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had in common with that band of deputized outlaws was their name. They were a posse that provided protection—the lawful kind—to towns and individuals who couldn’t protect themselves. Nate had wanted to be one since he was ten years old.
    He’d been stupid. Jasper knew that now. He thought taking the device and hiding it would protect himself, Mei and his family. What he was just realizing was that he had crossed the wrong man. And now the people he cared about were the ones at risk. One telegram from Dalton, and Nate could get ambushed. Or his younger brother, Adam, could have an “accident.” God only knew what might happen to his older sister, Ellen.
    “You can stand down, Dalton,” he said quietly, reaching for his cup of coffee to wash down the biscuit stuck in his throat. “I hear you.”
    The other fellow smiled and gestured with his knife. “Try the maple syrup. It’s from Vermont.”
    This was quite possibly the most surreal experience Jasper had ever had—the threat of violence delivered in such a friendly manner. Still, he wasn’t lily-livered nor was he stupid, so he ate Dalton’s food and drank Dalton’s coffee and waited.
    Once Dalton had finished his own food, he set his silverware on the plate and leaned back in his chair, his fingers lazily curled around his cup of coffee.
    “My men found you at the Duke of Greythorne’s home.” Jasper shrugged. “So?”
    A sharp, dark brow arched. “Would you say you and he are … friends?”
    He forced a bark of disbelieving laughter from his throat. The last thing he wanted was to involve Griffin in this mess. “Me and a duke, all friendly-like? Those Limeys would lynch you for suggesting such a thing. Naw, I took care of a delicate situation for him, that’s all.”
    “So it’s just a coincidence that His Grace has come to town?”
    The bottom of Jasper’s stomach fell, but he kept his poker face—and his breakfast. “Reckon so. I can’t imagine that arrogant dandy coming all this way for a fellow he wouldn’t let enter his house through the front door.” That was a lie, of course, and he felt dirty saying it, even though it was to protect Griff.
    Dalton’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying to me, Jasper. The duke was at the Tombs earlier this morning.”
    Tarnation. He shrugged. “Could be he noticed a knickknack or two that might have been liberated from his household.”
    “Such as?”
    He seized the first things that came to mind. “Couple of silver candlesticks. A gold snuff box. I reckon it’s the ring he’s after, though. Coulda saved him the trouble of coming all this way. I pawned it in Whitechapel.”
    Dalton stared at him for a moment, his icy gaze searching Jasper’s face for any sign of a lie. But Jasper was a good liar when he needed to be—a trait he’d never been proud of until now. The other man laughed. “No wonder he’s here. I’d hunt you down myself.”
    Jasper’s smile was thin. “You already did.”
    More laughter. Then Dalton gazed at him with something that looked like respect. “It is good to have you back.”
    “Does that mean I get to come and go as I please?”
    “Why would you want to do that? When there’s no one in the city you’d call a friend?”
    And there it was. Dalton wasn’t calling him a prisoner, but they both knew there was no reason for him to wander about the city unless he planned to visit someone—such as the Duke of Greythorne. One wrong move on Jasper’s part and Mei would be dead faster than he could blink.
    Dalton continued, “You’ll collect my device today. Do this and perhaps I’ll liberate Miss Mei.”
    “It’s impossible to get it in one day,” Jasper informed him. “It’s not in just one spot.”
    Dalton scowled. “You took it apart?”
    “In case anyone found it—they wouldn’t know what it was.” Jasper didn’t even know what it was, but he knew it was dangerous, otherwise Dalton wouldn’t want it. He’d also known that breaking the thing down