by Erica Taylor
“They are lovely,” Clara breathed, looking to Sarah with affection.
“Fit for a duchess,” Sarah replied, leaning to her to buss her cheek. “Shall we be off?”
Clara nodded. “In a moment, if you please.”
Sarah nodded understandingly. “We will be downstairs. You are to go in the carriage, and Susanna and I are to follow separately.”
Once alone, Clara had a moment to think.
She was about to marry Andrew. Of all the scenarios she’d envisioned when she snuck away to the Macalister Birthday Ball, this, while at the highest point of her dream, was not one she would have bet on for herself.
She knew Andrew loved her, which was a feat in itself, though she still doubted whether his affections had any longevity. Was it irrational to want to wait longer?
A soft knock came from the door. It was Martha reminding her she was expected at the church soon.
Descending the stairs, Clara’s mind was racing. Not with anticipation or excitement, but dread. Was she about to make a huge mistake? Could she survive being married to a man who she was not certain she could trust?
More prudently, if she left, could she survive her brother on her own?
Sarah and Susanna awaited her in the front foyer, walking with her to the carriage.
“We will see you at the church, dear,” Sarah said, closing the carriage door as Clara settled herself into the front facing bench.
“We will see you there, correct?” Susanna asked as Sarah climbed into the second carriage.
With a determined nod, Clara managed a smile. “Yes, I will be there.”
Susanna beamed. “Enjoy your last few moments of not being a duchess,” she said cheekily.
The carriage rolled into motion, and Clara was careful not to rest her head against the back of the bench so not to mess her hair. Martha had spent so much time curling and pinning, it would be a shame to ruin it. But Clara’s eyes fluttered closed as the rocking of the carriage lulled her into relaxing, just a fraction. Everything would be fine. She would make certain her life with Andrew would be happy. She would make him happy. Her life over the past month by his side, as his fiancée, had not been miserable. There was no reason to expect her marriage would be anything different.
The carriage came to a stop, and Clara sighed. Time to put on her best smile and step into her new life. At least Andrew would be there.
But as she descended from the carriage, she realized it was all wrong. This was not St. George’s Church. She had no idea where this was, in fact.
Little bells of alarm rang in her head, and she looked back and forth and down the street. The street was frightening normal, though it looked vaguely familiar. Dark bricked home fronts with white framed windows and white stones lining the garden levels, all flanked by black iron fencing. Each house was pressed together in a long row, the bricking varying from house to house. Each street stretched out in a square, a garden park in the middle with bright green grass and tall trees.
The door to the house opened and a man stepped outside. For a brief moment, she stood frozen in shock as she recognized the face sneering down at her.
“I wouldn’t run, Clara,” Jonathan Masson drawled. “You will not get far in that dress. Do come inside. We’ve so much to discuss.”
Looking down again at both ends of the deserted street, Clara realized she was stuck. The carriage was gone. She had no idea where she was. The area looked well-kept, but she’d been in the carriage for a good fifteen minutes. She could be on the other side of the Thames for all she knew.
With the hope that Andrew would be able to find her, retrace her steps or send out Halcourt’s dogs, Clara moved up the front steps and through the doorway, leveling a haughty glare at her brother as she moved past him and into the house.
It was long past what was acceptable to be late to your own wedding.
Andrew knew this, not by a readily available timepiece, because there was none, but by the level of whispers and stirrings that went through the amassed crowd. His family was here, his Macalister aunts, uncles, and cousins as well as his mother’s Ralston relations. All had come to support, no matter what the outcome.
The remaining congregated guests, roughly a hundred or so at least, were here to see whether the bride or the bridegroom would fail to show.
As Andrew had been standing before the congregation waiting, it was clear he was not favored.
Where on earth is she? Andrew wondered. Luke was missing too, so that was something, as Luke had been tapped with guarding her until she arrived at the church. If Clara was not here, at least Luke was likely with her.
Andrew frowned as his thoughts strayed to worrisome territory. Were Clara and Luke together somewhere?
Preposterous, Andrew decided, but the feeling of unease did not lift. Something was wrong, he knew it in his bones. Clara should have been there, he believed she would show at the church. He had trusted her, again.
The doors opened, and Patrick stuck his head out, glancing around nervously before coming through the doors and down the aisle towards him.
Something was definitely wrong, and by the look on Patrick’s face, very wrong.
Hurrying down the aisle, he met the young man halfway.
“What is wrong?” Andrew asked, but Patrick shook his head, leading Andrew back out of the church.
“What has happened?” Andrew asked once they were out of the sanctuary.
“Clara’s missing,” Patrick said bluntly. “We don’t know where she is.”
Andrew swore as the blood rushed from his face. “How is that even possible?” Andrew asked. “Susanna said she saw her this morning.”
Patrick shook his head. “Their carriages left together, but only one arrived at the church, and that was nearly an hour ago.”
Andrew swore rather loudly as he ran a hand through his hair, fear turning his blood cold. She was supposed to be safe, he was supposed to keep her safe.
“What are we to do?” Patrick asked, his eyes darting to the room full of friends and family and inauspicious onlookers.
“Give me a moment,” Andrew said, knowing what he had to do. He’d done it once before, after all.
Stepping back into the sanctuary, a hush swept over the room. Speaking loudly, his voice carried over the pews, echoing off the walls before hitting him with the truth of the matter.
“I apologize for the delay,” Andrew announced. “There will be no wedding today.”
And he turned and fled the room before he was mobbed by, well, everyone.
Andrew ducked into the carriage outside the church doors, the one set to deliver him and Clara to their wedding breakfast, but it seemed that was not to happen now.
Clara was missing. She’s either been delayed by something, or worse, run off.
As soon as the carriage stopped before Bradstone House, Andrew had the carriage door open, jumping down from the footstep and hurrying into the house. Howards opened the door before Andrew got to the front stoop.
“Is Luke here?” Andrew shouted to his butler as he yanked his gloves off, tossing them and his hat angrily to his valet who came rushing into the hall to retrieve them.
“No, your grace,” Howards replied and Andrew cursed under his breath. “He has not been seen for at least an hour.”
“I saw him here at that time,” Bexley said, coming in the door after him, with Connolly and Halcourt. “Just before we left with you for the church.”
“I’ve sent word of her disappearance,” Halcourt said, cutting Andrew off with reassurances that he’d done it discreetly.
“I don’t need any more scandal,” Andrew said warily. “Clara does not need more scandal.”
Susanna and Sarah arrived just then, Norah a few footsteps behind them.
“She was in the carriage,” Susanna told Andrew before he would even ask. �
��She said she was going to the church. I believed her, Andrew. Something has happened. She would not leave you like this.”
Wouldn’t she? Andrew wondered, chastising himself for even thinking it. It was what she planned to do all along.
“She did not return, did she?” Sarah asked Howards and the butler shook his head.
“No, my lady,” Howards insisted. “Lady Clara left the house with you. Both carriages left the house, though one returned.”
“The carriage carrying Lady Clara, you say it has returned?” Halcourt asked, turning towards the butler.
Howards nodded.
“Allow me to check over the carriage, your grace,” Halcourt said, but did not stop for permission.
Andrew strode towards his study, his sisters and friends following, shooting worried glances between each other.
“Redley is out looking for Luke and Clara,” Bexley said as they came into the study. No one sat or went for brandy or really knew what to say or do.
Andrew paced the length of the room like a caged lion.
What if she’d actually left him? Would she have left a note? Taken things with her? Or simply disappeared into the dreary London day, never to be heard of again?
His heart clenched at the thought of losing her, of the idea she might have abandoned him and he sank into a plush leather chair.
I trusted her!
“Your grace,” came Halcourt’s voice as he entered the room, rather hurriedly. As Andrew looked up at one of his oldest friends, he saw a white paper, folded with a wax seal, pinched between Halcourt’s fingers. He was offering him the letter.
“This was on the carriage seat,” Halcourt replied. “Along with a coachman stuffed into the boot. Alive but concussed.”
Andrew snatched the letter, a shred of hope rushing through him. She wouldn’t leave without giving explanation.
But as he read through the lines on the paper, the tiny scrawl written was not Clara’s elegant loopy handwriting, but someone else’s.
“He’s taken her,” Andrew said quietly, his voice wracked with fear. “Morton, he says he has Clara. I am to pay him five thousand pounds if I want her returned.”
“Oh goodness,” Sarah said as Susanna gasped. “That is a great deal of money.”
“I will pay it,” Andrew stated, refolding the letter but Halcourt pulled it from his hands. “A horse, I need a horse. The banks will be open, will he take a bank note you think?”
He went to hurry from the room, his mind refocused on something productive. He knew where Clara was, or at least he knew what had happened. She hadn’t run off on him, she’d been abducted. In Andrew’s delirious state of mind, that was much better.
Halcourt saw reason and stopped Andrew in his tracks, planted his hands on Andrew’s chest and gave him a shove.
“Halcourt, unhand me!” Andrew snapped.
“Your grace, you need to listen to reason here,” Halcourt insisted. “This is not the way to go about this.”
“He has asked for money, I shall give it to him,” Andrew replied, attempting to step around Halcourt but Bexley walked into his path.
“Not like this, Andrew,” Bexley said, shaking his head.
“He has Clara,” Andrew insisted, glancing between his friends. “What is so complicated about this?”
Sarah stepped into his way next, each one of them making a barrier between him and the door.
“This is Clara we are talking about,” Andrew pleaded. “None of you understand, I cannot lose her.” He could not lose someone again.
Sarah set a hand on his arm gently. “Andrew, we have all come to love Clara as one of our own. Do not think we do not want her safely returned. But Lord Halcourt is correct. Paying this ridiculous ransom is not the way.”
“I would drain every penny to have her back,” Andrew replied. “How can you all not see this?”
“We know, Andrew,” Susanna said.
“I bet Morton knows it too,” Bexley added.
Andrew sank into the chair below him, running his hands through his hair. Damnation, they were all right. If he paid Morton off this time, who was to say he would not come back for another payment? He would not be blackmailed into saving the woman he loved. There had to be a smarter way to go about this.
“What do you suggest?” Andrew asked, his gaze falling on Halcourt.
The door opened just then, and Luke came bursting through the door, panting as if he had run the entire way.
“Luke!” Andrew shouted.
Luke launched into an explanation before Andrew could say another word. “I barely had my eyes off her for a second, Andrew. The carriage with Sarah and Susanna turned, and I did not realize the carriages had been separated until a few blocks had passed. I retraced our path but there was no sign of the carriage.”
“I trusted you!” Andrew bellowed at him, glaring. “I trusted you to keep her safe! You were supposed to watch her, and she was abducted! By Morton!”
“We will get her back,” Sarah was saying to him.
“I will send for the Runners,” Halcourt interjected. “And Lord Kensburg is searching the streets as well.”
“What about the friend of yours, the one who helped with the footman?” Andrew asked.
“He’s left town, I am afraid,” Halcourt replied, pulling on his gloves. “More’s the pity, missing fiancées with ransom demands are sort of a hobby of his. I will return within the hour.” Halcourt bowed and quickly left the room.
But within the hour there was knocking on the front door and it was not Halcourt, and it certainly was not Clara magically reappeared.
Howards strode hesitantly into the study. “Lady Radcliff, there are some ladies inquiring after Lady Clara. I’ve put them in the lilac drawing room. Should I send them away?”
Sarah exchanged a glance Susanna before they both rose.
“No, Howards, we will deal with them,” Sarah said.
“Make something up, Sarah,” Andrew wanted.
“I intended to,” Sarah replied.
“The nerve of those harpies, coming to inquire after Clara after she failed to show at the church,” Susanna clucked as they wove their way through the furniture in the study.
“I’m coming too,” Norah said rising from her seat. Sarah and Susanna glanced at her in surprise.
Norah’s nose lifted in defiance. “Despite what you might think, I do not hate Lady Clara. And she is to be my sister. At the very least, I can run interference where the nosy society ladies are concerned.”
“Thank you, Norah,” Andrew said. Norah managed a weak smile, still not fully recovered from her poisoning ten days earlier. Her complexion was pale and she seemed exhausted, but she was on her feet. That was saying something.
The morning hours turned towards the afternoon as the grandfather clock chimed twelve times for noon. A tray of sandwiches was sent in for the various occupants coming and going. Halcourt had returned with a stack of papers: everything he had on Morton, he informed. Andrew and Bexley began reading and sorting, trying to find a clue as to where Morton would have taken Clara.
Luke and Redley were in and out, snagging tea and sandwiches as they passed through the doors, both leaving to deal with Halcourt’s seedier contacts in the less polite parts of London.
Watching Luke converse with Halcourt before exiting the room, Redley at his heels, Andrew realized something.
“Luke works for you,” Andrew said to Halcourt.
His friend did not look up at him. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
“Be serious, Halcourt,” Andrew said. When Halcourt refused to look at him, Andrew shook his shoulder. “Jeremiah, you cannot lie to me about this. Does my brother work for you?”
Halcourt’s head snapped up, his gaze meeting Andrew’s. “I do not know what you are talking about,” he repeated wit
h a nod, before looking down again at the papers.
Andrew swore under his breath but knew it was not the time to dwell on Luke’s nefarious activities with Halcourt. One problem at a time.
Noon turned to one, then to two, then three o’clock in the afternoon chimed in the hall. A constant stream of women were in and out of the first floor drawing rooms, nosy and eager for information about Clara. So far, as best Andrew could tell, her abduction was not known throughout the ton, but her absences had been noted. Not only at the church earlier in the day, but now when she failed to appear. Some were calling her cowardly. Some assumed she’d already taken off out of town.
“Most of the gossip focuses on cold feet,” Sarah informed him, taking a momentary break from fending off the gossiping hordes. “Since you have not run off towards Scotland in pursuit, people have surmised she did not toss you over for someone else. Though that is the most preferred explanation.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” Andrew said. “For handling that aspect of this.”
Sarah shrugged. “It is no bother. I’d rather the ton had the facts straight this time instead of spinning stories to fit their own narrative.”
“And what have you told them?”
“That Clara was simply ill,” Sarah replied. “Norah was ill last week, so we’ve told everyone Clara unfortunately has caught the same malady but should recover soon. And is most eager to marry you once she is well.”
Andrew nodded and looked away from his sister.
Sarah stepped closer, squeezing his hand. “She is eager to marry you, Andrew. Just you wait and see.”
Andrew felt helpless. He had failed miserably, unable to keep her safe from her brother after all. And now, he was unable to do anything to help. Halcourt insisted he remain at Bradstone House in the event another note were to arrive, changing the demands.
Patrick arrived just after four in the afternoon, having done a search of Morton House in Mayfair, and also riding out to a closer estate, both to no avail.
