Elizabeth Thornton by Whisper His Name Page A

just such an occasion as this in the top drawer of her bureau, but even if she got to it, she couldn’t remember if it was loaded. And if she tried to throw this monster off her, he would slit her throat.
    The blackness of terror swam at the edges of her mind and she fought it off by sheer force of will. She squealed when he moved his weight, and he laughed softly.
    “Frightened, Miss Vayle?”
    “No … y-yes. What about my brother? How can I be sure that you have him?”
    “What a suspicious mind you have, Miss Vayle. It so happens that I brought a letter from George with me. You’ll find it on the dresser. Rest assured he’s alive and well, for the moment.”
    “Please,” she said hoarsely. “Please, I’ll do anything you say.”
    “George will be glad to hear it, because if you fail me, he knows we’ll do to him what we did to Jerome and Colette when they crossed us.”
    She swallowed a bubble of panic. She had to ask. “What did you do to them?”
    He answered pleasantly, “We skinned Jerome alive, but we were more merciful with Colette. I put a bullet in her brain.”
    Now she knew she was going to be sick. “I won’t cross you. I swear to God. I won’t cross you.”
    “No? I bet that right this minute you’re thinking that as soon as you’re free, you’re going to call in the magistrates and constables to track me down and find your brother.”
    That’s exactly what had been going through her mind! “No,” she moaned. “No. I wasn’t! I didn’t. I promise.”
    “If you go to the authorities, you’ll never see your brother alive again. I’ll cut him up and send him to you in little pieces. And if you go to our competitors, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born. We’ll be watching you, Miss Vayle, and at the first hint of trouble, we’ll cut our losses.”
    She believed him. A wave of despair washed through her. If she didn’t have the book he wanted, how could she hope to save her brother? One false step on her part and it would be all over for George. And who were his competitors?
    “Don’t leave Bath until you hear from me. Do you understand?”
    “Who are you?”
    “I’m nobody, Miss Vayle. I’m nobody at all. Don’t confide in anyone. If you do, I’ll find out about it, and you wouldn’t like that either.” He laughed softly. “And neither would they.”
    “I—” she said, and got no further. Pain exploded through her head, and she sank back on the pillows as blackness engulfed her.
    Nemo was thinking about the girl all the way back to his hotel on George Street. When he entered his bedchamber he locked the door, then took a good, hard look at himself in the looking glass above the washstand. Harry Norton, George’s “friend,” stared back at him.
    He’d finally met the girl who had bested him in Paris, and he wanted to laugh out loud. Miss Abigail Vayle was not what he’d expected. She was no match for him. She was as fearful as a mouse. But that might be a façade. She had certainly fooled him in Dessene’s bookshop in the Palais Royal. He’d said something coarse just to get rid of her so that he could deal with Colette. And all the time, this unremarkable English girl was the person Colette had come to meet. Incredible!
    Miss Abigail Vayle was, without doubt, quite a surprise. She’d got the book from Colette, and now she was trying to sell it to the highest bidder. Jerome and Colette would be turning in their graves if they knew.
    He removed his wig, and then with the precision of an actor, removed all other traces of Harry Norton—the powder and paint, the pale eyebrows and the receding hairline. He’d already removed the wads of tape that had plumped up his cheeks to make him look younger. The tape altered his speech, and he was glad now that he’d used a different voice when he confronted the girl tonight, because he’d decided to keep Harry Norton alive. He was self-effacing and harmless, the kind of young man women trusted. Miss Vayle did not