“Nom du nom!” she swore. “The littlefool!” Christa broke the seal without compunction and opened the envelope. The message was rambling and tearstained, but the import was clear: Annabelle and her darling Edward were running away to Scotland, they would return in time for the ball, and she hoped her dearest Alex would understand and forgive her once he met Edward and knew what a splendid, noble fellow he was.
Christa wasted several moments grinding her teeth and muttering French curses under her breath. Much of her anger was self-directed. She had known something was wrong, had even started to raise the subject with Alex the night before, only to let her personal affairs get in the way of her duty. She might excuse herself on the grounds that no one could have expected a well-bred, docile girl like Annabelle to do something as outrageous as eloping, but Christa refused that solace. She knew Annabelle, knew how eager to please, how desperate for affection the girl was—perfect prey for an unscrupulous man like Sir Edward.
Christa indulged her reproach only briefly before racing out of the room to Alex’s chamber. If Fiske was there, perhaps he could tell her where Lord Kingsley was dining. She knocked on the door, then burst through without waiting for the valet to answer.
What she found was Alex. He looked at her, caught in the act of unbuttoning his waistcoat. With a quick smile he cocked an eyebrow and asked with a mixture of wry teasing and faint hope, “Dare I assume this precipitate entrance means you have reconsidered my offer?”
“Thank God you are here!” Christa cried. “I thought you would be out until late.” She thrust the note at him.
The humor disappeared from Alex’s face as he saw Christa’s distress. As he took the note, he explained, “My friend was held up in Portsmouth a day longer than expected so I worked late at the Admiralty instead. What has happened?”
“Annabelle has eloped.”
“What!” He scanned the note, then looked at Christa, his eyes grim. “How long has she been gone?”
“Perhaps an hour. No more than an hour and a half, I think. She ate in her room and went to bed early. I had wanted to talk to you tonight anyhow. She has been meeting this Sir Edward in the park regularly, and I was getting worried.”
“Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” Alex rapped out. He had already pulled his jacket on and was reaching for his caped driving coat.
Christa met his gaze steadily. “I did not want to be disloyal to my mistress. I was going to speak of my concern last night, but . . . events transpired.”
Alex sighed. “It was partly my fault. Belle told me she had met this fellow. I asked about him and found he had an unsavory reputation, though no one would be specific. I told Annabelle not to let him call and thought no more of it.”
“Romantic young females do not always obey orders like navy lieutenants.”
“The matter has not escaped my attention,” Alex said dryly. “I assume that if they are heading to Scotland the Great North Road is their likeliest route. If I am successful in finding them, I should be back tomorrow. They haven’t much of a lead.” He pulled his coat on, then picked up a hat and gloves.
Christa put a hand on his sleeve and said earnestly, “Take me with you. If you find her, she will need me. A young woman traveling with her brother and her maid will provoke no comment.” As Alex hesitated, she added, “I have seen Loaming’s carriage and horses.”
“Very well, you may come. What does he drive?”
“A bright blue phaeton with silver trim, and a team of white horses with poor wind and spavins.”
“That bad?” Alex asked with a hint of amusement.
“I may exaggerate,” Christa admitted, “but only slightly. He is the sort of man who prefers show to substance.” She added slowly, “I am wondering, my lord. The message is so specific. If Sir Edward told Annabelle to mention their destination . . . is it possible he wants to be caught? Did you hear anything that might indicate he likes to compromise girls of good fortune in hopes of being bought off? I would wager he is a man with expensive tastes, and perhaps what he wants of Annabelle has more to do with money than love.”
Alex said thoughtfully, “That might fit with the hints I heard. If you are right and he prefers to be overtaken, he may stop at an inn or posting house along the way rather than ride through the night. If that is the case, we have a fair chance of bringing this off.”
Christa nodded. “What will you do if we catch them?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. Certainly I intend to bring Annabelle home. If she absolutely has to have him, she can be married from here in a few weeks when she is of age. But if he is the kind of man I think he is, perhaps I can . . . persuade him to show his true colors. That should effectively end her infatuation.”
“Will you fight him?”
“Only if he insists,” Alex said. “If someone were to be killed, it would be very difficult to conceal.”
“Sir Edward won’t insist,” Christa said positively. “Like his horses, he is all surface and no bottom.”
“Let us pray that proves to be the case. Get your cloak and meet me in the stable.”
Ten minutes later they were heading north at a spanking pace.
* * *
Sir Edward Loaming poured another glass of burgundy, at peace with the world. During the three hours of the ride north, Annabelle’s weeping got on his nerves, but now she sat silently across the deal table from him, playing with her bowl of soup. She had been surprised when they stopped relatively close to London, but Sir Edward’s pockets were to let and he wanted to get as many miles out of his team as possible before he started hiring post horses.
The baronet had been genuinely undecided whether he wanted to be stopped by Lord Kingsley or not. A chunk of the ready would be more than welcome, but he might be better off if he actually married Annabelle. It was getting harder and harder to get near an heiress, and he might never have such a rich prospect in hand again. While Sir Edward was not sure of the extent of her dowry, the viscount was said to be rich enough to buy an abbey, and he surely would not let his sister languish in poverty. More than that, Kingsley would probably pay extra to keep the circumstances of her marriage a secret.
