Belcourt where she shall be safe with very little care for her brother's life."

"I knew what I saw when she realized we uncovered her brother's identity."

"Which is why you have to choose, Sasha," West said. "I will no longer try to stop you for I know it shall reap me no rewards."

Sasha grabbed her red cloak and walked toward West. In front of his friends, she kissed his lips. "I am going." She turned to Rider. "Please, take Gabrielle to the carriage. We have quite a long journey ahead of us."

*****

Sasha did not attempt to open a conversation with Gabrielle as they rode to Belcourt in one of Rider's carriages.

The woman was sitting stiffly at her side of the carriage, looking straight at Sasha, her green globes filled with anger and disbelief, her lips in a tight thin line.

The journey took six hours without rest and by the time they came near Belcourt, night had already fallen. Just as Gabrielle wanted it.

"Stop," Gabrielle ordered. Sasha knocked on the ceiling of the carriage.

"Through the forest?" she asked, not entirely surprised.

"We cannot enter through the gates," Gabrielle said. "I have been gone too long. By now, Belcourt may be searching for me."

It only occurred to Sasha that Gabrielle may be facing harsh penalties. A Soldier could not stay away from Belcourt for too long.

She mentally shook her head. This was the only way she could find out what Gabrielle was hiding. But what if Gabrielle was telling the truth? What if she could prove to Sasha that West was indeed guilty? But if he was, why would she let him go alone?

This could be a big misunderstanding, she thought—as well as hoped.

Gabrielle climbed out of the carriage and waited for her outside. Turning to the driver and the three men that had been following them behind on horseback, Gabrielle said, "Guards are watching over Belcourt at all angles. You cannot go further. You wait for Sasha to come out within an hour."

Sasha looked at the edge of the forest, no longer listening. They had already discussed their plan.

Gabrielle lifted the hood of her cloak over her head and turned to Sasha. "I am doing my part of the bargain. I hope you can honor yours."

Sasha nodded.

The two of them left the carriage and the men and crossed the road to enter the forest.

Gabrielle started running and Sasha followed.

They did not have a lot of time and the forest surrounding Belcourt was not an easy path either.

But it seemed Gabrielle had been doing this for a long time. She knew the right turns to evade the watchtowers scattered around the forest.

How long had she been using this path?

After a while, Gabrielle stopped and placed her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Sasha slowed down as her wound was also giving her a hard time. And just as she reached Gabrielle, the woman straightened, turned to her, and knocked her out cold.

*****

West, Tanner, and Rider found their target in one of the drawing rooms of the Royal Theater.

The red-headed man was in a deep conversation with another gentleman when the three of them approached him.

He looked surprised when he recognized the three men standing before him.

"My lords!" he greeted, standing to his feet. "I do not expect to see you here tonight—"

Tanner sighed, stopping the man's words with a lift of his hand. "They do look alike, do they not?" he asked Rider who ignored him, looking intently at the man.

The man blinked his green eyes in confusion. "I do not understand—"

"Please, if you would follow me, Ross," West said, turning toward a body-length mirror at the corner of the room, right beside a potted plant.

Another act was starting below them. The applause was muffled by the thick walls that separated them from the other guests and the boxes. A few of the gentlemen they passed by started to stand to return to their boxes.

West reached for the edge of the mirror and pulled it open, revealing another door. Tanner and Rider were right behind him with the reluctant Ross standing idly by.

The man followed them inside the room. They refused the drinks offered by the server who dutifully closed the mirrored door to provide them their privacy. Rider did not go further into the room and satisfied himself by leaning against the door, his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers.

"Sit down," West ordered and Shaw slowly obliged, looking at the three men with bewilderment.

"What is the matter?" Ross asked.

West took the winged chair behind an old desk and folded his hands under his chin. "You bloody bastard," he murmured, eliciting a look of panic in Ross's green eyes. "You have a sister."

"A twin," added Rider from where he stood, face unreadable, voice cold.

Ross shifted in his seat in great discomfort. His face had gone ashen. He loosened his cravat with shaking hands.

West leaned against the chair and crossed one leg over the other. His finger interlaced before him, he coldly asked, "Now, tell us why the twin sister of the Earl of Ross is in Belcourt, August."

Ross's jaw tightened.

Tanner took the seat beside Ross and sighed. "This shall be a very long night, Ross."

The man's shoulders dropped, and he looked at Tanner, then Rider, and finally at West. "I might as well explain."

*****

Sasha felt the pain in her head as she came awake.

She could sense someone calling her name.

And the very moment she remembered what happened, her eyes flung open and she was suddenly attacked by the brightness of the room. She rose from where she was lying—a red settee.

Holding her breath, she looked around, her heart pounding.

Why did she feel like another fainting spell was coming?

She closed her eyes and cleared her throat.

"You are in the Palace," said Gabrielle's voice. "Please, forgive me, Sasha. I cannot allow you to know the path to this place."

Sasha's jaw tightened. She tried to move, but the slight pain from her midriff stopped her. She had strained herself by running into the forest. Her hand placed pressure on the wound. She swallowed and looked around.

"Where in the Palace am I?" she asked.

"In one of the quarters for the Maidens," replied Gabrielle, walking toward a door. "We do not have much time. Your friends may decide to kill my brother at any given moment."

Without another word, Gabrielle pulled the door open and left the room.

Sasha straightened and stood to her feet. She wobbled, the room spinning slowly around her. Closing her eyes, she waited for the sensation to subside.

The sound of a door opening came just as her eyelids fluttered open and a figure of a woman walked inside.

She was draped in a purple cloak, the hood down.

Her brown hair was swept to the left, its waves cascading down to her waist. Her lips hinted a smile as her light blue eyes regarded Sasha with curiosity and gentleness.

"Good evening, Sasha," the woman greeted, voice smooth and perfectly modulated. "Gabrielle told me a rather fascinating story of her little adventure."

Sasha swallowed, daring not to move. She felt a shiver run up her spine the more she looked at the woman. "She must have also told you that we do not have much time."

The woman nodded. "But first, introductions are in order." She woman, as though an apparition, glided closer toward her. "My name is Arielle." Her light blue eyes held so many things—hilarity, secrets, and mystery. And they were even laced in her voice as she added, "I am Elizabeth Blackwood's daughter."