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breast of the crowd. I tried to follow, but she disappeared out of the square, heading in the direction of Soho. I have been searching for her since the crowd dispersed.”

Nick couldn’t help it. He grabbed Jemison’s hand and shook it. “Thank you!”

Jemison pulled away and stepped back. “I do not do it for you. And now that you are here to look for her, it is best we part. I can go back to others who need me more.” He turned away.

“No, Jemison!” Nick’s words came without thought. “The two in Berkeley Square are dead. I . . . Julia needs you more.”

For a long moment it seemed that Jemison would simply stand there, his back to Nick. But then he turned. “I wonder if you know what else died tonight in your gracious square, with those two.”

Nick stepped forward. He was taller than Jemison, and broader, but he knew that the man had a will as strong and as supple as a whip, and a fierce, unflinching ability to do what must be done. “I need you, Jemison,” Nick said. “We must find Julia. Not only because she is in danger . . .” How to explain? Nick stared at the man who had seen him disappear from under the dragoon’s sword. “Jemison,” he said. “I want—” He stopped.

Jemison said nothing, and his eyes glittered in the darkness.

“I want to tell you what happened to me at Salamanca,” Nick said, pushing on, “and I need you to believe me.”

“I am a rational man. I do not believe in demons.”

“When the dragoon reared above me, I jumped forward in time,” Nick said, his voice a whisper. “Two hundred years. A group of . . .” Nick paused, searching for words. “A group of aristocrats from throughout history control the flow of time just as if it were money. They control who can travel, who can even know that time is malleable. Are you following me?”

Jemison blinked. His expression had not changed even one iota since Nick began his incredible confession.

“History itself is now threatened by an unknown power emanating from the future. And Julia . . .” Here Nick ground to a halt.

Jemison let his gaze soar up, above the rooftops, to where the moon rode silver in the sky. “Julia,” he said. “Julia is what?” The black eyes met his again, and Nick could read nothing in them.

“Julia is also able to manipulate time,” Nick said. “But she is alone; she does not even know that I have the gift, or that I know she has the gift. Now she is running from a man who hopes to find her and perhaps kill her. That is why she could not go home again. And why it was the hand of God that swept her from you tonight, and kept you from dragging her back to my house, where that man was waiting for her. Perhaps that is a sign that she is lucky. Perhaps she has come to no harm.”

Jemison was silent, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket. His face was expressionless, neither friendly nor hostile.

Solvig snorted, eager to continue her search.

Nick sighed. “You do not believe me,” he said. “You think me war-addled.”

Jemison smiled as calmly as if Nick had been describing the theory of gravity. “On the contrary, my lord. I believe you completely.”

CHAPTER FORTY

I tell you, Nick, she is not here.”

“Your godforsaken dog thinks she’s here.” Nick yanked at Solvig’s lead; the dog was pulling away from him, straining down the front steps of Alva’s house. She was fascinated by some spot in the street.

Solvig turned resentful eyes on Nick and barked, then with one strong yank of her lead she broke free and bounded down the stairs, to stand over that spot on the pavement, her nose pushing back and forth in the dirt.

Alva was wearing a silver wrap over not very much, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a complicated confection of loops and curls. Now she watched her former pet, a furrow between her brows. “Perhaps she didn’t follow the trail at all. Perhaps she just led you home to me.”

“She was following some sort of scent,” Nick said. “She dragged us up and down every street in Soho, her nose down and her tail up like a flag.”

Alva pursed her lips, then turned to Jemison. “Who is your friend, Nick? Are you going to introduce us?”

“Miss Blomgren, Mr. Jemison,” Nick said, gesturing impatiently from one to the other. “I’ve told him about the Ofan and the Guild, Alva, so you’ve no need to be secretive.”

“Oh, have you.” Alva tipped her head on one side and gave her full attention to Jemison. “And you believe his lordship, Mr. Jemison?”

Jemison bowed. “I have reason to trust what he says.”

Alva nodded, once. “That is high praise, indeed.” She turned back to Nick, who was almost quivering with impatience. “That was a remarkable decision you made, Nick, to tell a Natural about the River of Time. You must trust Mr. Jemison, in return.”

“Obviously.” Nick punched his fist into his open palm. “Now can we stop caring and sharing and get on with finding a young woman who might well be in mortal danger? Why, for instance, would Julia come here of all places?”

Alva glanced down and fingered the fine texture of her garment. “I’m not sure.”

“That is not the truth,” Jemison said.

Alva’s gaze flew up and Nick watched as the courtesan and the ex-soldier locked eyes.

“You are an observant man,” Alva said.

Jemison bowed his head.

“Your friend is correct.” Alva turned to Nick with a half smile. “Or at least, he is not wrong. I don’t know why Julia would come to me. But she was here yesterday. She came with your sister.”

“They visited you? A prostitute?”

Alva put her hand on Nick’s arm. “Please do not play the marquess with me, Nick. I met your sister on a harmless walk a week or so ago. She did not inform me of her rank, and we chatted quite naturally. Then

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