Marguerite's mouth gaped unbecomingly as she recognized the rakish hero of the carriage melee. Her pert nose began to crunch a bit in disdain before she remembered that her mother thought it was unattractive. Grabbing a book from the shelf, she quickly scampered down and made a brief curtsy. "Mr. Teal, what a pleasant surprise is your visit! I was just getting a book to read." She waved the book around grandiosely in order to drive home the point that in no way possible had she been eavesdropping.

The visitor nodded his head sagely and said, "Ah, yes, I too enjoyed reading Hobbes' Leviathan. At Eton. With much help. I'm sure you will find it most interesting." The twinkle in his very blue eyes caused Marguerite to momentarily forget to reply. Then, she blushed and put down the book she had not even glanced at as he continued, "I'm glad to see you in exquisite health, Miss Templesea, and I would ordinarily delight in engaging you for a few moments of unnecessary banter. However, not only am I still bruised from our little encounter yesterday but I also have something of the utmost urgency to impart to my friend Jacob Holt. He is here, no?"

Marguerite was about to mention that it was not Templesea, but Templeby, when an interruption occurred.

"Jacob?" Saying the name with delight, Flora slipped in from the terrace somewhat surreptitiously. "He's presently engaged, but..." and with this her eyes flashed excitedly to Marguerite, "I'm sure Cousins will understand the urgency of the situation." Her face expressed the satisfaction of finding a way into the guarded drawing room.

Flora thus, imperiously drawing both their guest and Marguerite after her, once again did battle, toe to toe with Cousins and finally gained access to the heavily guarded sanctuary of the Seaforth mansion. Striding confidently in to the astonishment of the men and women gathered therein, Flora faltered but a bit at the sight of a dashing military coat and then announced, "Uncle James, please let me introduce..." and then stopped with a blank stare, recalling that she did not know the fellow's name.

Marguerite, always there for Flora when her schemes went awry, was about to step in with introductions when three of the men and one of the women chorused, "Tiele! Duncan!" And chaos ensued.

Unnoticed, both Flora and Marguerite were allowed to stay and witness the ensuing events although Marguerite's brother had the presence of mind to secure the door.

Tearing his serious eyes away from the contemplation of Miss Havershaw's fair form, Captain Holt took Duncan by the arms and shook him slightly, "Thank God you're safe, man! Can you imagine if I had to explain your abduction to your sire? The old martinet would have strangled me!"

Simultaneously, Falcon was trying to extract the actual details of escape from the injured fellow but the expressions of concern were drowning out his inquiries.

Touched by his old friend's obvious concern, Duncan smiled somewhat and replied, "I would never have put you in such a bind, my friend. But list, I have something I must impart to you." He looked around somewhat uneasily.

Jacob shook his bewigged head reassuringly, "Fear not. All within are privy." He had meant to include Flora in this announcement and by extension her friend, but James Seaforth took exception to this.

Flora's uncle took a step forward and pointed dramatically to the door, "Child, were you not told to remain outside?!"

Flora flounced a bit and said, "With all respect that is due to a man of such advanced years, Uncle, I was invaluable in the recovery of the sapphire and the general vanquishing of the villains."

Jacob looked like he would object to the use of the word "vanquishing" but for Seaforth's interjection. "Advanced? Years?" He barely noticed as his wife patted his hand calmingly. "And you, Jacob, if you truly have your interest fixed on my niece how could you wish for her to be placed in more danger?"

Flora blushed crimson at this overt rendering of her relationship with the dashing captain. Jacob flushed and looked about to agree that perhaps it was best if Flora withdrew from the withdrawing room, when Gwendolyn Rossiter, from her perch beside the stormy August Falcon, decided to take umbrage. "James Havershaw, are you truly trying to tell me that Flora is incapable of contributing to this venture? That's right! You may add this Mister Tea-Leaf to our merry band of agents but still insist that Flora, who has assisted from the beginning, is not to be included?!"

Duncan opened his mouth to correct this impudent miss about his name and Jacob attempted to defend James when August Falcon, crimson with fury, shouted them all down. "What in God's name is the information you have for us, Tiele? And how did you escape the house?!" With the rest of the crowd silenced, Duncan explained his adventure, his escape (at which point Tio Glendenning murmured to his wife that it bared some similarity to her escapades, for which he received a sharp poke on the shoulder with the blunt end of her woe and strife) and the unsettling assumptions he had made.

Digesting this information, Falcon murmured to the inhabitants of the room that perhaps it was time to pool their resources and information. James and Anne along with the missing member Alexander Erskyn had a royal appointment that day that they could not avoid. Thus the Seaforths would, on their way to St. James' Palace, collect their errant friend ("Who has gone to rescue you," Gordon interjected) and continue their appointment. Tio and Amy were to remain with Duncan and bring him up to speed and keep an eye on Marguerite before returning home with her to Glendenning Abbey. Gordon would chase up a lead he had sniffed out and Jacob was to meet up with a friend of Erskyn's named Cave who was arriving in town that day with important information. In the meanwhile, Falcon and the Smallest Rossiter had promised to visit the invalid Roland Mathieson who was complaining of boredom despite the attentions of his intrepid wife and clever daughter.

At this last, Gordon turned to Duncan, "I believe you know him." Duncan raised a querulous eyebrow, "No, I don't believe I do. Oh, I know some Mathiesons, the Duke of Marbury, for instance..." He stopped. "His infamous grandson?"

Gordon nodded and smiled a bit, "But I believe you know him better as Roland Otton."

"Otton!" If Duncan could hiss he would have. "Of course, that's the bastard who tortured your brother and knocked me on the head. That villain! He's Mathieson? Don't tell me you cry friends with him now."

Gordon grimaced, "Not in the least. But he is, at present, an ally."

Duncan snorted, "And he is trusted?" He thought a moment. "Oh, Lord. I seem to recall my uncle mentioning a Mathieson in a favorable light. Something about a rogue and a ruse."

Gordon shrugged, "Evidently, he's a reformed rogue now and was quite useful to Falcon and Erskyn in this latest scrap. I heard that he was very badly wounded because of it and his daughter was threatened."

"God!" Shocked, Duncan asked, "What vile kind of man would threaten a child even of such a base sort as Otton?" He paused, "Still, I would watch your back in a fight with that one."

Gordon smiled grimly, "Oddly, in fights he is relatively useful. Even when on the wrong side. And in this new business, we'll need all the help we can get. Even the convalescent rogue kind. Now. Tell me again what this Cecily Tilbury said to you. I need all the leverage I can get before I go meet up with this man of mine."

With much reluctance and subtle promises of returning with a gift, Jacob Holt, with a lighter heart than he had had in many years, struck out to meet Gareth Cave at the Laughing Cameleopard, an innocuous enough inn at the corner of Marylebone and Luxborough St. Although it was less than a mile from Seaforth's house in Berkeley Square, it would still take twenty five minutes to get there due to the congestion in the streets at this time of day. As his horse wended its way through the hawkers and the sellers, the stockjobbers and the fashionably dressed, he let himself dream of Flora. He knew she was fond of him, but just how fond was his only concern. However much he loved her, and love her he did, he would never marry a woman who was merely fond of him. He wanted a marriage like his cousins, who would believe it!, but Roly seemed to be as happy as a man like him could be. And Fiona, dear Fiona, was a charmer and kept the reformed rogue guessing. Jacob had always known he would not fall in love with an insipid, dull lady but with a true Indomitable. Flora was definitively that: an Indomitable spirit.

His musings were rudely interrupted when a stockjobber thrust lottery tickets under his nose and waved them about. Pushing them brusquely away, he dismounted as he approached the inn with the exotically-humourous looking creature painted onto the wooden and newly hung sign. Throwing his reins to the boy standing by the door, Jacob strode into the inn and looked around before spotting He Who He Had Come To Seek. He heard him before he saw him. How could one not? Gareth Cave was Scottish (a Lowlander to be sure, but still Scottish), grumpy, and of an undistinguished height. Unusually for him, he was not accompanied by his sparring partner, the lovely if Amazon-esque Miss Mariana Atwell. In lieu of her, Cave was attempting to argue with the ostler who had withdrawn inside for a well-deserved drink. Getting little to no response, Cave was about to give up, grumpily of course, when he spotted Holt. Thankful to see a relatively friendly face, he greeted him a bit enthusiastically.

"Holt, you wee bastard! Thank Jesus that you have arrived! I was about to bore myself silly here." Cave pumped the Captain's hand up and down several times, accompanying it with what for him was verily a grin and for anyone else... a grimace.

Holt withdrew his hand stickily, "From the sound of your own voice, I'm sure." Seeing Gareth about to growl a nasty response, Holt headed him off at the pass by dragging him into a deserted side room and demanding to be told the occurrences in lower Scotland.

After listening to Duncan's story once again, Gordon thoughtfully set out on his own excursion. He had not told Duncan where he was going for fear of hurting him. His contact was a cousin of Duncan's whose mental state was not the best and had fallen on severely hard times since his unexplainable release from Bedlam. Upon release from that most notorious of places, Duncan's cousin had found himself in the company of a certain group of people, not as their equal but as their servant. Confused and angry, he had been ripe for the plucking. Gordon, who had been shocked to see Duncan at Lady Middlebury's ball, had refrained from arranging to meet his contact at the Seaforth Manor. For Brooks Lambert, insane and only recently harmless, would certainly recognize his cousin Duncan Tiele.

Each to their own mission, Falcon and Gwendolyn Rossiter had made their way quickly to Mathieson's house. Falcon had only recently become well-acquainted with Mathieson's detailed history with Chandler and silently thanked St. Thomas (whom he had appropriated from Roly) that Mathieson would be unable to participate in this latest affair. Or so he hoped. He wouldn't put it past the villain to make a special effort to come in contact with Chandler, just to see what would happen. He was determined however to prevent that. In this, he was aided not only by his own fiancée, but also Mathieson's own wife and daughter.

Little Mary, who was a true child of her parents and therefore had suffered her own adventure recently, was sitting on her father's stomach attempting to feed him soup when they arrived. In doing so, her father's silk shirt was well-fed but he himself was consuming little. Mary's mother was sitting blithely in the window watching this with much amusement while separating her cat Picayune from the two recently-acquired puppies. Thus, Mathieson welcomed the distraction of visitors and demanded an update on the events.

After being briefed (although any mention of Gordon Chandler was strangely deleted from the tale), Mathieson mused thoughtfully on the subject and then offered an observation, "If Daventry is the contact point, I assume that we would be seeing much more traffic in St. John's Wood than you say is actually present. No, we must assume they are too canny for us. And this business in France bothers me. I think perhaps you should send Jacob or the like to Lisette Barthelemey's residence outside Lyon. Her family owes us a few favors and has also often been the center of disaffected noblemen. Especially Scottish and English noblemen who disagree with our Hanoverian majesty."

Falcon nodded briefly and with a brief curl of his lip that he knew would infuriate the convalescent replied, "I knew I could count on you to know where the villains would go, if not for a sensible cut of dress." And waved an elegant hand at Roly's soup-covered silk shirt.

And both Gwendolyn and Fiona watched with delight as a sparring match began.

The dark beauty that had so briefly captivated our Teal Marauder (aka Duncan Tiele) was not so beautiful at the moment. Her features were contorted with anger as she discussed with her lover that the priorities should no longer be their grand scheme but instead the more personal scheme of revenge upon those who had foiled them.

As the others left the room for tea, Margo detained Horatio.

"I do not want to go back to the Abbey!" Margo stamped her dainty slipper. "I am having a splendid time with Flora and wish to stay with her, Tio."

Tio's eyes widened in surprise at this outburst from his usually easy-going sister. Noticing that her looks were greatly improved from her illness, he leaned against the mantel and drawled," I was sent to retrieve you from Bath, but here you are so I really should take you back home."

"Why, Tio?" Margo placed her hand on his arm and looked up pleadingly. "You know Mama and Papa are going to visit her sister next week. Please Tio, for just a little while longer."

Tio sighed, "Oh, very well. You know that I am never able to tell you no. I shall have your abigail..." Margo flung her arms around his neck nearly toppling them both. "Thank you brother dearest."

Tio straightened the cravat and wig that Margo's onslaught had knocked askew. "I shall send a note to Michael and let him know to keep an eye on you since he is in town."

"Very well, Tio," as Margo led him by the arm to where the others were having their tea.

With a look of triumph on her face, Margo marched over to Flora, "Tio says I may stay with you a while longer."

Flora clapped her hands in delight. "Ooh, how wonderful."

Studiously avoiding Mr. Tiele's eyes, Margo took Flora by the arm leading her towards the door. "I must make a list of things that I need my abigail to send. Come Flora."

Tio and Amy looked at each other in amusement as the two girls left the room chattering.

Daventry watched fascinated as Cecily agitatedly paced the floor. The scar on her face that she tried so hard to hide with cosmetics and her hair, stood out in stark contrast against her flushed face.

He began, "I think...."

Cecily stopped her pacing and looked at him as if she had forgotten his presence (which indeed she had). She waved her hand impatiently towards the door. "Oh, begone. I can think better without you here. Do not let anyone see you leaving out the back alley though."

She moved to sit in front of her dressing table and caught sight of his haughty look in the mirror. "I shall send you a note when I have a plan ready for you." Daventry grabbed his cloak and tricorne and stomped his way out knowing that it would do no good to argue.

Cecily groaned inwardly, "Why must I always deal with either young boys who know nothing or pompous imbeciles who think they know everything?"

Reaching for a drawer, she withdrew a well-worn note. Reading it her eyes softened,

She only had a vague memory of her rescuer. All that she could recall was a tall stranger through the haze of pain as the doctor's wife had nursed her.

Replacing the note, Cecily caught a glimpse of her reflection. She scowled at the ruining of her face. "I shall get even with every single one of them somehow, especially that witch Primat."