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shadow flicker across her face.
    “We’re hosting that party you and I discussed,” Breanna informed her brightly. “Right here. The week after Christmas. Wells, Mrs. Charles, and Mrs. Rhodes planned the whole thing. It will be a holiday party, birthday celebration, and welcome home gathering all in one. I’m sure it will be the talk of theton.In  addition,we’ve also been invited to a dozen holiday parties elsewhere. Of course, you’ll have to tell me which invitations you want to accept and which you don’t—”
    “Breanna.” Stacie had had enough. This sort of aimless babbling was as unusual for Breanna as crying was for her. It was time to get to the bottom of this.
    Silencing her cousin’s chatter, Stacie lifted Breanna’s chin and studied her—closely—for the first time. No, she hadn’t imagined the dark shadows beneath Breanna’s eyes, nor the strain tightening her face. And her cheeks, when she wasn’t smiling, were pale.
    “What’s wrong?” Stacie demanded. “And don’t tell me nothing. I won’t believe you. I’ve had the oddest feeling for over a week now—like something ominous was going on here. Tell me what’s happened.”
    Shoulders sagging, Breanna gave up the pretense.
    “I prayed I wouldn’t have to tell you,” she said, lacing her fingers tightly together. “I prayed it would all be resolved by the time you got home. But it isn’t. And now, there’s a babe to consider … so you have to know.”
    “Know what?”
    “A little over a week ago I received a package—a package and a note.” A weighted pause. “They were a warning.”
    “A warning?” Stacie echoed. “From whom?”
    “From the man Father paid to kill you.““What?”Stacie blanched. “From that assassin who tried—?”
    “Yes.”
    “How can you be so certain?” A muscle flexed in Damen’s jaw. “What was in the package? What did the note say? What land of warning?” Damen’s questions sliced the air like a knife, and he slid a protective arm about his wife. “Breanna, I think you’d better tell us everything.”
    With a weary nod, Breanna did, eliminating none of the details, including the trip she’d made to Bow Street and the lack of information they’d turned up. “But I know in my gut it washewho sent them. I think Bow Street agrees, even if they’ve washed their hands of the matter.”
    “That explains the extra security,” Anastasia concluded aloud. ” And my uneasy feeling.”
    “Yes. Wells arranged for guards.”
    “How can Bow Street just dismiss such blatant evidence?” Anastasia asked, twisting around to gaze up at her husband.
    “No crime has been committed,’ Damen returned quietly, his forehead creased in thought. “Did they talk to the messenger who delivered the package?”
    “Yes.” Breanna nodded. “He had no contact with whoever sent it. The lad was given the box by his supervisor when he reported for work. And, according to the supervisor, the package was left, along with an envelope containing delivery instructions and a ten pound note, on his doorstep.”
    “Then Bow Street’s exhausted their clues. Also, judging from the headlines of the newspaper we bought in London, they’re consumed with this murder investigation.” Damen pursed his lips. “There’s got to be something we can do. And there is always the chance Marks is right—that this madman will stop his threats as quickly as he started them,”
    “You don’t believe that,” Stacie said quietly.
    Soberly, Damen met her gaze, deliberately masking the full extent of his worry, yet unable to demean what they had together by offering her a barefaced lie. “No. I don’t.”
    A heartbeat of silence.
    Breanna drew herself up—a gesture that proclaimed she was battling her own fears, and determined to master them. “This is the first day I’ve ventured out since Mr. Marks delivered his report,” she admitted “I’ve been too alarmed and too preoccupied to go about my business. But when I