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men,” she said accusingly. “They came for me and said you wanted to speak with me.”
    His men? Could the runners have caught up with her?
    “My men don’t resort to this kind of violence,” he countered. His conscience gave a little twinge as he realized that he wasn’t sure exactly how far the runners would go in carrying out his orders. And where was Luke in all this?
    “But they said their employer had ordered them to kidnap me,” she said. “They would have succeeded, too, if Matt hadn’t come along.”
    Now he was getting somewhere. “And who is Matt?”
    “Matt Sweeney. I hired him to escort me. He was late and when I went to find him they grabbed me. Oh God, and then Matt came and he tried to get me away but they stabbed him. I think he’s dead.” She started shaking as she relived the horror.
    Alexander grabbed the glass before it could fall from her hands. She looked so young and vulnerable that he had to resist the urge to put his arm around her and comfort her. He had to remind himself that her troubles were none of his concern.
    “I didn’t set the villains on you but someone clearly did. I can help you but only if you tell me everything. Tell me who was behind the scheme to fix the race.”
    “But I don’t know!”
    She was stronger than she appeared, and a worthy adversary. But she was also in shock from the attack, and half-drunk on his expensive brandy. It was time to home in for the kill. “Do you want to wind up dead in the streets like this Matt? Tell me who put you up to this. If you help me I’ll help you. Otherwise—”
    He let the threat trail off into silence.
    She opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words. His experience told him that she was ready to break, to spill her secrets. But the words that came our of her mouth were the last thing that he expected to hear.
    “You stupid Englishman! Didn’t you hear what I said? I have no partners. You’re the only one who thinks I am part of some scheme.”
    “But what about the race? What about the prediction you made at Lady Stanthorpe’s?”
    “It was a mistake,” she cried out. “I intended a different reading, but the cards went wrong. It was all a stupid mistake. I should never have been at that party. If Madame Zoltana hadn’t broken her leg none of this would have happened.”
    He didn’t want to believe her. It could still be an act, but his instincts told him otherwise. She had nearly lost her life tonight. A guilty woman would have grasped at his offer of protection. Even an innocent might have been tempted to lie, telling him whatever he wanted to hear, rather than putting herself back in jeopardy. But instead the Gypsy asserted her innocence, which made it just possible that she was telling the truth.
    “But if you are innocent, then who wanted you enough to commit murder?” he asked. It was the one hole in her story.
    “If it wasn’t your men—”
    “It wasn’t.”
    “Then I don’t know,” she insisted. “It makes no sense. Until a fortnight ago I was just an out-of-work seamstress.”
    It made no sense to him, either. But he had faith that he could get to the bottom of the matter. And in so doing, he would prove her innocence or her guilt. “It makes no sense to me, but I am very good at puzzles, and I will figure it out eventually.”
    The Gypsy sank back against the cushioned sofa, the brandy and events of the night finally catching up with her. “If you were so good at solving things you would have known I wasn’t to blame,” she argued.
    “Rest now,” he said. “Things will look better in the morning.”
    It was good advice for himself as well. It was too late tonight, but in the morning he could start checking out her improbable story. And he would start with Bob Parker. The timing of the attack on Mademoiselle Magda was a little too coincidental. The guilty twinge he felt now would be nothing compared to how he would feel if he learned Luke or one of the runners was behind the