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burning in his soul. “I would never do this! She is like a sister to me,” he repeated. Portia might be wild and unconventional, but she did not deserve to have her liberty taken from her. A woman like her thrived on freedom; she would wither and die in captivity. Portia was not someone to bend to another’s will either, and her survival in a harem would likely be short.
    “I’ll kill the men who have done this. Who? Who has her?” Grayson would not renege on his promise to Robert. He would save her, no matter how long it took.
    Philip’s voice choked with emotion. “The Home Office told Maxwell it’s most likely that Sultan Hassid, ruler in Alexandria, has bought her. Since the French Revolution, he’s hated all infidels. He’s the only sultan currently flaunting the white slave trade in our faces. He’s the only one defiant and arrogant enough to be party to the kidnapping of the sister of a decorated war hero and earl.”
    Grayson strode over to the door and opened it, calling for Timmins. “Pack my bags, I’m leaving for Alexandria.” Seeing Timmins’s openmouthed surprise, he yelled, “Now!”
    He turned back to face Philip. “Why use me? Why my name? You know it’s untrue. I would never—”
    “Of course it’s untrue. What I cannot comprehend is why her abductors would go to such elaborate lengths. Why not simply just kidnap her? This is an elaborate plan, and it seems as if they want society to blame you.”
    Grayson’s head was a riot of thoughts. He turned to Philip. “We leave tonight. They already have one day’s head start.”
    “Thank you.”
    The two men stood looking at each other, Philip’s eyes swimming in tears. “She’s ruined, isn’t she?” he whispered.
    Grayson swallowed and stilled his building anger. He needed to think. “I doubt we will be able to keep her disappearance a secret, unless …”
    He began to pace again his mind whirling. “We could say she has caught another lung fever. Society will remember her last bout.”
    Philip nodded. “We have to try. I shall alert Mama.”
    Grayson swung around. “Who else knows she’s been taken?”
    “Just one or two at the Home Office, as far as I know.”
    Grayson frowned. “If she was taken from the gardens, which port would they head to?”
    “I have no idea. They would want to get off English soil as soon as possible.”
    “Then I suggest Great Yarmouth. Meet me here in one hour. That should give me time to pen some notes to the coaching inns along our route to have fresh horses ready. We head to Norfolk. We’ll take one of Lord Coldhurst’s ships. I happen to know one has just arrived back from the Americas.”
    The two men galloped through the night, thankful that snow was not falling, but it was still cold enough to require scarves to cover their faces.
    The ride also gave Grayson time to think. He was surprised at how Portia’s plight hurt. He was angry at her, but more because he realized he didn’t wish to lose her from his life. It was a sobering moment of self-honesty.
    He remembered Robert’s last words as he lay dying in Grayson’s arms on the battlefield. Robert’s last thoughts were of those he loved:
I hope you will steer Philip and aid him in taking over as earl. If you are as loyal to him as you were me, he’ll shoulder his new responsibilities well. As for Portia, promise me you’ll look after her. My brothers indulge her too much. I know she’s getting more unconventional. I can’t see you as husband material for Portia, but you’ll know how to handle her, direct her, and guide her.
    The problem was, he didn’t know how to handle her. Portia both confused and dismayed him. Intelligent and witty, she didn’t give a fig for convention and took too many risks with society’s rules.
    It stung that Robert hadn’t thought he was good enough for Portia. Before the war Robert probably would have been right, but now Grayson wanted a wife, a family, a woman who was a credit to his