Ralph had waited in the shadows, crouched behind the chaise until he saw that Helen had left the room. Her refusal to join him had not taken him by surprise. He had always known that she was a woman with a strong sense of honour. However, he also knew the danger she was exposing herself to by returning to the ballroom with Melrose.

All the men that accompanied her wore elaborate masks that completely hid their identity. One of them was bound to be Le Renard. Ralph had been warned by his brother that Le Renard was ruthless and would stop at nothing to get his revenge. Helen was in grave danger, and he was the only person who would have her best interests at heart. Haverstock and the others, including his brother, Alex, were far too concerned with getting revenge on Melrose. He had to follow her and make sure that she was safe.

He followed them into the ballroom and stood at the far end observing them. One of the gentlemen, wearing a mask with a large hooked nose, led Helen onto the dancefloor. As the music started, the gentleman had a tight hold on Helen, and they were soon in deep conversation. Ralph could make out that the gentleman was not Lavorel. Lavorel was a reasonably tall man, almost the same height as he was. However, the gentlemen she was dancing with was about average height. Ralph had managed to get a reasonably good vantage point, one where he could observe the dancefloor when Amber joined him again. As he immediately drew her onto the dancefloor, they joined the swirling mass of couples. As Ralph danced with Amber, he was able to observe Helen and her partner more clearly. He gave part of his attention to Amber, but he was aware of where Helen was at all times.

As the dance progressed, the dancefloor became more crowded with couples and watching Helen was becoming difficult. Most of the guests were drunk, and their behaviour was becoming more raucous and leary. Due to the large numbers on the dancefloor, Ralph was finding it almost impossible to avoid the other couples.

It was after he had collided with one of these couples that he lost sight of Helen. He began to worry as he looked across the ballroom, trying to find her distinctive silhouette dressed in white satin. He looked over the group of gentlemen that she had been with earlier. Four of them stood, still wearing their masks, talking with each other.

Where could she have gone?

He danced with Amber around the edge of the ballroom, desperately trying to catch just a glimpse of Helen, but she was nowhere to be found.

Amber still clung to him. She must have sensed his distraction as she employed all her feminine whiles to try and catch his interest. He had to get rid of her again. He took advantage of the crowded dancefloor and purposefully collided with another couple dancing. Amber let go of him, and this allowed Ralph to slip away from her. He then left the ballroom using the same door as the one he had entered earlier. When he entered the corridor, he looked up and down, trying to locate her. However, he did not even catch a glimpse of her.

He had to find the others and persuade them that searching for Helen must become their priority. His brother had been tasked, along with Miss de Havilland, to make a thorough search of Melrose's office. Ralph decided the best course of action was to go and find them. He knew that this was veering away from Haverstock's plan and that Alex would not be happy, but at this point, Ralph did not care.

He slipped silently down the corridor and entered Melrose's private sitting room. He looked over to the chaise that Helen had been occupying less than half an hour ago and felt a stab of regret. If only he could have persuaded her to go with him then, she would now be safe.

He carefully opened the door to Melrose's office and went inside. It was quiet, but there was the telltale pile of untidy papers on the desk that made it look like they had been recently disturbed.

'Alex,' Ralph whispered, as he walked over to the desk, 'are you here?'

Alex came out from behind the curtains, closely followed by Miss de Havilland. As soon as she saw him, she immediately went back to the safe she was trying to unlock.

'What are you doing here?' Alex said curtly. 'You are meant to be in the ballroom, keeping an eye on Hepworth and the others.'

There was a loud click from behind them, and Ralph looked down to see that the crouching Miss de Havilland had unlocked the safe.

'They've taken Helen,' Ralph said, as he raked his fingers through his hair.

'What do you mean,' Alex replied, 'they've taken Helen?'

'She's disappeared from the ballroom,' Ralph said, desperation creeping into his voice.

'What's so unusual about that?' Alex said casually. 'She's probably gone upstairs with Lavorel. She is, whether you like it or not, his mistress.'

'She wasn't with Lavorel,' Ralph said in frustration at his brother's complacency.

'Maybe she's gone with someone else. Just because she's left the ballroom doesn't mean that they've taken her,' Alex said dismissively. 'She may have left of her own accord.'

'She's frightened, Alex,' he said, starting to feel the anger he was trying to control bubble up within him. 'I know she's in danger. We have to help her.'

'Our priority is Melrose and finding the identity of Le Renard,' Alex said coolly. 'I'm sorry Ralph, but Helen knew the risks before she agreed to help Haverstock. We all did.'

'Alex, don't be such an unfeeling bastard,' Ralph said, letting his anger show.

'If she's disappeared, the chances are that she is in grave danger,' a female voice said from beside him.

He looked down to see Miss de Havilland looking up at him. He had not paid her much attention since he had entered the room. When he had last seen her, earlier that evening, she was still wearing a shapeless brown gown. However, now, she was unconventionally dressed in boy's breeches and an oversized riding jacket. On her feet, she wore a pair of old scruffy riding boots, and her long dark hair had been loosely tied in a plait that fell down her back. Around her waist, she wore a leather belt that had a large sheathed knife attached to her hip. She looked like a pirate, not at all like the dowdy schoolmistress she had been that afternoon.

'I've had a good look at the documents in the safe. There was an interesting list of names, but nothing else incriminating. He keeps most of his business records in his house in Grosvenor Square,' Miss de Havilland paused and looked over at Ralph. 'If they are certain that she betrayed them, she is in serious trouble. Alex, your brother, is right, we have to help her.'

'I don't know,' Alex said warily, 'Haverstock will not be happy.'

'Sod Haverstock,' she said defiantly, 'he's not the one putting his life on the line. You know what they are like, Alex. They are not going to have her killed, they will make an example of her. We have to find her.'

She went to the desk and took a notebook from her pocket and scribbled the names down. Once she was finished, she turned around to them. 'We have to put everything back where we found it,' she said, as she knelt back on the floor and carefully put all the papers back into the safe.

Once she had relocked the safe, she stood up. 'I think I know where they have taken her, but the only way we can access it is from the outside of the house,' she said knowledgeably. 'I can climb up and get her out if she is there. You should go and check the cellars. They may have taken her there. It is probably best if we check both places just in case.'

'There's not much we can do here,' she said, taking one more look around the office to make sure that everything was in order. 'Let's just hope that Helen has been able to find the identity of Le Renard. Otherwise, all we have is a list of names that may or may not be useful.'

Helen was giving in to the despair she was increasingly feeling. Her hands and feet had been bound so tightly together that there was no way she could loosen the bonds. She tried to scream, but the gag had been tied so tightly around her jaw that it was impossible to make any more noise than a few stifled groans.

Hepworth had left a candle on a table opposite the bed. In the flickering light, she could just make out the items, that would have been more suited to a torture chamber, scattered across the surface. There were manacles and various types of whips. All were designed to inflict maximum pain. Helen had no doubt of the "niche tastes" of these gentlemen that Hepworth would bring later that night. She had met brutish men like them in Spain. They were barbarically perverse and took pleasure in inflicting pain and watching the suffering of others.

Tears threatened to flow down her cheeks. She felt trapped and devoid of any hope, and she now regretted not leaving with Ralph. What was the use of knowing Le Renard's identity when there was no one to tell?

She heard a noise and stiffened. A fear, like she had never experienced before, paralysed her. This was it. Hepworth's threat was just about to become a reality.

A shadowy figure came over to the bed. Helen looked up fearfully at them as they pulled down the black kerchief that was covering the lower part of their face. To Helen's surprise, it was a woman.

'My name is Rachel,' she said quietly, as she took a vicious looking knife out of a sheath attached to her belt. She reached behind Helen and cut the knot that tied the gag around the back of her head. She then moved swiftly and cut the bonds that bound her legs and wrists together.

'Bastards,' Helen heard her mutter under her breath.

Once Helen was free, Rachel helped her sit up.

'We better get out of here,' Rachel said her voice low, 'before the sadistic bastards get here. Are you able to stand?'

Helen tentatively swung her legs over the side of the bed. The silk bonds had been wrapped so tightly that she had lost all feeling in her lower legs. She stamped on the floor several times, and she began to feel the prickle of pins and needles as the blood slowly returned to her extremities.

'Yes,' she said, as she rubbed her wrists that were red and sore. 'I think so.'

Rachel shrugged out of her jacket and gave it to Helen. 'You better put this on,' she said with a smile, 'we are going to have to go out through the window and climb down. It's a cold night, and the grass is already covered with frost.'

'What about you?' Helen asked. It was the first time she had been able to examine Rachel carefully. She was dressed in dark breeches and a dark grey, almost black flannel shirt.

'Don't worry about me,' Rachel said, as she flashed Helen a smile. 'I'm more worried that your white dress will be seen. The jacket will help you blend in and provide a little camouflage.'

Helen stood up and put on the jacket. It covered her body to just below the waist. Rachel was still looking at her critically. 'Your skirts are going to hamper your escape,' she said after her examination. 'If I cut up one leg and make a slit, I think that will help. I think we should also shorten the hem.'

Helen nodded. The skirts from her dress were tight and clung to her skin. Any movement, except walking, would be almost impossible. 'Good idea,' Helen said pragmatically.

Rachel took her knife and made a nick at the bottom of the hem. She then tore the material up to Helen's upper thigh. She then made a horizontal cut just below the knee and tore off nearly two feet of satin so that the hem rested on her knees.

'Come on,' Rachel said, with a grin as she went towards the window. 'I do not want to be here when those sadistic bastards arrive.'

'Rachel,' Helen said as Rachel opened the window. 'If I don't make it, tell Haverstock that Lord Hepworth is Le Renard. And tell him he has to fulfil his promise. He'll know what it is.'

Rachel nodded. 'I'll make sure he does,' she said, as she slowly opened the window. 'He may be a heartless bastard, but he is a man of his word.'

Once Rachel had opened the window, Helen could feel the cold night air hit her. 'I'll go first,' Rachel said calmly, 'just follow me. I'll help you find your footing.'

Helen had always had a healthy respect for heights. As she looked down at the sheer drop onto the terrace below, she felt a little dizzy. She took a deep breath. Now was the time to conquer her fear, so she followed Rachel onto the narrow windowsill.

'There is a drainpipe three feet to the left of the window. Try and grab hold of it and start to ease yourself down. It is very secure and should easily take both our weights.' Rachel said as she reached out and grabbed hold of the drainpipe.

'Should?' Helen queried, raising her eyebrows.

Rachel flashed her a grin. 'Come on,' she said encouragingly, 'just don't look down.'

Rachel's advice was easier said than done. There was an overriding temptation to glance down at the terrace below that Helen had to continually battle. She took another deep breath. With everything she had been through this evening, this could not defeat her.

As Helen reached out for the drainpipe and felt the cold metal on her hands, she was glad that Rachel had given her the jacket. It was a very cold evening and the jacket, still warm from Rachel, kept the chill at bay. She was also glad that Rachel had adapted her dress. It would have been impossible to climb down the narrow metal pipe without being able to move freely.

As they descended slowly down, Helen began to lose sensation in her fingers as they clasped the cold metal. However, Helen knew that she had to keep going. She took a deep breath and drew on all her inner strength.

When they were close to the ground, Rachel grabbed her waist and helped her down the last few feet. They both crouched, taking advantage of a large shadow cast by a tree. Rachel pointed to some shrubs at the far end of the garden. 'We'll run over to them,' she said authoritatively. 'There's a pistol in the pocket of the jacket,' Rachel added, 'it's already loaded. If anyone tries to take you, kill them.'

'What about you?' Helen said, 'don't you need it.'

'I have my knife,' Rachel said, as she motioned to the sheathed knife by her waist. Rachel looked around again. 'Come,' she ordered, 'we had better go.'

Helen followed Rachel as they ran across a well-manicured lawn to the shrubs at the far end. Once they were hidden behind the shrubs, Helen looked up to the window where they had just been. There was a light shining brightly in the still open window, and she could clearly see a figure of a man looking out across the lawn.

'Damn,' Rachel said with feeling, 'I was hoping we would have a little more time.'

Helen did not say anything. She sensed that Rachel needed silence to think. 'We should go to the stables and steal a couple of horses,' Rachel eventually said, 'we can cover more ground on horseback.'

Helen nodded.

'Just follow me,' Rachel said, as she left the safety of the shrubbery and started to run towards the back of the house.