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seen her worldlygrandmother take any of her conquests seriously.
    “Very well then, you loathe Lord Jasper.”
    “Now you’re being ridiculous, Marissa. I am going to lie down.”
    After Lady Bethany had gone Marissa knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going in search of Valentine and Jasper, and one way or another she was going to discover exactly what they were keeping from her.

Chapter 4
    T here are six names on the list,” Valentine said, holding the chewed and crumbling piece of parchment gingerly, as if he thought it might disintegrate at any moment.
    “The five companions who went to the Crusades with Richard de Fevre, as well as de Fevre himself,” Jasper added thoughtfully.
    “Exactly.” Valentine grimaced as a flake of parchment fluttered to the desk. “I think we should write them down, Jasper, before this thing turns to dust. There’s a pen and ink over there…that’s it.”
    “Number one?” Jasper asked, pen poised.
    “Sir Wilfred Montfitchet.”
    “And two?”
    “Henry Fortescue.”
    They went through the list, Jasper questioning the spelling and Valentine peering intently at the faded writing on the old document. He had no doubt this was what Von Hautt had been after when he called on Seth Bonnie and asked to see Valentine’s father’s papers. The first real clue in decades and Von Hautt had to find it first.
    The rose is mine! he wanted to shout. You have no right to it!
    But unfortunately, legally, that wasn’t so, although morally he was positive no one had more right to make such a claim.
    “So any one of these men could be the companion who saved de Fevre’s life? The one to whom he gave the second rose?”
    “It appears that way.
    “How on earth did your father get hold of this?”
    Valentine frowned in thought. “There are family papers. I’ve been through them myself, searching, but couldn’t find anything. I see now why. My father must have found the parchment and it was in his possession and then after his death, Bonnie held on to it.” He thought again. “He must have taken it with him for safekeeping.”
    “Good lord,” Jasper said drolly. “You call Waterloo safekeeping?”
    “You didn’t know my father,” Valentine replied, studying the new list Jasper had made. “Some of our family papers had already gone missing—sold off—and he didn’t trust anyone when it came to the Crusader’s Rose. My grandfather was none too fond of the whole matter, and as you know another of my ancestors destroyed the rose in the first place because there were too many strangers coming to the house, interrupting his peace and quiet. His vandalism and the rose’s loss to the world inspired my father to take up the quest.”
    “And now his son is following in his footsteps,” Jasper murmured. “He would be proud of you, I think.”
    Valentine remembered his father as a man in military uniform with a severe moustache, but he’d had a warm smile. His mother had died shortly after George’s birth, but she’d seemed to be always sickly, reclining on sofas and wincing when her young son came rushing into the room to tell her of his latest adventure. He remembered making her shriek once when he opened his cupped hands to show her a large and slightly battered insect he’d found in the garden.
    And later there was Valentine’s wife. He’d had high hopes for a happy marriage, he’d been deeply in love, but it was not to be. Their marriage was short and miserable, and not something he planned to repeat. All in all, he decided, he hadn’t had much luck. It was about time fate handed him a good card in the game of life.
    “I wish—” he began.
    There was a noise outside the room. Both men froze, listening. It had sounded very much like a sneeze.
    Was one of the servants eavesdropping? thought Valentine. What the devil did it mean?
    Rising from his chair and striding quickly across the room, he wrenched open the door.
    Marissa Rotherhild had turned to run, but it was