“I see,” Pickmore observed slowly.
Henry wasn’t certain exactly what his friend saw, but it mattered little. With that, Henry returned to his desk to begin going through the post. Except it wasn’t there.
He frowned. Maybe it hadn’t arrived.
He then looked for his slippers, but they weren’t by the chair.
He always left them by his chair, so where the blazes had they gone off to.
He turned and made a study of his library. Was any wonder he couldn’t find anything in here? It hadn’t been straightened in days. Not since before Eve finally began speaking as a lady.
That’s right. She hadn’t been in here, as if she were avoiding him. Certainly that was not the case and though he’d had some concern, it was for the best, as he had needed that time to gain control over his desire. And, he’d been rather proud of himself for doing so, except that very control had slipped away the moment she had walked into the library last evening clothed in light green silk. It was no wonder the gentlemen of London had lined up almost instantly for an introduction as soon as they took their place within the ballroom.
But that was now all behind them. She’d be courted but it would be Henry who determined who she married. However, in the meantime, he really needed her to attend him to locate the post, along with his slippers. Further, his correspondence was behind and he needed her assistance with that as well.
“Mrs. Peade,” he called.
The footman stepped into the library. “You’ve given Mrs. Peade the day off.”
Oh, yes, that is right. “Have someone send for Miss Doyle and ask her to join me in the library.”
“Right away, Lord Kilsyth.”
A moment later, a maid entered with the tea service. One pot contained coffee, even though it was past the normal time that he drank coffee, but as he hadn’t risen until a short bit ago, an exception needed to be made. The other pot held tea, which Eve and Pickmore would enjoy before they went about the rest of the day.
“Lord Kilsyth,” another maid interrupted.
“Yes, what is it?”
The young maid clung to her skirts as if she were frightened of him. He might bark on occasion, but he wasn’t a tyrant.
“Is there something you wish to tell me or ask?”
“It’s Miss Doyle, Lord Kilsyth.”
“Yes. What about her?”
“She’s not here.”
His pulse skipped for a moment. “What do you mean she’s not here? Did she go out?” Eve knew that she didn’t have permission to leave the house. Yet, the experiment was over so perhaps she’d decided the rules no longer applied.
“Perhaps she’s out back. I remember her admiring the garden from the sitting room,” Pickmore suggested.
“She’s not,” the maid interrupted.
“Ah, then you know where she’s gone. Well, out with it. Where is Miss Doyle?” Henry demanded even though he tried to tell himself that she was taking a stroll and her being missing was something rather innocent, yet panic surged in his veins.
“I don’t know where she went, but all of her belongings are gone.”
“Belongings?” Pickmore questioned, sounding almost as panicked as Henry was feeling.
“All of her clothing that is. Miss Doyle didn’t have much in the way of possessions.”
Except a necklace that she’d taken from him last evening.
“Jeffries!” Henry bellowed.
The maid winced and took a step back. “He has a holiday as well, Lord Kilsyth.”
