“We stay in the carriage,” Jacob warned Vivian. “You haven’tseen traffic like an afternoon promenade, and we want to be home in time to hear Graham’s news.”
She nodded, her unfocused gaze facing the general direction of the carriage window, though Jacob doubted she registered any buildings that passed outside of it.
Her spine snapped upright the moment they reached the famous gates, her brown eyes suddenly sharp and bright. Their carriage joined the long queue of conveyances inching forward amongst waves of well-heeled pedestrians.
Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Who are you looking for?”
“No one.” She scanned the dense crowd of fashionable lords and ladies like a hawk hunting its next meal.
“Vivian,” he warned.
She gasped and leaned across his lap to tap at his window. “Look! It’s Lord Uppington!”
“Leave him be,” Jacob advised. “We can’t just march up to Leisterdale’s son and start asking questions about whether his father is engaging in blackmail and abduction.”
“Watch me,” Vivian replied. “If Uppington’s father kidnapped Quentin, I’m putting an end to it this very day.”
“As much as we want to find your cousin, we cannot leap to conclusions. Let’s say Philippa is right, and our enemy is Leisterdale. His heir could be a party to the crimes as well, in which case he’s not going to tell us anything. Or he may have no idea what his father has done. Or both men could be completely innocent, and we’re on the wrong track altogether.”
“‘Completely innocent’? Tell that to the enslaved people toiling on their sugar plantations.”
“Innocent of this particular abduction,” he clarified. “There’s a place in hell awaiting both of them. But so far, we’ve no evidence linking any specific lord to your cousin’s disappearance. And whoever it is could be working with accomplices or intermediaries.”
Jacob could only imagine how he would feel if someone in his own family was being held hostage. He, too, would be ready to smash any wall and burn any bridge to rescue those he loved from danger.
He touched her arm gently. “Whoever has Quentin, we’ll find him.”
“But will we find him in time?” Vivian asked bleakly.
She launched herself from the carriage, leaving Jacob to scramble after her.
“Vivian, wait!” he hissed as he sprinted to catch up. “If anyone is to confront him, it should be Chloe and Faircliffe. They’d be the most likely to gain a peer’s confidence and the least likely to cause suspicion. We can discuss a strategy in the Planning Parlor—”
Vivian put on speed as she threaded the crowd. Jacob stayed on her heels. A few faces glanced at them askance, but most ignored them altogether.
The aristocrats, the nouveau riche, and those who aspired to be one or the other ambled along at an unhurried stroll, content to see and be seen at their leisure. They’d promenade here for hours, moving at a snail’s pace as they called out greetings and bussed cheeks and fluttered fans and loudly mentioned their hunting lodges or theater boxes or personal invitations to coveted soirées.
Vivian shot past all of them.
“There he is!” She stormed straight into the sea of lordlings, who parted in her wake. “Lord Uppington! I humbly request a brief moment of your time.”
Upon sight of her, the earl’s lip curled and he deliberately turned his back.
“Shite,” Jacob muttered. This was the opposite of subtle.
Undaunted, Vivian pressed forward. “Please, my lord, just a few seconds to—”
Holding his body stiff and regal, Uppington shoved his nose higher into the air and dramatically refused to glance her way.
“Please.” Her voice cracked. “I’m begging you.”
The tips of her outstretched fingertips brushed the elbow of the earl’s fine coat.
Quick as lightning, Uppington slapped her hand away, then scrubbed at his own hand and elbow with a monogrammed white handkerchief as though he had been irrevocably soiled from the brief contact.
Vivian’s face went completely blank as she lowered her slapped hand back to her side.
Jacob put his arms around her and turned her away from Uppington, whose fawning cronies crowded against their white knight as though he’d emerged victorious from a battle with a grotesque monster.
