It was Jasper’s turn to frown. “Might she still be abed? She would have written her article as soon as I brought her home, but she was to send it in with a messenger…” A bead of icy perspiration travelled down his spine, spreading gooseflesh over his skin in its wake. He turned to Thomas. “You don’t suppose,” he gritted out, “she would have attempted to return to your apartments for a change of attire and deliver the article by hand, do you?”
Thomas’ face turned ashen. “Grace told her n-n-n—click—not to. Surely she wouldn’t be—grunt—so rash.”
The worry in the man’s eyes, however, told Jasper that shewouldbe that rash.
Jasper surged to his feet, spilling some of his cold tea on the tip of his Hessians. “Thomas, have you your key? I’m going in search of her.”
* * *
Maria was swirling,floating around an echoing room that was filled with the voice of—Francis?Oh no. The knowledge was alarming, and yet she couldn’t seem to muster the concern…couldn’t seem tofocus. Where was she? What was Francis doing?
She lay on her side, her eyelids too heavy to open, and could scarcely feel where her body connected to a hard, flat surface.
“… will be so very worried after he sees the remains of the fire.”
What fire?Oh yes.The one at her apartments. Had Francis started that? Perhaps he had. And who would be worried?
Damn, but she couldn’t shake this mental fog. She was heartbroken about the fire, she knew, but at the moment, her heart remained unmoved. In fact, she was rather unconcerned about her current circumstance in its entirety.
“We’ll send him a little gift,” Francis was saying, his voice growing nearer.
She felt his warmth as he knelt on the ground beside her.Am I on the ground?A part of her thought that she ought to pull away from him, should fight back, but she felt neither the ability nor the inducement to move.
One by one, her hairpins were removed from her chignon, the tightness against her scalp gradually easing. A hand slipped beneath her head, gathering her hair at the back of her head.
“No need to take it all just yet.”
Snick.
“There,” Francis purred. “This will be a nice gift for your paramour.”
The shifting of fabric sounded loud in the quiet space as he moved away and returned. Something cold pressed to her lips—a spoon, she realized—and poured liquid into her mouth.
“We cannot have you awakening and causing yet more trouble for me.”
Maria didn’t care, truly, but there was a small part of her mind that made her hold the liquid in her cheek and feign a swallow. Mayhap, then, she could finally think beyond the dratted fog.
Francis rose and turned away, and Maria slowly let the liquid dribble from the corner of her mouth.
* * *
“Stop!”Jasper hollered to his coachman as they neared Maria’s apartments in Cheapside.
“My God,” Thomas breathed.
The carriage rolled to a stop on the narrow, crowded street, the scents of urine, bitter ale, and smoke hitting Jasper as he stepped from the carriage. His gaze was riveted on Maria’s building.
“When did this—grunt—fire—grunt—happen?” Thomas asked a vendor selling questionable-looking vegetables.
“Just this mornin’,” the man replied with a soft Scottish burr.
Jasper’s feet hit the cobblestones hard as he ran toward the building’s entrance. Thomas was slow to follow, his pale features contorted in a grimace as he retrieved a key from his borrowed coat. But the door was already open, hanging from its hinges. Beads of perspiration formed on Jasper’s upper lip, and he swiped angrily at them.
The stairs were charred in places, and creaked under his weight as he stormed to the next floor. Her door hung open at an unnatural angle, and Jasper’s heart hiccoughed. Palms beginning to sweat and fingers trembling, he walked into the scorched room.
Thomas let out a throaty sob, his hands covering his mouth as he took in the damage. “Maria must be—grunt, grunt—devastated. Hereverythingwas—click, grunt—in this apartment.” He gasped and turned his wide eyes on Jasper. “You d-d—click—don’t suppose she—grunt—washere, do you?”
Jasper scanned the room, his heart twisted in agony at the thought, when something caught his eye. Among the burnt rubble was a flash of cream parchment. And a dagger. His stomach dipped.
