by Rose Pearson
“Thank you,” he murmured, turning the note over and seeing the wax seal there. Not quite certain who it belonged to, be broke the wax quickly and opened up the note.
A stifled gasp came from his mouth as he read the words over and over again, hardly able to take in the dreadful news. Even as he read the words, he felt his heart begin to pound furiously with a deep and fearful dread that swept all through him, right into his very bones.
“Goodness, Lowell!” Lady Rutledge exclaimed as he set the note on the table and stared at her in horror. “Whatever is the matter?”
Oliver blew out a long breath and shook his head. “I must go to her at once.”
“Go to whom?” Lady Rutledge insisted, now looking quite alarmed. “What is wrong, Lowell?”
Staring at his cousin as though he could not quite see her, Oliver let out a long breath and tried to compose himself. “It is Lady Georgiana,” he told her, his voice a little hoarse. “She went for a short carriage ride with Lord Poole yesterday afternoon and...” He saw his cousin’s eyebrows lifting and knew precisely what she was thinking. “She has not returned. I know you will think she has eloped or some such thing, but there was no reason for her to do that. She and Lord Poole were already engaged.”
Lady Rutledge frowned. “She cannot have gone too far,” she said cautiously. “The snow has been falling overnight, and now the streets are almost impassible with the sheer amount of it.” Gesturing to the window, she watched Oliver with interest. “But why should such a thing concern you? Lady Georgiana was an acquaintance only.”
Oliver shook his head, rising from his chair. “I care for Lady Georgiana,” he said bluntly, as Lady Rutledge’s eyes flared wide. “I have offered to marry her and to take her back to Boston with me, but she is afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Lady Rutledge asked, looking a little pleased at Oliver’s announcement. “Afraid of beginning her life all over again in America? That is something I can well understand.”
Shaking his head again, Oliver began to pace up and down the room, his hand at his chin. “She never mentioned that, although I would expect there to be some trepidation. No, she was afraid of...Lord Poole.” His eyes flicked towards Lady Rutledge, who now looked upset. “Her betrothed, I believe, had threatened her. Threatened to spread rumors and the like about both myself and you or Lord Rutledge, should she be seen in my company.”
“But that is monstrous!” Lady Rutledge exclaimed, clearly horrified. “Why should he demand such a thing as that?”
Oliver did not immediately answer, leaving Lady Rutledge to come to her own conclusions. Sighing, he rubbed one hand down his face, coming to a stop and looking at his cousin with a furrowed brow.
“I must go to Lady Allerton,” he said quietly. “I must go and speak to her. Surely there is something that can be done in order to find and protect Lady Georgiana.”
Lady Rutledge, who had gone a little pale, nodded fervently but said nothing. Oliver wisely went to ring the bell for tea, fearing the shock of hearing such a threat might overcome her.
“You will not mind if I take my leave now?” he asked a little quietly. “Lord Rutledge is at home, is he not?”
Lady Rutledge gave herself a slight shake, looking up at Oliver with a determined expression. “Yes, yes he is,” she said with a good deal more force than before. “And you must not worry about me. The threat of rumors is not something that I shall shy away from.”
“But they could do you a great deal of harm,” Oliver answered gravely. “Surely you must know that.”
“I do,” Lady Rutledge answered firmly, “but I will not allow anyone to blackmail either you or Lady Georgiana in such a terrible manner. How odious a gentleman Lord Poole must be!”
Oliver, who had been thinking the same thing for quite some time, could only agree. He pressed his cousin’s shoulder for a moment and then hurried from the room. He had only one intention now. Find Lady Georgiana before it was too late.
* * *
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Lowell.”
Lady Allerton grasped Oliver’s hands the moment he came into the room. Lord Allerton rose and immediately handed Oliver a brandy, his face quite pinched.
“At once, of course,” Oliver replied firmly, searching Lady Allerton’s face. “I presume Lady Georgiana has not been found?”
Lady Allerton shook her head and glanced hopelessly back at her husband.
“We do not know where she or Lord Poole are gone,” Lord Allerton grated. “Lady Allerton spoke to me of what had gone between herself and Georgiana before Georgiana went out with Lord Poole. I believe Lord Poole knew that Lady Georgiana would, at some point, seek to break off her engagement, although she had not come to such a decision herself at that time.”
Something like hope fired straight through Oliver’s soul. “She wanted to bring things to an end?” he asked as Lady Allerton nodded. “I am glad to hear it.”
“I believe she had discovered happiness with someone other than Lord Poole,” Lady Allerton answered softly, looking at him with a direct gaze. “But she was afraid of the consequences.”
Oliver sank into a chair, his stomach knotting. “The threats.”
“Indeed,” Lord Allerton muttered, looking sorrowfully towards his wife as if seeking her forgiveness. “I confess, I thought I had done well in choosing Lord Poole for my sister. From what I knew of him, he was quiet and reserved, but I never once thought him so...sinister.”
“It is not your fault, Allerton,” his wife murmured whilst Oliver nodded fervently in agreement. “All we need to concentrate on is finding Georgiana.”
Lord Allerton nodded, his jaw tightening as a vein began to throb in his forehead. “There will be a scandal,” he said hoarsely. “Whatever will we do?”
Lady Allerton glanced towards Oliver, a knowing look in her eyes—and it was all Oliver could do not to speak. She gave him the tiniest of smiles before pressing her husband’s arm.
“It will be quite all right, my dear,” she whispered as Lord Allerton closed his eyes in evident frustration. “I am quite sure it will work out for the best. There may not even be a scandal if we find her quickly enough.”
Oliver took a small step forward. “I know that rumors can spread quickly,” he said, well aware of how difficult London society could be. “But no one aside from the three of us and my cousin know she is gone.”
“We will not be able to hide it for long,” Lord Allerton muttered. “Georgiana’s maid is aware of her absence, but I have absolute certainty she will keep such a thing to herself.” He grimaced, making Oliver wonder what it was Lord Allerton had said to have such an assurance. “I do not even know where to begin to look.”
Oliver rubbed at his forehead, frowning hard. “Lord Poole’s residence?” he suggested as Lord Allerton shook his head. “You have looked there already.”
“I called earlier,” Lord Allerton said with a heavy sigh. “Lord Poole has gone back to his estate.”
“But he cannot have done so,” Oliver said at once, confused. “The snow has fallen heavily overnight, and my cousin has said that—”
“You are quite right,” Lady Allerton said interrupting him. “We do not believe he has left London. Although why he has taken Georgiana, I cannot imagine. Why not let her cry off? Why not accept the match would not work?”
“Because,” Oliver said grimly, recalling how upset Lady Georgiana had been and knowing how afraid she had become of the gentleman, “because he is a man used to getting what he desires. He would not accept the shame or the embarrassment of her crying off, so the only way to prevent it—”
“Is to force her into wedlock.”
Lord Allerton went very pale indeed, and for a moment, Oliver thought he might stumble forward in shock. His own stomach twisted hard, feeling sick at the thought of what might happen to Lady Georgiana at the hand of Lord Poole.
“We must find her,” Lady Allerton said, sounding all the more desperate. “But where are we to look?”
Oliver shook his head to himself, trying his best to think of what to suggest. Try as he might, he could think of nowhere to begin. He did not know London well enough to think of where Lord Poole might have taken her.
“Did she ever say anything to you, Alice?” he heard Lord Allerton say, speaking directly to his wife. “Did she ever mention somewhere that Lord Poole had taken her to, or wished to take her to visit?”
Oliver’s head snapped up, his whole being jolted with a sudden shock. “I do remember something,” he said hurriedly, looking at Lord Allerton. “It might well be nothing of consequence, but Lady Georgiana did tell me that Lord Poole has a brother here in London.”
There was a second or two of silence before both Lord Allerton and Lady Allerton began to speak. Their questions were much the same, however, and Oliver was able to answer them both.
“Lady Georgiana did not tell me the name of this brother, no,” he said a little frustrated. “Perhaps she didn’t know. All I can remember is she said Lord Poole’s brother resided in London also.”
Lord Allerton bit his lip and looked to his wife. “We must discover him,” he said as Lady Allerton nodded quickly, her hands now grasping those of her husband. “If Georgiana is not there, then this brother might well provide an answer as to the whereabouts of Lord Poole.”
Despite having remembered something that could now provide at least the beginnings of an answer as to Lady Georgiana’s whereabouts, Oliver felt useless. He did not know what he should do or where he should go, looking from one to the other expectantly.
“I will go to call upon Lady Winters,” Lady Allerton was saying. “She may well know who this gentleman is.”
“And I will go to Whites,” Lord Allerton said with a nod. “Someone surely must know something.” Wincing, he looked at Oliver. “Although given I did not know the man’s true character, I wonder if I ever really knew him at all.”
Trying to smile in sympathy, Oliver lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “And what shall I do?” he asked, spreading his hands. “I don’t know London very well, and I certainly have very little idea as to who to ask, but I should like to do something.”
Lord Allerton glanced at his wife, a look of uncertainty in his eyes.
“Might you wait here?” Lady Allerton suggested, looking back at him with a sudden sharpness in her gaze. “If Lord Poole should send word—or if something should occur—it would be best if someone was here.”
“I could not ask you to go to Whites in my place, for example,” Lord Allerton added with a slightly rueful smile. “And Lady Allerton could not bring you to Lady Winters.”
Oliver nodded, trying to get rid of the feeling he was being more than useless. “Of course,” he agreed, wishing there was something more to do. “I would be glad to wait.”
“And I shall have the butler bring you any correspondence,” Lady Allerton finished, already making for the door. “Just in case it is from Lord Poole.”
“Thank you,” Oliver answered as Lord Allerton followed after his wife. “I will wait here for your return and pray you have found some answer.”
There came no reply for, as his words floated across the room, Lord Allerton shut the door tightly behind him, leaving Oliver standing entirely alone, feeling more inadequate than ever before.
* * *
“Nothing?”
Oliver stared at Lord Allerton and then turned his gaze to Lady Allerton, who was wearing the same look of misery as her husband. They had been gone for at least two hours, and he had done nothing but pace up and down the room and drink a little of Lord Allerton’s excellent French brandy. All the while, he had silently prayed that Lady Georgiana was quite safe, she was unharmed, and that Lord and Lady Allerton would find success in their ventures. Surely God would be looking down on them, especially at this time of year, he had thought, whilst knowing full well that such a thought was nothing more than foolishness.
And now, his heart felt as though it had been ripped from his chest and flung down to the floor, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in its place. Whilst they had been gone, Oliver had kept that faint hope alive, had been praying there would be something found that would bring them an answer, bring them something to go on—but to hear that there was nothing of use at all made him both upset and frustrated.
It seemed as though Lady Georgiana was to remain lost in the ether of London.
“Lady Winters knew nothing of Lord Poole,” Lady Allerton said, slumped in a chair as she gazed, unseeingly, at the fire that burned in the grate. “She knew his name, of course, but knew nothing of his family or anything of particular interest.”
“And neither did any gentleman I spoke to in Whites,” Lord Allerton muttered, looking entirely wretched. “There was not even the suggestion made as to who else I might think of asking!” Groaning aloud, he sat forward with his hands on his knees, raking his hands through his hair. “She is lost.”
Closing his eyes tightly, Oliver let out a long, slow breath, telling himself not to panic and certainly not to give way to fear. One thing was for certain—he would not even think about returning to America without first ensuring that Lady Georgiana was quite safe.
“Then surely the only thing we can do,” he began, slowly, his mind trying to find some answer to what was a seemingly impossible situation, “is to sit outside Lord Poole’s townhouse and watch for any comings and goings that might be out of the ordinary.”
Lord Allerton lifted his head, but no light shone in his eyes.
“There is nothing else we can do,” Oliver continued with a small shrug. “It is the only thing I can think of that might bring us even the smallest hope.”
Lady Allerton began to nod slowly, her eyes turning from Oliver to her husband. “Mr. Lowell is right,” she said quietly, her voice holding nothing but grief. “We must act, Allerton!”
Very slowly, Lord Allerton began to nod, beginning to unfold himself from his chair and looking up at Oliver. “And if we find nothing?”
Refusing to allow himself even to think about such a thing, Oliver shook his head. “We must hope that we find or see something,” he answered, knowing that to dwell on what he might not see would only bring his spirits lower. “I will go, of course. You are both exhausted and need to rest.” He heard both Lord and Lady Allerton begin to protest but held up his hands in quiet sternness. “I insist,” he said a little more loudly as he looked Lady Allerton in the eye. “You have both had quite enough for the time being; I can see it in both your faces. Rest, eat, and try to sleep if you can. I will return the moment I see anything.”
Lord Allerton let out a long, slow breath, but his expression grew firm. “No,” he answered decisively. “I will not let you sit out there alone. You may go first, Mr. Lowell, but once my wife and I have rested and eaten, we will join you.” He gave a small smile to his wife, who held his gaze. “I know that I could not sleep even if I tried.”
“Nor I,” Lady Allerton replied, looking towards Oliver. “You are being very kind, Mr. Lowell, and I know it is because you care for Georgiana. My gratitude is more than I can express.” She pressed one hand lightly to her forehead. “But you are right. I will need to rest for a time and mayhap…” A glance was sent towards her husband. “Mayhap you might join Mr. Lowell, Allerton. If there was to come a note or a messenger to the house and no one was here to receive it, then I would never forgive myself.”
Oliver swallowed a sudden ache in his throat, pushing away the fears that by the time he saw Lady Georgiana again, she would be so far from his reach, he might never have the chance to tell her the true depths of his affection. “I am sure we will find her,” he said with a confidence he did not quite feel. “Rest, Lady Allerton. And pray, for that is all I think we can do.”
* * *
Some hours later and Oliver felt as though his feet had turned to blocks of ice. The blankets wrapped around him had been a warm comfort to him within the first few hours, but as the night began to take a hold of London, the col
d had wrapped around his bones.
The hackney they had taken had done nothing other than sit a short distance away from Lord Poole’s townhouse. This part of London was rather busy, even this late at night, so no one would think anything of it—but both Oliver and then Lord Allerton’s eyes had been fixed solely on the front door that led to Lord Poole’s home. A footman, dressed in somewhat shabby clothes for the sole purpose of sneaking around to the servant’s entrance, had also been gone for some hours, meaning there was nothing of note to yet report.
And with each minute that passed, Oliver felt his spirits sinking lower.
Lord Poole had taken Lady Georgiana away somewhere, he was sure of it, simply so she would not be able to cry off and so he would not have to bear the shame or disgrace that came thereafter. What she wanted and what she needed were of little importance to him, it seemed. All he cared for was his contentment, and he did not care what he inflicted on others to get it.
Oliver could not imagine how Lord Allerton was feeling. He had expressed, on more than one occasion, just how wrong he had been about Lord Poole’s character, and Oliver had been required to reassure him that this was not his doing. But he could practically see Lord Allerton sinking lower and lower in spirit with every minute that passed.
“I do not know what I will do,” Lord Allerton muttered, clearly upset now. “When she returns home—for I must believe she will be returned—if she is unwed, then what shall I do?” His eyes lifted to Oliver’s face, his features shrouded in shadows, illuminated only by the flickering light from the lantern that hung on one side of the hackney. “She will not be sought out by any gentleman then, not when this has occurred.”
“The ton might not even know about this,” Oliver responded as reassuringly as he could. “If we find her soon, then the staff will say nothing, and her reputation will be protected.”
