A/N: Hello, everyone!

I know, I know, I totally suck. *Hangs head in shame* I really can't apologize enough for not updating sooner. I just hope you all can forgive me :)

Anywho, I won't take up too much of your time blathering on, as I know that those of you still interested in this story just want to read it already lol ;)

Happy reading!

At half past nine, Rachel pleaded a headache and went up to her room early. Once there, she began to prepare for her adventure.

Her palms were damp and her heart pounded frantically against her ribs. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this! She was running away! It was like something out of a novel.

She didn't care that her reputation would be ruined. Society would forgive her once she became a duchess. There would be those who would think she wanted only the title and was marrying Quinn instead of Finn just to increase her own importance, but she didn't care. She loved Quinn, not Finn, and nothing else mattered.

Shortly after ten, Rachel heard her mother and father come up the stairs to their rooms. Her mother, obviously not wanting to disturb her in case she was actually sleeping, hadn't even knocked on her door. Rachel felt a little guilty over deceiving her parents, but she couldn't risk them trying to prevent her from going with Quinn. Her mother was finally beginning to comprehend the sort of violence Finn was capable of, but no one knew how far he would go to claim the dukedom. Quinn's life was not something Rachel wanted to risk.

She even felt a little guilty over jilting Finn, but only a very little. He deserved to be humiliated after all he had tried to do to Quinn.

Quinn. Just the thought of her unleashed a horde of butterflies in Rachel's stomach and made her skin prickle with a frisson of electricity.

She glanced at the clock. It was now almost eleven. In a little more than an hour she would be on her way to Scotland with the woman she loved. It was as difficult to believe as a dream.

Standing in the middle of her bedroom, Rachel gave the room a final look around. It would be a long time – if ever – before she saw the pale yellow wallpaper with its tiny rose stripes and flowers. She had slept in the rose canopied bed her entire life, woken up in it almost every morning since her father had bought it for her. He had even bought her the matching dressing table, even though she had had little use for it at the time. It wasn't until her mother started taking her out into society that she had had a need for the high mirror and all its dainty drawers. That was when she suddenly started amassing a huge collection of ribbons, bows, and other hair accessories, such as curling tongs, clips, and pins. It was where she kept all of her personal grooming items.

Rachel supposed that she would have another dressing table, possibly even sharing Quinn's, at Castle Fabray.

A castle! Rachel would be living in a castle! It seemed too marvelous even to believe. And it would be her home – hers and Quinn's. They could decorate however they wanted, make it a real home. And the two of them would live there forever. Raise their own children and grandchildren. And they would never have to return to dirty, smelly London again unless they wanted to.

And Finn couldn't hurt them there.

Quinn had told her to take only what she needed and so very few of her belongings were missing from their usual places. A brush, some face cream, lavender water, a few ribbons, and a bit of jewelry were all that she had taken from the vanity.

Her trunk held enough undergarments and dresses to last her a week or a few days more before they would need to be laundered. Rachel had packed the most travel-ready garments she owned – things that wouldn't wrinkle easily or need much attention, as she wouldn't have a maid to take care of such things on the journey. She wanted desperately to take her pale blue satin gown to married in, but it would be a wrinkled mess by the time they reached Scotland, and she would rather marry Quinn in pale rose velvet than a gown of creases.

Rachel glanced at the clock on the mantel. Only fifty-five minutes left to wait.

Moving to the armoire against the far wall, Rachel pulled a few more gowns from it and two pairs of heavier stockings – just in case Scotland was cool in the summer. It occurred to her that she knew relatively nothing of Quinn's homeland – only that it was beautiful and that she loved it.

Rachel was certain that she would love it as well. How could she not when it meant so much to Quinn?

Forty-five minutes.

Closing the lid on her trunk, Rachel sighed. There was nothing more she could do. She had check and rechecked everything. Now all she could do was sit and wait for Quinn to come get her.

She tossed a cloak and a bonnet on top of the trunk once she had locked it and strode to the window. Luckily, her room overlooked the quiet street where they lived. Her parents' rooms were on the opposite end of the house, so when Quinn appeared on the street below, Rachel would easily sneak down and let her in. Then they could collect her trunk and the two of them would be on their way. It would be morning before her parents – or Finn – even realized she was missing. And by then, she and Quinn would easily have and eight to ten hour head start.

Curling up on the window seat, Rachel leaned her head against the glass and stared at the street below. And waited.

Forty-two minutes…

Forty-one minutes…

Forty minutes…

"You wouldn't dare hurt her." Even as she said the words, Quinn pulled against the chain that held her captive like a wild animal.

Finn smiled. It was a sure, confident expression. Of course he could look confident – he wasn't the one chained to a wall.

"You don't think so? Rachel's a lovely girl, but she doesn't mean as much to me as she obviously does to you." He took a step closer – still not enough to put him within Quinn's reach. "The question is, does she mean more to you than our father's title and fortune?"

Quinn glared at him in enraged silence. Finn laughed. "I see by that murderous gleam in your eye that she does."

Murderous didn't even begin to describe how Quinn felt. "You can't actually expect to get away with this."

Finn smiled. Oh, how Quinn would love to wipe that smile right off his smug face! "Of course I do. No one will question me, and as you will be safe and sound back in your crumbling ruin of a castle, no one will suspect that I've manipulated you in any way. And since you're not very likely to return to England – especially once I've married the girl you love – everyone will assume you've gone back to the Highlands to hand your head in shame. It's perfect."

Quinn's leg was beginning to ache from tugging on the chain. "Rachel will never marry you. She loves me."

Her brother's amused expression never faltered. "How do you suppose she will feel when you don't show up tonight?"

Quinn froze.

"Oh yes. I know what the two of you had planned." His voice was smug. "I saw you in the library the other night. It was pure chance, I assure you. The library is where I always go to be alone. That seems to be the one thing you and I have in common. Except that I went there to think and you went there to kiss my betrothed."

"If you were there, then you know she has no intention of marrying you." Quinn's mind was whirling. Had Finn also overheard her tell Rachel to go to Bow Street? Had he overheard their plans?

Finn frowned. "She said that?"

Quinn almost sighed in relief. Finn hadn't heard that part of their conversation. He would have said something by now if he had.

"Well," Finn continued, "it hardly matters what she wants. Rachel will have no choice but to marry me once you're out of the picture. Her mother certainly won't allow her to jilt a duke."

"Our father would be disgusted by what you're doing," Quinn informed him with a sneer. If she couldn't bait her brother with the loss of Rachel's affections, then she would strike where she knew she could inflict some damage.

The bait worked. Finn took a step closer, his face taut with anger. "He would not! I wasn't the one he was too ashamed of even to tell his family about!"

The insult stung, but Quinn ignored it. "Really? That's funny. Not too long ago you told me how you always felt as though you were being held up against an invisible rival – me. He was proud of me and you know it, just as you know that you never quite measured up against me."

Finn took another step, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I was wrong. He loved me. He loved me more than you. He couldn't even stand the sight of you! That's why he left you and your mother!"

Now it was Quinn who smiled. "That's not what he told me in the letter he left me. In fact, he told me how much he always thought of me, how much he loved me right up until the end. What did he say in the letter he left you?"

Quinn knew full well there had been no letter. Her brother had been fortunate enough to be with their father when he died. He had been fortunate enough to have an entire life with him. Quinn hadn't, but she hoped that Finn was angry enough, insane enough not to think of it that way. The letter was just one more thing Quinn had gotten that Finn hadn't.

Her plan worked. Snarling, Finn threw himself at her, and Quinn, being more agile and stronger, caught her younger brother by the jacket, slamming her fist into his face before he even had a chance to realize what happened.

Finn's head snapped back like a rag doll's. "Give me the key for this chain," Quinn demanded, drawing back her arm for another punch. She was tempted to hit her brother again anyway as payback for the beating his thugs had given her.

Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of a very shaky pistol. "Let go of me," Finn demanded in a voice that shook almost as much as his hand holding the gun.

Quinn did. She released her grip on her brother's coat without protest, stepping back with her hands up where Finn could see them. She seriously doubted her brother could shoot her in cold blood, but she didn't want to provoke him. Finn was mad, and his insanity made his behavior impossible to predict.

"Put the pistol down." How she managed to keep her voice level, she wasn't sure.

To her surprise, Finn did lower the gun. "Don't try that again," he warned, wiping blood away from his cut lip with the back of his hand. "Next time I'll shoot you, sister or not."

Quinn nodded. She was lucky her brother didn't shoot her anyway. It would be very easy for him to make it look like the work of thieves, and then Finn would inherit the title easily. But perhaps her brother suspected that Rachel knew enough about his actions that Quinn's death wouldn't look like an accident. Finn was too smart to risk it, but that didn't mean he wouldn't lose his head and shoot Quinn out of a jealous rage either.

"This all could have been avoided if you had just stayed in Scotland where you belonged, you know."

Quinn didn't think that would have made any difference at all. Chumley still would have known of her existence.

She tried to reason with her brother. "Finn, if it's the money you need, I will pay off your debts."

Finn laughed, a dry brittle sound. "It's not just the money, sister. I want what's rightfully mine. I want the title, I want my fiancé, and I want to pretend you were never born!"

Quinn flinched under the full force of Finn's hatred. She would not be able to reason with him. Her brother was too far gone to listen to anything she had to say.

"Short of killing me, I don't know how you can make that happen." The moment she spoke, Quinn regretted the words. She didn't want to give him any ideas.

Finn reached inside his coat and pulled out several folded sheets of paper. Keeping the pistol leveled squarely on Quinn's chest, he set the paper on a nearby table where a quill and ink sat waiting.

He gestured to the table with the gun. "Come here. I have some writing for you to do."

Slowly, so as not to make any sudden moves that might alarm her brother and cause him to shoot, Quinn inched toward the table. Her chain just barely allowed her to reach.

"What am I to write?" she asked, loosening the lid on the ink.

"They are letters naming me the rightful heir and a letter to Rachel explaining why you left her."

Quinn looked up, meeting her brother's gaze evenly. "And what is my reason for leaving her?"

Finn smile. "You've decided you are not ready for marriage. You've realized you don't truly love her after all. You're sorry, but you're already betrothed to someone in Scotland."

Those are an awful lot of reasons, Quinn thought. And not one of them was one Rachel would believe. Were they? Lord only knew what the brunette thought when Quinn hadn't shown up for her earlier. She was no doubt sick with worry or irate – or both.

"She won't believe it."

Finn sighed. "We've already had this discussion. Stop stalling." He lifted the gun. "Write."

Quinn turned her attention back to the blank paper. She couldn't believe a title could mean so much to someone that he would ruin so many lives – and risk ruining his own – just to obtain it. In a way, she almost felt sorry for Finn for thinking the dukedom was so important. His obsession with it was obviously because it was all he felt he had left of their father. The poor fool. Even Quinn knew their father well enough now to know that he had left all of his children so many other ways to remember and honor him.

But even though she knew it, Quinn didn't want to give the title up so easily either. It was rightfully hers. The money would repair her home and feed her people. And she certainly wasn't about to write anything stating that her father had never legally married her mother, not when it was a blatant lie.

But Finn stood not far away, waving the pistol like a man itching to use it, and Quinn had little choice. Dipping her quill in the ink, she tapped it to shake off the excess and then set it to the paper.

Her brother told her what to write. Quinn admitted with a sensation of dread that Finn knew how to phrase things as Quinn herself would have. No one who read these letters would doubt that Quinn was indeed the author – especially when the handwriting was clearly hers.

How then was she going to make them realize – make Rachel realize – that none of it was true?

The answer came to her in a flash, and with a flourish, she signed the papers, hoping her brother wouldn't notice her error until Quinn could make her escape and perhaps even get back to Rachel.

Her brother looked as please as a cat in cream when all the papers were signed. He snatched them out of Quinn's hand and after a quick scan, slid the papers back inside his coat.

"I'll be on my way now, sister," Finn remarked with a broad grin. "I must go home and get a good night's sleep. I'll have a heartbroken fiancé to console in the morning." He backed toward the door, keeping the pistol trained on Quinn's chest as he moved.

Quinn remained silent, but inside she was seething with anger. She was also feeling a little smug herself. Her ruse would buy her some time at least. By the time her brother realized the mistake with her signature, Quinn would hopefully be free. If nothing else, Rachel would notice the mistake and know that Finn held Quinn prisoner. If she went to Bow Street as Quinn had instructed her, they would be able to put a stop to Finn's vile plans.

Or so she hoped.

The bright gold of early morning glowed behind Rachel's eyelids. With a moan, she rubbed the sleep away with the back of her fists and squinted against the brightness shining through the window. The same window where she had spent the night waiting for Quinn to come for her.

Rachel grew cold despite the warmth of the sun. Quinn hadn't come.

She had sat by the window for hours, watching the street for the sight of her. With every minute past midnight, Rachel had grown more and more anxious, until finally she thought she might scream. Then the anxiety gave way to dread and finally to depression. Still, she hadn't given up the hope that Quinn might yet come. She had fallen asleep waiting.

What had happened? Where was she? It wasn't like her not to show up and not send word.

Perhaps she had sent word. Stiffly, Rachel rose to her feet, groaning as her muscles protested the movement. The window seat was not the most comfortable of places to fall asleep.

She splashed some water on her face from the washbasin in the corning, and after patting her cheeks dry with a towel, she smoothed her hands over her hair and gown and left her room, shutting the door behind her so no one would see the packed trunk on her bed. She would have to hide it before her maid came later that morning.

She flew down the stairs as though a pack of wild dogs was hot on her heels. She had to see if Quinn had sent her a note, anything that might explain why she was still Miss Berry and not on her way becoming the Duchess of Brahm or Lady Keir, whichever title Quinn chose to use once they were wed.

"Are there any messages for me?" she demanded of the footman when she skidded to a halt in the foyer.

If he was surprised by her lack of manners, he didn't let on. "No, miss, but then the post won't arrive for several hours yet."

Numb, Rachel nodded and muttered her thanks. No messages. Why had Quinn not sent a message?

The sound of the door knocker set her heart pounding. It was Quinn, she knew it! She had come to tell her what had happened and to reschedule their departure, Rachel was sure of it!

Her heart plummeted when the door opened to reveal Finn. What was he doing there at such an early hour? It was much, much too early in the morning to be paying a social call.

He smiled when he saw her. "Rachel, my dear, you look decidedly unhappy to see me. Were you expecting someone else?" His voice took on the slightest edge when he spoke – enough to make Rachel narrow her eyes as she stared at him.

"As a matter of fact, I was," she replied, tired of playing games with him.

He made a tsking sound with his tongue. "I'm afraid she's not coming."

Rachel's heart lurched. Apparently Finn was tired of playing games as well. "What do you mean?"

Still smiling, Finn moved toward her. "Let us take this conversation somewhere a bit more private, shall we?" He brushed past her, down the hall toward the drawing room. Rachel had no choice but to follow. The nerve of him, treating her like an inferior in her own home!

"Close the door," he instructed once she stepped inside the room.

Fuming, Rachel did so. Then she turned on him, her arms folded across her chest. "What's going on, Finn?"

His smile wasn't quite so bright now. "I could ask you the same thing, my dear. After all, you're the one who's been playing me for a fool for several days now."

Rachel cocked a brow. "But you made it so easy." Stop it, Rachel, stop it! You don't know how unstable he is, and you're all alone with him. Don't antagonize him until you know where Quinn is.

To her surprise, Finn laughed. "I did, didn't I? Well, I'm done with that now."

Locking her knees to keep them from trembling, Rachel lifted her chin. "You said Quinn wasn't coming. I take that to mean you were aware of our plans."

"To run away?" At her nod, he continued, "Yes, I heard enough to put the pieces together when I spied the two of you in the library the other day. You really should be more careful whom you kiss, Rachel. You never know who might be looking."

An angry flush crept up her cheeks. "Or in this case, 'what' might be watching."

He pursed his lips in a mock flinch. "I didn't know you could be quite so…abrasive, my dear. I will have to cure you of that once we're married."

Rachel started. He still wanted to marry her? What on earth for? "I'm not going to marry you."

He smiled. "Yes, you are."

Ignoring that taunt, Rachel tilted her head. "Where's Quinn?"

Finn sauntered over to the mantel and propped one elbow on it. He regarded her as though she were an unruly child. "She will soon be on her way back to Scotland."

Rachel lifted her chin defiantly. "I don't believe you."

Still smiling – Lord, how she was beginning to hate that smile! – Finn reached inside his coat and withdrew some papers. Unfolding them, he slipped one off the top and handed it to her. "See for yourself."

Coming no closer than she had to, Rachel snatched the paper out of his hand and backed away until she felt there was a safe distance between them. That safe distance put her near the fireplace, where a poker sat within reach should she need a weapon. Only then did she read what he had given her.

My Dear Rachel:

By now you've realized that I'm not coming to meet you as planned. In fact, by the time you read this, I will be preparing to return to Scotland. I think too much of you to continue on with this charade. I am not the Duchess of Brahm. Finn was correct in his suspicions. I wanted the title and the money – and your dowry – to repair my home, but I cannot ruin so many lives just to benefit my own. I am already betrothed to someone back home, and honor will not allow me to treat her as shabbily as my father treated my mother. I hope you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive my deception. I'm sorry to have misled you so. I never meant to hurt you or come between you and Finn. He is the one who can give you the kind of life you deserve. I wish you much happiness and hope in time you will remember me with fondness.

Yours truly,

Quinn Pierce

Rachel stared at the paper. Already betrothed? But she said she loved her! How could she…

No, Quinn said she adored her, and there was a huge difference between that and love. Still, it was all too convenient. Too convenient for the one who stood to gain everything with Quinn out of the way.

She lifted her head, anger pooling deep within her. "You made her write this."

Finn shrugged. "If it makes you feel better to think that, then I won't try to stop you. But does that letter read like it was written by someone who was forced?"

He gazed at her expectantly and Rachel realized he wasn't going to continue until she answered him. "It reads like she wrote what someone told her to."

Finn made a tsking sound as he shook his head. The look he gave her was one of pity. She was tempted to grab that poker and hit him with it.

"My dear Rachel, I'm sorry to have to be the one to deliver this heartbreak, but you know was well as I do that Quinn wanted you only for your dowry."

Rachel shook with rage. "You lie."

Raising a brow, Finn eyed her knowingly. "Do I? Surely she's mentioned the sorry state of her ancestral home? I have it on good authority that she's been trying to restore it to its former glory for some time. With your dowry she would have been able to do that."

"She could have done it with her inheritance," Rachel replied. She knew all about Quinn's hopes for her castle. She had told her. Finn wasn't going to make Rachel doubt her, not like this.

"Rachel," he chided softly, as though she were a small child and not a young woman. "It would take a lot more money than what my father left her to fix that moldering pile of stone."

Rachel didn't respond. She wasn't listening to this. She wouldn't!

Finn kept going, as though he sensed her hesitation. "You didn't really believe Quinn had fallen in love with you, did you?"

She fought to keep her expression blank, but she couldn't stop the blush that crept up her cheeks. She had believed it – she had wanted to believe it. She still did, but Finn had played on her self-doubt and made her question Quinn's motives.

Finn smiled sympathetically, as though he could see the direction of her thoughts. "Rachel, she has known you only a few weeks. How could she possibly love you? She doesn't even know you." He stepped closer. "Not like I know you. Not like I love you."

After all these months, now Finn chose to tell her he loved her? It was much, much too late for that. He was the wrong person.

But Finn was the one standing before her saying the right words, not Quinn.

Rachel's heart felt as though it might break. "What do you want, Finn?"

Folding his hands in front of him, he met her gaze with eyes that looked surprisingly sincere. "I want you to marry me as we planned."

He what?

"Why?" she demanded, asking the question she had been wanting to ask ever since he first proposed all those months ago. "Why do you want to marry me? You have everything."

Again he moved toward her and this time Rachel took a step back. She had the overwhelming fear that he was going to touch her. She would scream if he touched her.

Wisely, Finn didn't come any closer. "I just told you. I love you."

"I don't believe you." This was too easy. Too smooth. Finn couldn't fool her with his manipulation anymore. She didn't know if Quinn loved her or not, but she knew for a fact that Finn didn't.

Another sympathetic smile. How she wanted to wipe that pitying look right off his face. "Rachel, I understand how upset you must be—"

"You don't understand anything."

He nodded. "Why don't I just leave you to sort this out for yourself?" He reached out to touch her cheek, but she jerked away.

He let his arm drop with a sorrowful expression. What a good actor he was. He almost had her believing he actually felt badly for her – that he felt anything for her.

"You let me know when you've reached your decision."

Rachel remained silent as he turned and walked across the carpet to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, and turned to face her again.

"I love you, Rachel," he told her. "And I know you will make the right choice."

He waited, as though he thought she might give him her answer right then.

"Good day, Finn." Her tone was so cold, even she shivered at the sound of it.

She heard Finn sigh as he walked out the door. As soon as the latch clicked shut behind him, Rachel sank down onto the nearest sofa and pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.

Was it true? What was real and what wasn't? Had Quinn actually left her or was something foul afoot? As sincere as Finn sounded, she couldn't shake the feeling that he had been acting.

She didn't want to look at the paper in her hand, but something deep within her told her she had to. Yes, Finn had made her doubt Quinn in her mind, but her heart insisted that Quinn loved her as Rachel loved her, that all was not as it seemed. And all she had to support her suspicions was the letter in her hand.

She read the words again. The handwriting and the signature were definitely Quinn's – feminine and steady. Even the tone of the letter sounded as though she could have written it. But Rachel couldn't believe that the blonde would cast her aside so easily. No, there had to be another explanation. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.

Quinn referred to a girl "back home." Usually when Quinn spoke of "home" she called it Glenshea. It was out of character for her not to refer to it by name, but it was hardly proof that she had been forced to write the letter.

Her gaze fell upon the signature. Quinn Pierce.

That was it! Heart hammering, Rachel checked one more time just to make certain her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Sure enough, there it was. Quinn Pierce.

Quinn's last name was Fabray, not Pierce. She had taken her mother's name as part of her inheritance of her family's title. She remembered Quinn explaining it shortly after they had first met.

Quinn did not write this letter. Oh, she might have penned it, but someone else had told her what to write, obviously under the threat of some kind of harm. No doubt, Finn was the one who had threatened her. And of course Finn wouldn't notice that his sister had signed the wrong name. Quinn was technically a Pierce after all.

Which led her to wonder just what Finn had done with his sister. Was he holding her somewhere? Was she hurt? Was she…was she dead? No, Rachel wouldn't let herself think that. She would know if Quinn were dead, wouldn't she? Somehow, she thought she would feel it, deep down inside, she would know if Quinn was gone from her forever.

Rachel had to save her. She had to find Quinn and she had to make Finn believe his plan had worked. He was much more likely to make a mistake if he was feeling overly confident, and he was less likely to do something desperate – something even more desperate than what he had already done – for the same reason.

Hurrying across the room to the small desk in the corner, Rachel pulled out a piece of parchment and hurriedly scribbled a very brief note to Finn. Lud, but she hoped she was doing the right thing!

Finn—

You were right about everything. I've made my decision.

Yes I will marry you. The sooner the better.

She sent a footman off to Brahm House with it posthaste. With any luck, Finn wouldn't receive it until later that day, but even so it didn't give her much time.

She had to find Quinn. And she had to do it before she married Quinn's brother.

"Mama, I need you to come to Bow Street with me."

Shelby looked up from her breakfast with a mixture of surprise and horror. "Bow Street? Dear heavens, what has happened?"

Briefly, she told her mother about Finn's visit and the letter he had shown her.

"Of course I'll come with you," her mother replied, pushing her chair away from the table. "Just let me fetch my cloak."

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were in the carriage on their way to Bow Street. Rachel had the letter Quinn found in Finn's room, along with the letter Finn had given her in her reticule. She clutched the tiny purse as thought it was all she had in the world.

Traffic was light at that hour of the morning and the drive to Bow Street's law office was shorter than normal. Just to be certain they weren't being followed, Shelby had the driver drop them off down the street from their destination. It was easy for the two of them to lose themselves in the crowd weaving in and out along the sidewalk. Rachel didn't think it would have occurred to someone as conceited as Finn to follow them, but she would rather be safe than sorry.

Finally, they reached the Bow Street offices. Rachel let her mother lead the way inside, where officers and criminals already swarmed like bees around summer flowers. How were they ever going to find someone to listen to them in all this clatter and noise?

Rachel had underestimated the power of her mother's dramatic nature. The woman knew how to raise a fuss that could wake the dead. Within minutes, they were in a private room with an officer, or "Runner" as they were called, giving them his full attention.

"Now," the officer, whose names was Bowles, told them. "What can I do to help you ladies?"

"I fear the life of a peer of the realm might be in danger," Rachel replied.

Bowles' expression immediately lost its lightheartedness. "And who might that be?"

Rachel drew a deep breath. "The Duchess of Brahm." She told him the entire story, beginning with how Quinn's father had kept her a secret and ending with Finn's visit to her that morning. She left nothing out, not even the fact that she and Quinn had planned to run away together. Her mother looked shocked, but said nothing. No doubt Rachel would hear everything she had to say on the subject when they returned home later that morning.

By the time the Runner was through asking her questions and getting her to repeat things, Rachel was exhausted, but her spirits were lifted by the fact that the Runner seemed to think they would be able to find Quinn just by having someone follow Finn. He kept the letters as evidence and gave Rachel a card with his name on it, should she need anything or if anything else should happen.

"I think it's a wise idea for you to pretend to go along with this Pierce fellow," Bowles told her. "We don't want anyone getting hurt, especially you. If he thinks everything is going the way he wants it, then he's more likely to be relaxed, overconfident even, and that's when we will nab him."

Rachel managed a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Bowles. I appreciate everything you can do for us."

Bowles nodded. "I don't think I have to remind you not to tell anyone else about this, do I?"

Rachel shook her head, as did her mother. "No, sir. We won't say a word."

"Good. Now, I want you to go home and get some rest. I will be in touch as soon as I have any news for you."

And with that, they were dismissed.

As they stepped outside, her mother gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. "It will be all right, darling. You'll see."

Rachel hoped her mother was right, because if she wasn't, then Rachel could very well end up married to a man she despised while the woman she loved was lost to her forever.

A/N: Oooo, will they reach Quinn in time before something happens to her? Will Finn become wise to Rachel's ruse and do something even more drastic? Find out next time (that hopefully won't take 6 months to write, lol)!

I hope you guys liked this chapter! :)

Oh, addendum! If any of you haven't seen Frozen, you need to. Like, now. Even if you don't like Disney movies or musicals. That movie is phenomenal. And the songs - wow. I have the soundtrack playing in my car, like non-stop lol! Anywhoozle...that's all. I hope you guys liked the new chapter, and I'm so sorry again for the looooooong hiatus - it was unintentional, I swear! :)

K, bye!