“You are indeed. Pussyfooting around, makingplans. Why, if you want something . . . someone—take it! Be a man about it, Lucas.” Heathcliff nodded empathically.
“This isn’t the Highlands.”
Heathcliff huffed. “You needn’t remind me of that. I’m quite painfully aware.”
“There’s protocol, and if I were to misstep, then—”
“Then what, exactly? You’re sounding more and more like Ramsey.”
“That’s because you’re a brute, and I sound nothing like Ramsey.”
“I’ve been called worse.” Heathcliff shrugged.
“By me, no doubt.”
His friend grinned.
“Why go about like a bull in a china shop, when one can be far more stealthy and gain more information and. . . privacy?” Lucas asked, grinning.
“Ah, diabolical. I like it. Carry on.” Heathcliff gave a dismissive wave.
“I would, could I find the woman in question.”
“Perhaps you should find her father first, to make sure they didn’t take their leave.”
Lucas’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t considered that Chatterwood would spirit his daughter away so quickly. Yet now, in hindsight, he could see its potential quite clearly. “Damn and blast.”
“Try the faro table,” Heathcliff encouraged.
But Lucas was already heading in that direction.
His fears were confirmed when he couldn’t find the duke at the gaming tables, or milling about in the ballroom, nor could he find Liliah.
They had most certainly left.
His memory flashed back to Liliah’s father’s grip on her arm, the way he controlled her, held her tightly.
Hurt her.
Rage smoldered within, yet he was powerless to do anything save charge to the estate—which would only serve to have him thrown into the street on his ear.
He needed a different plan.
And he knew exactly whom he needed to ask for assistance.
He only hoped she hadn’t left as well.
Lucas searched the ballroom for Lady Rebecca. It wasn’t difficult to find her, for she was ever within earshot and eyesight of Meyer. At his approach, she cocked her head curiously.
“My lady.” Lucas bowed.
“My lord,” Lady Rebecca returned politely, her head still tilted, her eyes illuminated with curiosity.
“I find myself in need of your assistance. Would you mind taking a turn about the room with me?”
Lady Rebecca nodded once, placing her hand on his offered arm. “I find myself exceedingly curious as to why you’d need assistance from me, given our short acquaintance.”
“It is in efforts to assist a mutual . . . friend.” The word tasted bitter in his mouth.
