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property. No fit place to live anymore."
    How easy, indeed, Sabrina had speculated, to act the highwayman.
    The first attempt had been a terrifying failure, nearly costing her her life and limbs when the coach she'd tried to waylay had not stopped and had nearly run her down.
    Her second attempt had been more successful and netted her a ruby brooch and a gold watch, relieved from her first victims, Lord and Lady Malton. She had sold the jewelry, then traded in the old mare for a speedier mount and with what was left, a cow for the barn.
    Fortunately, misfortune had turned into good fortune when she'd inadvertently stumbled across the path of Will and John Taylor. Rabbits poached from forbidden land were slung across their shoulders when she interrupted them, a company of dragoons on her heels at the time, and time being of the essence, they had saved introductions until later.
    Sheltering under the trees, they had watched the soldiers thundering by, turning to inspect each other suspiciously when the immediate danger had passed.
    She remembered now with amusement how the two big men had towered over her as she'd stood bravely before them in her jackboots, her paling face hidden by her mask.
    John had looked down at her from his great height, his thatch of straw-colored hair gleaming like silver under the bright moonlight.
    "Well, what have we here?" he'd asked with interest.
    "Looks like a little Scots gentleman to me, John," Will laughed deeply.
    "Aye, tha' I be, lads," she had answered huskily, her hands placed arrogantly on her hips.
    "Well, little man, you're a bit south of the mark, then. Don't you think you oughta head north a bit? Wouldn't want you stumbling into us again," John had threatened.
    "Yeah, looks as though you'd been busy, too, little Scot What'd you get for yourself? Maybe you oughta share it with us for our trouble," Will had suggested with a smile splitting wide his mouth.
    Sabrina remembered reaching for her pistol, unwilling to share her first profits with those two country bumpkins, but before she could find it she'd found herself wrapped in a fierce bear hug. Her little bag of loot was searched to their disappointment and then her mask had been tugged loose. Their surprise had been very satisfying to her ruffled feelings.
    "Lord, but it's little Lady Sabrina Verrick," John had said, shaken.
    Sabrina had enjoyed their discomfiture for a few brief moments, then had made them her startling proposal, having been suitably impressed by their strength and also preferring to have them a part of her secret rather than just knowing about it.
    Never once had she regretted her decision, as Will and John made themselves indispensable to her and her family, finding servants and gardeners from the village to work at Verrick House and somehow managing to get them credit with all the local shopkeepers until they had built up their income enough to pay.
    It had worked out beautifully, almost too well, she sometimes worried.
    "Are you going to soak until dawn?" Mary demanded sleepily. "You're going to be as wrinkled as a prune."
    Sabrina climbed from the tub, wrapping her slender body in a warm towel as she dried herself before the fire and then slipped into her nightgown, smoothing the soft material over her hips.
    Mary gave her a hug and disappeared into her own room. Sabrina walked over to the chest, opening the lid and looking down at her sword and pistol lying on top.
    She glanced at the claw-handled pistol and then dug down deeper, coming up with her grandfather's knife, the haft richly wrought with silver. She cradled it to her breast for comfort, trying to visualize her grandfather's face, the glint in her violet eyes and the half-smile on her lips very reminiscent of the old man's, had she but known it.
    "I promised I'd take care of Richard, didn't I? But I don't think you'd planned it quite this way, did you, Grandfather?"
    She replaced the knife in the chest and climbed into bed, her eyes closing with sleep