by Meara Platt
She licked her lips again. Looked at his crotch again. Then was gone.
All he felt was relief. However, no sooner had Callie left his side than his grandfather approached. “You brought Evangeline.” That was it, just three words, but they were laden with menace.
He wanted to curl his hands into fists and pummel the old man. “It seemed the right thing to do.”
“She ought to have known better than to accept a ride from you.”
“Why? You weren’t going to offer. She’s your granddaughter, yet you treat her worse than a pair of old boots. All she wants is for you to love her. She has only you and Desmond. She’d give you her heart if you opened up yours just a crack, but you’ll never do it. Your only desire is to control and manipulate. You treat her worse than the old rag that’s used to clean your old boots.”
“Don’t you talk to me that way. I’m still your grandfather.”
“As well as Evie’s and Desmond’s. Start acting like it. They’re your family, not some marionettes to be pulled by your strings.”
His grandfather’s eyes were now blazing and his hands, like Ewan’s, were flexing at his sides to fight the temptation to curl them into fists. “You’re quick to defend them, yet you haven’t any notion of their true natures. You’ve been here less than a month. What do you know about them? You haven’t experienced firsthand the extent of their greed.”
“What have they done to make you think they only covet your wealth?” He didn’t necessarily disagree with the statement, for he didn’t know his cousins at all, but the little he’d seen of them and of their home did not give him that impression.
He’d seen desolation, not avarice, in Evie’s eyes. Not that he was an expert with women. Quite the opposite, they confounded him at every turn. Lily especially. He still didn’t understand why his heart leapt into his throat and his blood turned fiery whenever he saw her. It just did.
He missed her, even though they’d only been apart a short while.
“You’ll find out for yourself,” his grandfather said, answering his question after a long moment’s pause. “They’ll pretend to like you, but don’t be fooled. They’ll hate you as they hate me. They blame me for the death of their father.”
“Do they have reason?”
“No. Damn you, Ewan. I loved my sons, both of them. I’m no monster.”
He’d humiliated Evie and banned Lily from the thing she loved most. If he wasn’t a monster, he came fairly close. But this wasn’t a discussion to be pursued amid a party. Though he and his grandfather were on their own in a corner, they were drawing notice. Ewan resolved to renew their conversation later at Lotheil Court.
Right now, he was eager to see Lily again. He’d find her with Evie and Meggie, no doubt putting both of them at ease, because it was her nature to calm and comfort. Not that he was ever comfortable around Lily. He wasn’t. But it was a good discomfort. A hot, melt-the-butter-on-your-biscuits desire that he always felt around her.
He noticed Callie walking in from the garden and felt her presence like a splash of cold water. Bollix. He’d forgotten about her, kept her waiting by the damned lilacs. He had no intention of taking her up on her offer of sex. She wasn’t remotely tempting.
Still, he shouldn’t have dismissed her from his thoughts the moment she’d walked away. An angry, ignored woman was always trouble.
To his surprise, instead of casting daggers at him, she tossed him a look of smug triumph. Like a cat who had swallowed a bird.
What had she done?
Suddenly concerned that she might have said something to hurt Lily, Ewan made his way to the dining room. He spotted George, Meggie, and Evie. All three were smiling and engaged in lively conversation. He interrupted them. “Where’s Lily?”
George appeared confused. “Isn’t she with you?”
“No, she left me a while ago to join you. She cut through the garden to avoid the crowd.”
The smile on George’s face faltered. “We haven’t seen her. She never made it here.”
Meggie rolled her eyes and laughed. “You know how easily Lily can be distracted. Someone must have caught her attention. I’m sure you’ll find her in the music room discussing her theories on baboon colonies with one of Eloise’s professor friends.”
Ewan’s heart began to pound a little faster. Meggie was probably right. Still, Lily was missing and Callie had a smug look on her face. Those hairs at the nape of his neck were iron-hard spikes again. But Callie couldn’t have seen her. She’d gone into the garden long after Lily had been there. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll help you look for her.” Though George kept his tone light, Ewan knew he was worried too. “Perhaps she went home. After all, we live right next door.”
Ewan nodded. “I’ll search the music room, then the rest of Eloise’s house.”
Meggie began to wring her hands. “What’s going on? Do you think something’s happened to Lily?”
He assured her that he didn’t, but he spoke with little conviction. His instincts were on alert. Lily was in trouble. “As you said, she becomes so lost in her thoughts that she forgets what’s going on around her. I’m sure she’s chatting with one of her scholarly acquaintances, or hiding in Eloise’s library reading a musty book.”
However, a quick inspection of every room, including the library, turned up nothing. Dillie hadn’t seen her either. Ewan’s heart was now firmly lodged in his throat.
The garden? He’d already looked out there. But she wasn’t anywhere else. She had to be there. Had Callie encountered her and said something to make Lily run off to a quiet corner in tears? He blamed himself for insisting that Lily attend the party, and fervently hoped George would find her at home.
But he didn’t. “She isn’t there, Ewan. Pruitt hasn’t seen her since she left the house with you. I don’t like this. We all know she occasionally walks with her head in the clouds, but never like this. She wouldn’t simply wander off.”
Ewan ran a hand across the nape of his neck. Lily had a way of perplexing him. If he wasn’t careful, he’d rub his neck raw worrying about the girl. “I think Callie might have seen her.”
He went in search of the cold beauty and found her in the entry hall standing beside her uncle. They had on their capes and were waiting for their carriage to draw up. “Leaving early?”
Callie shot him another smug look.
“Callie wasn’t feeling well,” said Archie MacCorkindale. “In truth, she’s homesick and has decided to join me when I return to Scotland in a few days’ time. I have business to attend to up there, so we’re cutting short our London stay.”
“Awfully sudden, isn’t it, Callie? I thought you’d come down here for the season.”
She tipped her chin up and shot him an indignant glare. “A woman has the right to change her mind. Not that I wouldn’t mind staying around to see you humiliated.”
Archie frowned. “What do you mean? What’s going on here?”
“His precious Lily.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose you’ll find out soon enough, Ewan. She doesn’t love you. You stupid fool. I saw her in the garden in the arms of another man.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“As I said, men are stupid. She’s obviously taken on a lover. They were intimately wrapped in each other’s arms, then he lifted her into his arms and carried her away. She made no protest.”
“Show me.” He grabbed Callie by the arm and led her to the garden, darting and weaving through the crowd, which thankfully paid them little notice. George and Archie followed close behind. The four of them were alone once outdoors since the night had turned chill, and Eloise had sumptuous food and elegant entertainments to keep her guests enjoyably occupied indoors. “Where did you see them, Callie?”
“I don’t recall.”
He was too angry and frustrated to be politely accepting of her lies. “Where! I vow I’ll wring your neck if you don’t tell me now.”
“Ouch! You’re squeezing my
arm.”
“I’ll do worse if you continue to play games with me. Tell me!”
“Now, see here Ewan. I—”
“Shut up, Archie.” He turned his glower back on Callie, realizing in that moment just how capable he was of murder.
Callie must have sensed it as well, for she suddenly didn’t seem quite so certain of herself. “All right, I’ll tell you. It was over there, by the hedgerows.”
Ewan and George raced over to where she’d pointed, Archie close on their heels. “Och, Ewan. What’s that odd smell?”
Ewan picked up a damp handkerchief lying on the ground. It was a man’s handkerchief, plain, no initials or crest embroidered on it. He held it a good distance from his nose, yet still coughed and felt its foul, potent reach when his head began to lightly spin. “Lily’s been drugged.”
Callie, now beside them, cast him a malicious smile.
He was incredulous. “Damn it, you knew she was struggling. Didn’t you? Yet you left her to fend on her own. You knew she was in danger and did nothing to help her.”
“You can’t prove it. If asked, I’ll say I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”
George let out a low growl. “There’s a special place in hell for people like you. That’s my niece in trouble. If anything happens to her—”
“You ought to have watched her more closely. She isn’t my problem.” She turned away from Lily’s uncle. “Come on, Archie. This party is a crushing bore. Take me home.”
“Not on your life, lass. We dinna leave here until ye’ve told them all you know. The girl’s life could be at stake. I’ll not have that on my conscience. Tell them everything you saw.”
But Callie was of little help. She refused to describe Lily’s assailant or tell them in which direction he was headed, claiming she was too overset to recall. Ewan knew she was lying, that her distress and tears were all a pretense. And he had once considered marrying this witch!
They were wasting precious time here. He cursed inwardly, blaming himself for Lily’s peril. Still, none of this made sense. If he had an enemy, why was his enemy so intent on harming Lily? No one knew how deeply he felt about her. Hell, he hadn’t realized it until tonight. The flurry of gossip several weeks ago about him and Lily being an “item” had quickly been dismissed once word got out that he’d only been protecting her from Jasper. While everyone believed Lily capable of attracting men, no one actually believed her capable of holding on to one for very long. She scared most men with her talk of fluxions and swamp baboons. “Get her out of my sight, Archie.”
He nodded. “I’ll let you know if she remembers anything. Sorry, Ewan. I’ll pray for the lass.”
As they left, Ewan turned to George. “After the incident at Tattersalls, I hired a Bow Street runner by the name of Homer Barrow to investigate on my behalf. I also had him put a man to watch over Lily. He must be around here someplace. Perhaps he’s following them.”
“Let’s hope so. These runners are clever. He might have left word with one of the coachmen. There are dozens of carriages lining the street. Let’s start asking questions. Even if they didn’t see the Bow Street runner, they might have seen something else helpful. The blackguard couldn’t have walked down the street carrying Lily in his arms without anyone noticing. Come to think of it, he must have had a carriage. It’s a small circle. These coachmen know each other, so even if the carriage had no markings, someone might have recognized the driver.”
But to Ewan’s frustration, none of them had seen or heard anything.
“There’s a mews behind Chipping Way,” George said. “That’s where he must have left his conveyance. One can slip unnoticed from the garden to the mews if one keeps to the shadows.”
“Lead the way.”
It took little time to reach the isolated structures that housed the horses, riding equipment, and carriages for the residents of Chipping Way. All was dark and silent. Since George was familiar with these structures, he lost no time in finding a lantern and lighting it. “Look, Ewan! Over there. What is it?”
There was a man sprawled unconscious on the hay-strewn floor. “Do you recognize him, George?”
“No, not one of our groomsmen. Perhaps one of the blackguard’s men.”
“Not likely. They wouldn’t have left one of their own behind to be questioned by the authorities. He could be the runner assigned to guard Lily. Damn. He’s out cold.” Ewan rose and quickly looked around for clues. Any clue. “Stay with him. Get as much information as you can from him when he rouses.”
George nodded. “Where are you going?”
“To talk to Charles and Harry.” Earlier, Lily had complained of him spying through their parlor window. He hadn’t been, but someone obviously had, and Lily and her young cousins had seen the man. He knew he was grasping at the thinnest ray of hope. If Lily hadn’t been able to make out the lurker’s face, the boys likely hadn’t either. Still, it was worth a try.
He raced to the Farthingale home and tore up the stairs as soon as Pruitt opened the door to let him in. “My lord! You can’t just—”
“Not now, Pruitt. Lily’s in trouble,” he shouted, already at the third floor landing. He entered the boys’ quarters and shook Charles awake first, trying not to alarm him but desperate to make up the lost time. “Son,” he said in his gentlest voice, “did you recognize the face you saw in the window this evening?”
The boy’s eyes drifted closed again. “Charles, wake up. It’s important.”
He heard a sniffle behind him. He turned and saw Dillie standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Meggie said you were looking for Lily. I know something’s wrong. I feel it in my heart.” She knelt beside him. “Let me try.” She turned her attention to Charles. “Who did you see, sweetheart? Come on. Wake up.”
“The baboon man,” the boy mumbled, falling back asleep.
Ewan stared at Dillie. “Who the hell is that?”
“He can’t mean Ashton. It makes no sense. He and Lily have been friends forever. He relies on Lily to write his papers.”
“Ashton. Are you sure?”
Dillie began to sob. Soft, gut-wrenching cries that broke his heart. “Yes... no... I don’t know. Ewan, please. Find her.”
CHAPTER 15
LILY AWOKE FEELING cold and ill. That nauseating scent still filled her nostrils and her head wouldn’t stop spinning. She tried to orient herself, but couldn’t. All was pitch black. She tried to move her hands. With senses dulled, it took her a moment to realize they were tied behind her back. Fortunately, her legs were unbound. Her abductors hadn’t bothered to tie them, most likely figuring she couldn’t get far in her fancy, silk evening slippers.
She tried to move her legs. They were painfully stiff and too weak to support her at the moment, but she knew they’d strengthen as the effects of the drug wore off.
What’s happening? Where am I?
Her last memory was of encountering Ashton in the garden. Where was he now? Had he managed to escape? Or was he held captive along with her? She refused to consider that he might have been killed by her abductors. Why had she used the plural? Yes, there had been more than one man. She vaguely recalled being caught from behind by one of those fiends and then handed over to another. She couldn’t remember anything beyond that detail.
“Ashton,” she called out softly.
No answer.
She feared to raise her voice above a whisper, for her captors might hear and know she had revived. Her chances of escaping would then decrease dramatically. But what of Ashton? She couldn’t leave without him, assuming he’d been taken as well. She had to find out if he was held captive, needed time to formulate a plan to save both of them.
First, she had to figure out where she was. It seemed an impossible task at the moment, for her eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness. She guessed that she was alone in some sort of storage room. But was she in a house? A shop? A prison? She didn’t know what this place was.
She could hear f
ootsteps and muffled voices on the opposite side of the door, but no sound other than her own breathing in this room. If Ashton was here, they were holding him in another part of this structure.
She heard a dog bark in the distance and thought of Jasper, but the yelp was too high-pitched and sharp. Jasper’s howl was longer and deeper. She missed that clumsy dog. She shook out of the thought and concentrated on more important matters. Did anyone realize she was missing? Ewan would eventually. He’d alert her family. Ewan and every Farthingale in London might be on her trail by now, but they wouldn’t know where to search. There were dozens of roads out of Mayfair and they all branched out into dozens more. It was a geometrical improbability. There weren’t enough Farthingales in London to cover every road leading out, assuming she’d even been taken out of London.
She thought of her parents. They’d be worried, desperate to find her. She knew they were feeling helpless just now, unable to do anything but pray for her safe return. Tears welled in her eyes. She ought to have been a better daughter, attended more of those society functions that her mother thought were so important.
“I’ll make it home safe,” she muttered to herself. She’d use her wits to stay alive until her loved ones found her. She could manage it. After all, these villains must have grabbed her for a purpose. Likely they were after ransom. Why else take her?
Ashton’s family had resources as well. Though not as wealthy as hers, they still had enough to make his abduction worthwhile. Perhaps they would be released together. A chill ran up her spine. She ought to be remembering something. She couldn’t quite place what was so important. It didn’t matter. It would come back to her as the fog lifted from her brain.
