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the correct amount of crowns and shillings and handed the coins to Christian.
    “My thanks,” Christian said. “I appreciate your efforts in making this purchase possible.”
    Godfrey beamed and proceeded to wrap the teapot in a piece of red silk before brown-papering it. “Thank you for the opportunity to serve you.” He handed the parcel to him.
    Christian smiled at the man and left. Once outside on Sackville Street, he crossed over to the Rose and Thorn Tavern. He’d think on the significance of this exchange over a brew before he returned to his town house. Elizabeth Corry was involved in some way with Roderick Godfrey and whatever it was, his hunch was it would lead him to his brother. Redheads. It always meant trouble. True, Elizabeth’s hair wasn’t a fiery color like some, but definitely a shade of red.
    * * * *
    “Where were we?” Roderick said, returning from selling her teapot. He seated himself at his worktable across from where she sat. “Ah, let’s see. You made it clear that you don’t wish to draw the pattern for me. Let me make it clear. You’ll do it, or your father will suffer.”
    “My father? You mean, you’ve seen him?” Elizabeth jumped to her feet, relieved to hear he was indeed alive.
    “Aye, but that’s all I’ll tell you.” He grinned at her. “I hope the gentleman who invaded your home at dawn didn’t frighten you too much.”
    “You mean, you ...”
    “That’s right. The man needed the funds to pay off some gambling debts, so I hired him to bring me back the teapot I gave you in error. Gentry or nay, the man was an idiot. First, he asked you straight out for the dies, and next, he failed to even search the dining room—the most logical place for a teapot.”
    Roderick stood and walked over to a windowed wall with shutters that separated his own work area from his help. He waved at the men on the other side who returned the gesture and continued their engraving.
    “Don’t look so sad. I didn’t pay the gent,” he said, obviously intentionally misinterpreting her silence. “Your discovering the coins and dies saved me the trouble of coming for them myself. But now that you know what we’re about, you’ve no choice except to become one of us. Not only will you draw the pattern for me, but you’ll pass the counterfeit coins as well.”
    One of them. Forgers. God in heaven. The penalty if caught was death. She didn’t know whether to cry with happiness that her father was alive or to sob in horror over what Roderick proposed she do.
    Her continued silence apparently moved Roderick to add, “Need I tell you the alternative, Elizabeth?”
    Finally, she said, “ ‘Tis bad enough I have to do the drawing, but please don’t ask me to pass the spurious coins. I wouldn’t be good at it, and what if I got caught?”
    “Don’t get caught,” Roderick answered in a matter-of-fact manner and walked back to the worktable where she still stood. “But if you do, we’d find a way to get to you first.”
    “That’s a relief,” she half-heartedly said and sat back down.
    “Not really. You see, we’d have to kill you, Elizabeth.”
    God in heaven. She shuddered and tried to control the nausea that threatened to overcome her. Was this really the same Roderick who was the brother of her best friend, Charlotte? Elizabeth had had no idea he was involved in counterfeiting and doubted Charlotte did either.
    “You have what seems to be a profitable business here. Why are you doing this? Where have you taken my father and why?” she asked. Her frayed nerves prompted her to fidget with one of the many small silversmith hammers on the table top.
    Roderick instantly noticed this action and carefully removed the hammer from her grasp and set it aside with the others.
    “You know better, Elizabeth. The slightest flaw on the surface of a hammer would be transferred to the metal with each hammer blow and cause damage.”
    “Why are you doing this, Roderick?” she asked, ignoring