“Colonel!” Forthrite called out as he rushed toward him, glancing up and down the street as he crossed it. Tomes jogged along at his heels. The men’s scowls shattered Nash’s high spirits.
Panic and dread gripped him with icy fingers. “What has happened? Where is my Sophie?”
The two men halted and exchanged cringing looks.
“One of you better damn well answer me now.”
Forthrite jabbed a thumb back at Hasterton House. “Your wife is in there, sir. Has been ever since she and the duchess got back.”
“Got back from where?”
“Shopping,” Tomes said. “Seemed to be looking around, mostly. They didn’t tarry long or go into any of the shops. Eyed what was in the windows and spoke to some lady friends of theirs.”
“But after they spoke to those women, your lady acted unwell. Like something untoward had happened,” Forthrite said. “Afraid I don’t know what was said. Wasn’t close enough to hear anything.”
“I saw nothing happen,” Tomes said. “And her ladyship refused to tell us what went wrong. Neither she nor Her Grace would tell us anything.”
The back of Nash’s neck tingled with an uneasiness that made him roll his shoulders to rid himself of the unholy sensation. There had been that odd encounter with those three ladies who had addressed Miss Hampshire asLady Rydleshire. Had those three meddlers relayed the meeting to Sophie? “Where did this happen? Where was Lady Sophie shopping?”
“Her ladyship and the duchess were strolling along pretty as you please on Bond Street.” Forthrite gave a bewildered shake of his head. “Then, after talking to those ladies, they loaded back up into their carriage, hurried to here, and scuttled into the duchess’s place. Haven’t been out since.”
“She must be feeling poorly indeed, colonel,” Tomes said. “She sent for her maid. A pair of footmen even helped the woman take several bundles over there to her.”
Nash clenched his teeth to keep from bellowing at the top of his lungs. Either those vile women had convinced her or Sophie had seen him with Miss Hampshire and assumed the worst. That would be the only reason for her behavior. He charged across to Hasterton House, loped up the steps, and pounded on the door. He would explain everything and bring her home so her mother could validate the truth of his story. Then all would be well between them again—at least, he prayed it would be so.
Gransdon barely cracked open the door. “Good day, Lord Rydleshire. You are not allowed admittance, sir.”
“Not allowed admittance?” Nash forced the toe of his boot into the crack so the butler couldn’t close the door. “My wife is in there. You will allow my entrance immediately.”
“That is not possible. Good day, my lord.” The wily old man booted Nash’s toe back out, slammed the door shut, and bolted it.
Nash stared at the door in raging disbelief. This could not be happening. Not when he and his precious swan had finally worked everything out and thrown themselves fully into growing their love and creating a real and lasting marriage. He banged on the door again, then rammed his shoulder against it over and over. The massive thing didn’t budge. “Damned oak. Let me in, Gransdon! Now, I say! Let me in this very minute!”
No sounds came from the other side of the barrier that kept him from the woman he loved.
“This is not over!” He ran back across the street and charged up the steps. They would let Sophie’s mother inside. She would plead his cause. As he burst into the house, Merritt and the dowager countess met him in the hallway. Their grim expressions made his heart plummet.
“She has barred you as well?” he asked his mother-in-law.
“Yes.” Lady Nia drew in a deep breath and released it with a heavy sigh. “Celia is protecting Sophie the best way she knows how—at Sophie’s request, I am quite certain.”
“By keeping you from your distraught daughter? Is she mad?” He wanted to rush back over there and chop the door to bits with an ax. “Why are you not enraged?”
“Because Celia loves Sophie like a sister.” The dowager sadly shook her head. “And Sophie trusts no one but her now. Not even me. I do not understand what happened today, but whatever it was, it destroyed the progress that the two of you made over these past few months.” Her mouth tightened into ahard line as she tipped her head in his direction. “Would you care to share what you think overset her?”
“I think this is better discussed in the parlor,” Merritt interrupted with a cautious glance up and down the hall. “Considering we have yet to discover our traitor.”
Nash agreed. He followed them into the room and shut the double doors. Neither Lady Nia nor Merritt sat. Nash felt the same. The torment of this situation did not allow for sitting. “I fear Sophie saw me with Miss Hampshire on Bond Street and completely misunderstood the circumstances of my visit. And according to my men, she spoke with some ladies of thetonwho more than likely made the situation even worse.”
Lady Nia stared at him in disbelief as she slowly drifted toward him. “You did not tell her about your promise to General Hampshire?”
The accusation in the woman’s tone cut through Nash like white-hot steel and accused him of being the worst sort of fool.
“I did not wish to trouble her with it.” He inwardly flinched at the weakness of the excuse.
“You know she has struggled to trust you.” The dowager closed the distance between them as though ready to strike him. “Did you not consider for one moment what it would look like for you to be seen with a woman of Miss Hampshire’s reputation?” She clenched her trembling fists tighter. “Where did you meet with this young madam of Bond Street to discuss her opportunities?” Her furious scowl left no doubt about how deeply he had fouled this venture. “Tell me you discussed everything in the privacy of a coach. Tell me you chose not to enter her brothel during midday, when the ladies of thetonare known to do their shopping on Bond Street.”
He bowed his head and stared at his boot tips. “I wish I could tell you all those things. But I cannot.”
