“Do they have weapons drawn, Miss Harriet?”
“Oh, I cannot tell.”
Alice came to her side and held her by the waist. “Careful, or you’ll fall out.”
“I have a solid grip,” she assured the maid, but did not mind having the extra support. “Wait, they are walking out already.”
“Good, that was quick.”
“No, Alice. This is bad. All three of them are frowning and now hurrying back to the house. I’m going downstairs.”
“Oh, no! Please don’t, Miss Harriet. His Grace said to—”
But Harriet was already rushing out the door.
She was merely going to meet them as they walked in. But Lady Beatrice’s father, the Marquess of Covington, was also standing by the door, hovering beside Flint and looking quite dour as the three dukes marched in. “Did you find my daughter, Pendrake?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Covington. I did not.”
Lord Covington released a deflated breath. “Then she’s finally done it, run off with that bounder, Arlington.”
“He’s hardly a bounder,” Pendrake replied. “The man is a Royal Navy captain and commands his own ship. He distinguished himself during the war, and his family is reputable.”
“But he is a commoner,” her father hissed, now turning to stare at Harriet who had paused on the bottom step of the staircase, now hesitant to approach. “My daughter sent that note toyou. And the two of you were chatting up a storm throughout the picnic. What did she tell you?”
“Nothing, my lord. I promise you, she told me nothing at all.”
“And you expect me to believe this? You had to know she was planning something.” He advanced on her. “Foolish girl, did she trick you into helping her? Tell me what she told you.”
Pendrake immediately got between them, creating a secure barricade as he made certain to keep her tucked behind him. “I am sorry you are in distress, Covington. But this does not give you permission to accost my guests. Miss Comeford never met your daughter until today. You have known Beatrice for her entire lifetime. Do not think to cast blame on anyone but yourself and Beatrice. This is between father and daughter and has nothing to do with Miss Comeford.”
Harriet was surprised when Ware and Folkstone also defended her.
But she felt wretched when Lord Covington broke down in tears. “I have to find her, Pendrake. She is my dearest child. I must stop her before she marries Arlington.”
Was Beatrice of age? Or would she and this Arlington fellow need to run off to Gretna Green? Or perhaps all they needed was to get on a ship and have the captain officiate their ceremony?
She feared to ask these questions.
“Miss Comeford,” the duke said gently, “please return to your bedchamber. My friends and I will assist Lord Covington from here on out.”
“No! The chit stays with us. I know my Beatrice told her something, and I shall have it out of her if I—”
“Do not threaten the lady.” Pendrake once again nudged her behind him as he glowered at Beatrice’s father.
“Sheknowswhere my daughter fled!”
Harriet’s heart was caught in her throat. “Upon my honor, Lord Covington,” she said hoarsely. “I do not!”
How could he think such a thing?
This was a disaster.
“She told me nothing. However, I shall come with you into the study and gladly help in any way I can. Believe me, my lord. I wish I knew where she has gone.”
“It is obvious she sent her note to Miss Comeford as a distraction for her elopement scheme,” Pendrake said, motioning for them all to follow him into his study.
He paused a moment to instruct Flint. “Have tea brought in for all of us.”
