Their friend pushed through the door an instant later, looking more agitated than Wrexford had ever seen him.
“Lady Cordelia!” he exclaimed without preamble. “Hell and damnation! Lady Cordelia has gone missing!”
CHAPTER 6
Ashiver snaked down Charlotte’s spine as the lamplight played over Sheffield’s pale face and the flicker of fear in his eyes. His attraction to the brilliant Bluestocking had been apparent since their first few encounters, but she hadn’t realized how serious his feelings had become.
She looked to Wrexford, who was already up and moving to the sideboard. “Sit,” he said, thrusting a glass of whisky into Sheffield’s hand, “and drink, Kit. Then tell us what has you so worried.”
Sheffield set it aside untouched and raked a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “She’s gone!” His boots beat an agitated tattoo on the carpet as he began to pace around the room. “I tell you, she’s vanished into thin air!”
“Sit,” repeated the earl. “We can’t be of any help while you’re babbling like Hamlet.”
Expelling a ragged sigh, his friend dropped into one of the armchairs. “Right. Cold-blooded logic and precise order,” he muttered, then took a moment to compose himself.
“Logic,” murmured Wrexford, “is how one solves a problem. So, yes, let us try to apply it to this one.”
The earl’s dry tone seemed to soften Sheffield’s distress.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, pressing his palms to his temples. “It’s just that . . . well, I’m worried.”
“Understandably so,” cut in Charlotte. “Lady Cordelia didn’t show up for her tutoring session with Raven, which seemed decidedly odd. However, Wrexford has pointed out that there are any number of reasonable explanations for why she might have left London without informing her friends.” She quickly recounted what the earl had mentioned, and repeating it made her feel more convinced he was right.
Sheffield, however, shook his head. “No. She wouldn’t have left without telling me.”
“Kit—” began Wrexford.
“She wouldn’t have!”
The earl fixed him with a searching stare. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because we had a meeting scheduled, and she wouldn’t have missed it unless something was wrong.”
“What sort of meeting?” asked Wrexford.
As Sheffield averted his eyes, Charlotte saw a flush steal up to his cheeks. “I prefer not to say.”
Hell’s teeth.Her dismay deepened. Sheffield’s charm and good looks made him a great favorite with the ladies, and he made no secret of his occasional dalliances—though in the past they had always been with married ladies, who knew the rules of the game. If he had seduced an innocent . . .
Affairs of the heart could unleash unpredictable and explosive emotions.
The earl must have read her thoughts, for he grimaced and uttered a scathing oath. “Damnation, Kit,” he added, disappointment resonating in the gruff growl.
Sheffield flinched, as if struck. “You think . . .” A sputter. “No, no, I swear, it’s nothing like that.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sworn to silence, so I can’t reveal the reason.”
His chest rose and fell. “But what I can say is that her brother has been acting erratically lately—all ebullience one moment and then plunging into the depths of despair in the blink of an eye. As the three of us know from our previous investigation, the family is facing financial difficulties because of the late earl’s profligate spending, though they hide it well. And we also know Woodbridge allowed Cordelia to rescue him from the last crisis.”
“And you fear he has done so again?” A note of skepticism colored the earl’s question.
“Yes.” Sheffield scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Lady Cordelia has appeared increasingly distracted of late.” His eyes narrowed. “And the last time I paid a visit to their townhouse, I was passing the drawing room—the doors were half-open—and saw Woodbridge with several other gentlemen. There were papers being signed, and when one of them caught sight of me, he quickly nudged the doors shut.”
“Have you any proof that something unsavory is going on?” pressed Wrexford.
Sheffield remained silent—which to Charlotte was an eloquent enough answer.
Catching a quick warning glance from the earl, Charlotte agreed that for the moment it was best to make no mention of the scene she had witnessed between the brother and sister. Their friend’s emotions were already too much on edge. “Sheffield, perhaps—”
“Something is wrong,” he insisted. “I . . . I just know it in my bones.”
