The sound of the door slamming reverberated throughout Seaforth House and Duncan stood in the drawing room with a look of total bewilderment on his face. Marguerite stomped up the stairs, imagining a certain freckled face underneath her slippers as she went. 'No', she thought, halfway up, 'I would rather trample that painted, bosom-enhanced strumpet, Cecily Tilbury, although Duncan deserves to be crushed too - that stupid lout!'

She reached the hallway and stood, undecided for a moment as to her next move. Finally, she turned and went to the sick room, drawn by the sound of voices. She tapped on the door and entered to see the Major, Flora, and James with quills, ink and paper. A veritable snowstorm of paper! The carpet around the beds and Flora's chair was awash in crumpled wads of paper, flung by impatient hands. James had a frown on his face and Jacob's was adorned with an ink smear below his rapidly healing eye, just adding to the rainbow of colors already there.

"Whatever are you doing?" Marguerite demanded, still a bit put out at the obtuseness of men and one man in particular.

"Well, since we can't go with Theo or Gordon to Oxford or to the jeweller's shop with Roly and August, we though we'd work on the coded notebook ourselves," Flora replied, blushing as Jacob touched her hand while reaching for more paper.

"Then Dunc... Mr. Tealeaf was not telling me a Banbury tale when he mentioned the mysterious notebook. He mentioned a key and the Duke of Marbury's tiara," Margo said in a surprised voice. "I thought he was making a May game of me. I thought he was warning me of non-existent dangers to keep us ladies from interfering with all those so-called gentlemanly pursuits."

A voice from behind her said, "Not to keep you from 'interfering' in this dangerous endeavor, but to keep you safe, Miss Templeby."

Margo whirled and saw Duncan standing in the doorway, a soft look in his eyes, as he continued, "We know what the Guardians are capable of doing. You only have to think of Miss Primat down the hall and what she is suffering. I, er, we don't want anything like that happening to you... or to Miss Flora," he added belatedly.

The two of them stared at one another for a long wordless moment, fraught with emotion, until Flora broke the spell saying, "Get some chairs and help us try to solve this code."

Duncan pulled a couple of chairs close to Flora's and they sat down. Flora handed them copies of a few pages of the notebook. "Jac... um... Major... dash it all, I don't wish to be so formal - Jacob has explained a little about codes."

James looked at his niece and opened his mouth as if to reprimand her, and then thought better of it. He was rather bemused as he came to the realization of what had happened right under his nose. His niece and his friend were in love. He would have to discuss this new event with Anne later but he approved. Jacob would dampen some of Flora's wilder starts and she would bring joy and laughter to a rather harsh military existence. Yes, it would do. He smiled as he bent his head over the paper in his lap, listening to Flora's voice uttering such learned phrases as "winding stick and picket fence codes." She went on about "every second, third, or fourth letter intervals." James watched the looks between the two, and then he looked at the other pair in the room and saw the same looks flashing between them. He wondered if he looked that besotted when he looked at Anne. Never, he decided. He was not a such a fool!

Marguerite studied the papers in front of her. The letters and numbers seemed to be a meaningless jumble. She looked at the bottom of the page and saw:

She didn't know exactly what she was supposed to do and said fretfully, "It's such a jumble! Forwards, backwards, it is still a mess. How are we ever going to figure this out?"

Duncan looked at the page for a long moment and then cried, "Miss Marguerite, I think you may have done it!"

The others stared at him with varying looks of disbelief as he peered at the sheet in his hand and began at the bottom, muttering to himself, "Not every second, nor third, but... P... L... Y... M!" He went on and cried, triumphantly, "The last line says Plymouth and then Morton. I think the numbers are used to separate words. Margo, Miss Templeby, you've really done it! Now, if only you could make some sense out of the key and the Marbury tiara. Think!"

Margo sat up a bit straighter in the chair, trying to look as though she had known all along what she had meant when she had uttered the magic word "backwards."

"You said something about taking the ruby?" she asked Duncan, feeling very proud of herself.

"Well, we aren't really sure just what part the ruby plays or the key, either, for that matter. We hope we have put paid to whatever scheme the Guardians had in mind when Marbury presented Queen Caroline with it, but it is still a mystery. There had to be something linking Marbury and his family to treason if the Guardians are to succeed with the plot."

Marguerite settled back more comfortably in the chair and became deeply engrossed in thought. James and Jacob were busily counting under their breaths and listing names when she suddenly turned to Flora and asked, "Flora, wouldn't you say that at least half the ladies of the court would be able to spot a paste gem at twenty paces?"

"At least!" was the enthusiastic reply. "Most of them can tell you to within a shilling your modiste bill for your latest ensemble."

"Then the ruby has not been taken."

The men looked at Marguerite with respectful attention as she continued, "So the key must be the important piece of the puzzle." She stopped and then suddenly cried out, "Of course. The case! There must be something hidden in the lining of the case. Lots of people hide things in the linings of cases, portmanteaux, trunks, and even cloaks. It would be the perfect place. Everyone would be busy checking the ruby and no one would think to check the case until a whisper or an unsigned letter drew attention to it."

Duncan reached over and took Marguerite's hand, bringing it to his lips in homage to her clear thinking as Flora, delighted that her friend has been instrumental in solving the mysteries ahead of the men, winked at her in womanly camaraderie. One upmanship was so much fun!

James groaned, "And how do we get the case out of our avaricious queen's chubby hands long enough to search the lining?"

As the carriage stopped, August and Roly stepped down and went to the door, opening it and peering around. An old man, bent and shriveled, with a jeweler's loupe shoved up on his forehead looked at them and asked in a cracked voice, "May I help you, gentlemen?"

August walked closer and said, "We were told you had cleaned some jewelry for the Duke of Marbury. He was particularly pleased with the work you did on the tiara and recommended that we bring you our family pieces for cleaning."

The old man looked at August, bewilderment etched on every line of his face. "The Duke of Marbury? Here?" He scratched at his bald pate and went on, "You are surely mistaken. I have never had such an exalted customer. As you can see, my shop is mainly for the middle class people, not the aristocrats like yourselves."

Roly leaned over the counter and said, "But this is the address that the Duke, my grandfather, gave us. He was here three weeks ago and you cleaned the Marbury tiara for him."

The old man looked even more befuddled. "I couldn't have done, sir. My wife and I went to Truro over a month ago for the birth and the christening of our first great-grandchild. We only returned last Friday. We would not have been able to go if it hadn't been for the kindness of Mr. Warburton who arranged a carriage and the accommodations for the trip. We traveled in very nice style, believe me."

"Did you close the shop then?" August asked.

"Oh yes, sirs. I have no apprentice now. In fact, we left the key with Mr. Warburton who thought he might know of a buyer for it since we are ready to retire to Cornwall to live close to our family there."

Roly and August nodded, both convinced of the old man's honesty. Roly looked around and spotted a pair of earrings in the case. He purchased them and slipped the package in his pocket as the old man bowed them out of his shop. He certainly had something to tell his wife at their frugal dinner - how two swells came and purchased earrings from his shop. She would be amazed.

August smiled faintly at Roly as they got back into the carriage and said, "For a villain and a rogue, you are remarkably kind-hearted."

Roly ignored the statement, and after a few minutes spent staring sightlessly out the carriage window, remarked, "Now what? I just can't let them destroy my grandfather."

The sickroom was crowded when Gordon and Theo were ushered in. Gordon turned to Theo and said, "I never realized how important we were. Did you, Haversham?"

Flora jumped up from her chair, situated very closely to Jacob's bed and cried out, "We have solved the code!"

Theo looked at his sibling and muttered, "Oh damme! Our don friend was away climbing some mountain and we had that trip for nothing. You solved it... now that's monstrously unfair," and he glared at the assembled people.

Duncan chimed in, "Miss Marguerite solved it, not us!" He wanted to make sure his lady got all the credit due her, while Marguerite sat quietly, glowing at his words of praise. For the moment, her pique over Cecily Tilbury and Duncan's plan to revisit her den of iniquity was relegated to the back of her mind.

The list of names was passed around amid many exclamations at Marguerite's cleverness and finally Roly, who had gone through all the names spoke up, "The name or word 'box' appears very frequently. Whatever do you suppose that means?"

Suddenly a name was spoken into the silence, "Dunnett" and then "Box." August, as ever, refreshing himself with a little iced cake, gave a low whistle and said, "Is that our Scots friend? The one who disappeared so conveniently and mysteriously before Alistair could ask him some very pointed questions?"

Miranda Dickens, wrapped warmly in her best cloak and carrying a napkin-covered basket, was just reaching for the latch of the kitchen door when a big tanned hand moved in front of hers and Tummet said, "Let me help ye, Miss Dickens."

He opened the door and followed her to the stable yard where one of her brothers was waiting. "Thank you for your escort, Mr. Tummet," she chirped gaily at him. "As you can see, my brother is here to take me home."

Tummet stood open-mouthed for a second (he was finding that courting a female was much harder work than he had expected) and then he said, "Well, two of us is better'n one and I can escort ye back so he won't have to make 'nother trip."

Miranda smiled and offered her arm and they went out to the hired hackney waiting for them. As they rode along, she asked her brother, "How is our wounded gentleman doing?"

Johnny replied, "He's still witless - but he do be 'ealing right well."

Miranda turned to Tummet and told him of the gentleman she had found down on the docks, badly beaten and naked. She mentioned the words he had muttered in his delirium and Tummet immediately perked up. "May I see yon gent?"

"Of course," she replied and he settled back, hoping that he was right and that he had found another missing piece to the puzzle. If this was indeed Kenneth Dunnett, more light could be shed on the Guardians' plans and tricks. Tummet was a happy man, sitting next to his chosen female (although she was not yet aware that he had chosen her), and on his way to solving another part of the puzzle that was treason.

Marguerite, resisting the almost irresistible impulse to hold her recently kissed hand to her cheek (or lips...no, that was really too improper to even think about), turned to Duncan Tiele and inquired, "Who is this Dunnett? An enemy or an ally?"

Duncan could only give her a mystified shake of his head. They turned their attention to the others. Flora explained, "He attacked Mr. Alistair Erskyn for reasons that were really never fully explained."

"I'll wager I could offer an explanation both true and condemning," Theo huffed.

"We have no proof of anything other than his attack," Seaforth said firmly. "Regardless of his name's presence in the notebook, he might only be a pawn in the Guardians' game."

"Must you always defend the indefensible?" Falcon demanded. "It is as plain as the nose on your face that Dunnett must have been the one to put the treasonous whatever-it-may-be into the box. Which is to say, it is too large a fact to overlook."

Seaforth flushed, started to say something hot, looked confused, and subsided, then burst out with, "Must you always..."

"Be that as it may," Mathieson broke in, "The problem of discovering the treasonous object remains. Who among us has access to court?"

"Uncle James does, as a Marquis," Flora offered.

"I avoid it whenever possible," Seaforth denied hastily.

"Surely you do, Falcon," Tiele said.

Falcon raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Oh, certainement, the Mandarin of Mayfair has free access to the King's court. And the queen is actually by way of being a cousin of mine. Through the Chinese line."

Eyes rolled heavenward. Before anyone could respond to his sarcasm, the butler came running into the sickroom at an unaccustomed speed. Jerking an awkward bow and straightening to push his wig from his eyes, the discomfited servant gasped out, "I beg... to present... His Grace, the Duke of Marbury!"

All present snapped to attention, Holt as much as was possible while being held to bed by Flora's insistent hand even as she hopped to her feet. Marguerite had never met the duke and so watched intently for the famed gentleman's entrance.

Whatever she had expected, it was not the head that came sniffing round the doorframe. A fabulously ugly head, furry and possessed of two small dark eyes that scanned the room suspiciously. The eyes spotted Mathieson, who had begun to back surreptitiously behind the others. With a joyous howl, the monstrous dog hurled itself, regardless of what lay between it and its well-loved goal, towards the cowardly Roland. He barely had time to cry, "Beast... Mais non! Bad dog. Umph!" before the wind was knocked from his lungs by an enthusiastic pair of paws. Stumbling backward, he sprawled on Holt's lap. Jacob, turning beet red, tried to push both intruders from his bed. Marguerite and Flora gave up on trying to stifle their giggles and surrendered to whoops of laughter. Tiele, gazing at Miss Templeby's descent into mirth, noted that her chuckles flushed her cheeks a most becoming pink, and her eyes sparkled in a lovely fashion. He had never wanted to kiss her more.

A mild voice said from the open door, "I have missed the joke, I think?"

Instantly sobered, everyone directed their attention to the duke. Marguerite was surprised to note that he stood not above average height. Somehow she had garnered the impression that Marbury loomed as tall as his one-eyed grandson. He was dressed in palest pink small clothes over which was a richly embroidered coat in a darker shade of the same color. High-heeled shoes with diamond buckles covered stockings with an ivy lattice on the sides. He tapped his gold-handled cane against his chin contemplatively while scanning the room with a stern, haughty gaze. Then his pale blue eyes encountered his grandson, busy smoothing his own coat, and the initial impression of grandeur fell away, vanquished by the delighted smile that broke across the thin, hawk-nosed face. "Roly, dear boy, I had not thought to see you here!" he exclaimed. "How go Fiona and your son?"

Mathieson, apparently the only person present not awestruck by the duke, grinned and advanced to take Marbury's outstretched hand. "Very well, sir, and my heir especially eagerly anticipates your next visit." He bent and planted an affectionate kiss upon his grandfather's signet ring.

"There's no need for that, Roly," Marbury waved him away, obviously pleased by the salute. "I believe I have met all the gentlemen present at one occasion or another, but these two lovely ladies remain strangers to me. Do me the honor of presenting me to them."

Marguerite and Flora accordingly made their curtseys during Mathieson's introductions. When these were complete, Mathieson turned to Marbury with increased urgency and said, "Sir, I must beg to inform you of some dangerous developments in the Guardians situation that have come to light of late."

Marbury's smile faded. With a curt nod, he responded, "Of course. Why did you think I had come?" Looking about, he asked, "Is there a room where we may be private for a brief moment, Mathieson? I have something to say that is for your ears alone. Following that we may rejoin your friends." Turning a charming smile upon the company, he added, "I must beg your forgiveness for such rudeness."

A chorus of understanding comments arose. After the two men had left, Marguerite turned without thinking to look at Tiele and saw that he was regarding her already, a very soft look on his face... a face that grew more handsome with each passing moment. When he murmured for her ears alone, "May I also crave a moment of privacy, Miss Margo?" she could only sway to take his arm and walk with him from the room. When they were alone in the Green Saloon, he closed the door behind them. Before Marguerite could protest the impropriety, he took both her hands and said, "Miss Marguerite..."

"You called me Margo earlier," she prompted when he seemed to lose track of his thoughts.

"Margo, then," he agreed with a grateful smile. "I must rely upon your good judgment tomorrow."

Margo swept her gaze downward, then looked up from beneath her lashes. "I am flattered, sir."

"When we gentlemen go to deal with the Guardians, regardless of what our plans may be..."

Margo stiffened and threw back her head to meet his gaze head on. She had a feeling she would not like what came next.

"I must ask you to assure me that you will do all that is in your power to prevent Miss Havershaw from interfering."

"Inter... interfering!" Margo stuttered, whipping her fingers from his grip.

"Yes," he nodded, pleased with her understanding. "I know that I may rely upon your sober good judgement and strong sense of propriety to ensure that her wild antics do not interfere with our plans."

Margo's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "I will do no such thing, Mr. Tealeaf!" 'Sober good judgement!' 'Strong sense of propriety!' Why, he made her sound the dullest, most stuffy person alive! Gaining heat, she continued, "Flora Havershaw is a dear friend of mine, and her 'wild antics' have saved the day on more than one occasion. As have mine! And if you think for one second, Mr. Tealeaf, that I will allow you and the other men to go off and--and usurp all the fun for yourselves, then you may simply think again! I have no intention of letting you risk that dear head for..." She closed her mouth with a gulp. Her dratted temper had gotten the better of her tongue, and now she'd given the game away.

"My... 'dear head,'" he said, amusement lighting up those deep blue eyes, "is quite hard, I assure you. As are those of the others. Do you truly think it dear?"

"No," Margo sniffed. "I think it abominable. That - stuff - you call hair, could light up the room at midnight. And... and your eyes are offensive."

"Offensive?" he echoed, apparently not in the least offended.

"Offensive!" she repeated. One hand lifted to cradle his cheek. "They... look at me every time I look away, and sometimes even when I look straight at them. 'Tis very rude! And... and your beard grows too quickly...'tis already bristling..." She ran her fingers across the rough hairs. "Positively uncouth!"

"One wonders how you can bear my company," he said with deep sympathy, raising his own hand to capture hers.

Marguerite swayed closer. "I suppose, for the good of the country, I must," she sighed, lifting her other hand to grasp his lapel and lifting her face accommodatingly.

"How patriotic you are," he said huskily, and then his mouth descended to her own.

"So, Mr. Tummet, do you know the poor man then?"

"Aye, Miss Dickens. He be Lord Dunnett."

"Lord Dunnett? Oh, my! I wonder how he came to be down here, and so beaten. What should we do with him, Mr. Tummet? He still be in a bad way, and not talking sense. Mayhap he should stay here 'til he be well?"

"Nay, Miss Dickens. I think he should go to Seaforth House. I be sure the men twould like to talk with him."

"Oh, but Mr. Tummet, they be so busy with all the sick 'uns."

"Aye, Miss Dickens, so what difference would one more make?"

Flora looked up as the door to Captain Holt's bedroom opened and Marguerite and then Duncan entered. Flora hadn't been aware that either of them had even left, so caught up she had been in the various plans that had been thrown out by the gathered gentlemen. She looked a little closer at Marguerite, noting the flushed cheeks, rosy lips, mussed hair, and the sparkle in her eyes. Flora smirked a little, and admitted to herself that she recognized a look that she occasionally saw in the mirror. Flora turned her head and looked at Duncan, and saw the same look in his eyes, and the same mussed hair.

'Well, well, well,' she thought, 'so the wind in that direction. How did this happen, and without my knowledge?'

Flora then caught Marguerite's eye and gave her a meaningful look... and watched a deep blush suffuse Marguerite, from her neckline to the roots of her hair. Satisfied that she was correct in her speculations, Flora then gave Marguerite a big smile and a wink. Marguerite carefully worked her way over to where Flora sat on the bed, holding Captain Holt's hand.

"What has been occurring?" asked Marguerite.

"Well, they have been attempting to decide how to proceed, with little success... unlike you and Mr.Tiele.

"I could say the same about you and the Captain," replied Marguerite, remarking how close the Captain's head was to Flora's lap, and how entwined their hands were.

Marguerite and Flora looked at each other challengingly, until Marguerite grinned broadly (although she knew properly brought up young ladies should not grin, she also knew properly brought up young ladies should not engage in the type of behaviour she had just engaged in with Duncan, so, giving a mental shrug, she went on grinning).

Flora gave a little giggle, and then continued, "They have been counting the number of able-bodied men available to assist in whatever plan they decide upon, and have found the number wanting." Flora then frowned, "Jacob insists that he is well enough to take part, as does Uncle James."

Flora's frown clearing, she looked mischievously at Marguerite, "I feel we should offer to make up numbers. I know we could be of assistance. We already have proven our worth. What say you, Margo?"

"Oh, yes," Marguerite's eyes took on a different kind of sparkle, "Yes, they would have been lost without us."

Satisfied that they would work toward the same end, both the girls turned their attention to the discussion going on among the men spread out around the room.

August put down the roll he had been nibbling on and said, into the silence that had fallen as each person gathered tried to think of a plan, "I just recalled. Roly mentioned an acquaintance of his who might aid us. It seems this man is interested in Cicely Tilbury." He then picked up his roll and continued eating.

"Why, in God's name, would someone be interested in Cicely Tilbury?" asked Holt aloud, earning him an approving glance from Flora.

August choked on his roll, while Gordon Chandler snickered, Theo rolled his eyes, and James laughed. Holt, looking around at them, realized what was not being said, blushed, and muttered "Oh, ah, yes."

A knock, sent Gordon to the door while inquiring if they had space for any more people in the room. He found Tummet standing at the door, asking to speak to Seaforth. Upon being invited in, Tummet looked at James, touched a finger to a forelock and said, "Beggin' ye're pardon me lord, but I seem t' have stumbled across Lord Dunnet down t' the docks."

Silence greeted this statement.

"Where did you stumble across him, Tummet?" asked James, in a tightly controlled voice.

"In Miranda Dickens' da's house."

"Miranda Dickens' da's , er, father's house you say?" replied James in a faint voice.

"Aye, me lord. An in a pretty bad way, he is."

"So he would still be at Miranda Dicken's father's house?"

"Nay, me lord, not no longer."

"No longer! Do you know where he is then?" put in August.

"Oh, aye sir, he be just down t' hall, three doors on t'right."