What the woman implied was so evil Jemma could barely form the thought, let alone the words. Her mind refused to consider the possibility, it was sohorrificthat her parents’ dearest friends had not been their friends at all. She had to know. “What are you saying?”
“Haven't you been listening?” Lady Corbett fisted her hand and hit Jemma again, this time across the nose. “See what you made me do? I’ll have to tell the minister you became violent and I had to subdue you.”
Jemma saw stars for an instant before a flood of something warm and wet spurted from her nose. Her entire face ached. Drops of blood dotted the lap of her gown. “Did you kill—” She choked, the words to horrifying to say a loud.
Lady Corbett rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Well, of course Idid.Haven’t you been listening? They bothlovedmy teacakes.
* * *
The Earl of Marshslid up against the leather squabs of his carriage as the Marsh coachman took a sharp turn in his haste to reach Dunbar House. John pounded the top of his cane against the roof. “It’ll do us no good if the coach overturns in your haste.”
The coach slowed, but only slightly.
John placed one hand on the window frame and hung on for dear life as his coachman navigated the busy London streets. His stomach flip-flopped as much from the ride as from the news he had for the duke. How do you tell the Devil of Dunbar that his bride has gone missing while inyourcare?
The coach slowed to a halt and John fairly leapt out to land on the steps to the duke’s town home. When Jane Emily disappeared from sight at the park, they’d all assumed she’d merely wandered off the path, after all, the lass had been wandering about dreamy-eyed for the last few weeks since she and the duke had come to an understanding. Still, Jane Emily was not a silly girl, and not without skills. He knew for a fact that His Grace took her shooting often, something John did not share with his wife. Certainly, she would not be so foolish as to allow herself to be set upon and taken. But, apparently, shehad.
Impatiently, he pounded on the door, worry for his niece causing him to disregard all politeness.
“Yes?” A slightly pompous, elderly butler greeted him.
John barely spared the man a glance. “I am Lord Marsh. Where is His Grace?” he said loudly into the hall. “I must speak to him immediately. It is a matter of the utmost urgency regarding my niece, Jane Emily.”
The butler’s eyes widened at hearing Jane Emily’s name. “Of course, my lord, this way.”
John followed closely behind the butler through the length of the Dunbar hallway, marveling that the older man could move so swiftly.
The butler stopped before a pair of large wooden doors from which the sound of revelry could be heard. He rapped once, and then opened the doors.
Four men lounged on several enormous, overstuffed chairs. John recognized all of them, especially his son Rowan, who sat up immediately as his father entered, a cheroot dangling from his fingers.
The duke had been telling a joke, or so it appeared from the look of laughter in the group’s eyes, but he stopped mid sentence when he saw John. Instantly, the look of amusement fled from the duke’s face, and the odd eyes narrowed dangerously. “What is it?”
John swallowed. He had forgotten how menacing His Grace could be for the duke had been kindness itself to the Marsh family since the betrothal, but the man he looked at now was not the laughing dinner guest who bantered with his niece and complimented his wife’s table. There was a reason thetonfeared him.
“What is it?” The whiskey-laden voice said again.
“She’s gone,” John choked out. “Jane Emily. She’s disappeared.”
* * *
Nick thoughtfor a moment he had misheard the earl, and so he had asked the question again. He heard a buzzing noise in his ears and a sickening feeling crawled across his chest. “What?”
Lord Marsh wobbled to a free chair and sat. “We’ve looked everywhere, Your Grace.” The earl pressed a handkerchief to his brow, clearly distraught. “After visiting the dressmakers, we stopped for tea. We were in the park. She—”
“When?” Nick strived to keep his voice calm. He told himself to breathe. But that horrible darkness that had visited him when he thought Jem was dead reappeared, threatening to choke him.
“Not more than an hour or so. I’ve men still searching for her, walking through the bramble and the wood.” He shook his head. “Lord Bennett rode over to speak to Lady Marsh and myself. Jane Emily and Petra were strolling the path before us, well within our sight.” He shook his head. “Petra wished to say hello to Bennett and left her cousin on the path. Jane Emily was following a trail of peonies. The park was full of people.” His hands twisted over his cane. “We looked away only for an instant. Only an instant.” His voice broke. “Why would anyone take Jane Emily?”
Rowan stood and walked over to stand behind his father, laying his hand on Lord Marsh’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort the older man. “Your Grace—” Rowan started.
Nick forced himself to breathe. The tips of his fingers went cold and his heart beat erratically. Bits of conversations ran through his mind at lightening speed, one in particular standing out. A conversation he should have paid closer attention to, but she’d made himsoangry.
“Peabody.”
The butler immediately stood at attention. “Your Grace, what do you require?”
“My sister. Has she returned?” Nick’s body was taut.Arabella. Every instinct screamed aloud that his sister had something to do with Jem's disappearance.
