In the wake of her departure, Dominic’s hard shell shattered. He began to pace, running a stressed hand through his hair, shaking his head, a haunted look clouding his beautiful eyes.
“This is all my fault,” he said. “I should have known. I am her father; I should have seen it. I should have been paying closer attention! He was in the music room at Alderwick, staring at her as if he had already won her! And when he flirted with you at the debut ball, Frances, I was so blind with jealousy that I did not see the deceit. It was so I would not notice his true intentions! Goodness, how I see it all now!”
Frances got up and as he paced toward her, seemingly determined to walk right through her in his agitated state, she slammed her palms into his chest to stop him. Looking up into his eyes, she grasped him by the lapels, her heart breaking for him.
“None of this is your fault, Dominic,” she insisted. “She has been tricked by this man, and she is too young and innocent to know it. I imagine he warned her to keep it a secret, because he knew it was wrong. Young ladies are very good at keeping secrets, Dominic. You could not have known. Heavens, evenIdid not see it.”
Oh, but I see it now.
She frowned as she thought of Harriet’s sly smile, seated in the corner of the library, as she devoured a letter that had just arrived. She thought of the key around Harriet’s neck, to lock her private study. She thought of the walled gardens, where Harriet had rushed off the moment she heard a letter had arrived for her.
“You did not want to treat her the way your father treated you,” she added, as her hands flattened on his chest. “You allowed her freedom, you allowed her privacy, and the viscount has taken advantage of that. But it is not your fault, even so. You did what was right for her, and you will do what is right for her now. We can fix this before anyone hears of it. We can save her, Dominic; I promise we can.”
She did not know it for certain, but she had seen how fast he had raced towardheronce. He would do the same for Harriet, just as soon as they could figure out where she might be.
“Of course, they will be on their way to Gretna Green,” she said, thinking. “It is a lengthy journey from here. They will probably stop many times on the road, and that means we have many opportunities to rescue her from this mistake. We do not need to rush. Indeed, it is better if we contemplate this slowly, so we can get her back as quickly as possible.”
Dominic expelled a shaky sigh as his hand came up to cover one of hers. There, with her palm to his heart, she stood like a pillar of comfort and helped him to breathe.
“All will be well,” she said softly. “She cannot have gone too far.”
“I shall rip his head from his neck,” Dominic rasped. “I shall beat him black and blue, until not even his mother would recognize his face.”
Frances gulped. “Better to get your fury out now, so thatyoudo not end up in a courthouse. You cannot kill him, Dominic. You must remember that.”
He was a wild beast that needed a soothing voice and a tender touch to settle him, and perhaps a firmer hand if his temper rose too high again. But, right now, he seemed to be listening, seemed to be responding, the movement of his broad chest gradually slowing to more even breaths.
Just then, Mrs. Farrow came marching down the hallway, dragging the maid behind her.
“Did you know about this plan?” Dominic snarled, prompting Frances to grab him around the waist. He could have knocked her over in a quarter of a second if he had wanted to, but the pressure of her arms around him seemed to be enough to hold him back.
The maid, wide-eyed and drained of all color, gave the smallest, most hesitant nod that Frances had ever seen, as if the girl’s mind was screaming at her not to admit it.
“She confides in you about him?” Frances took over, before Dominic did something stupid.
The maid nodded.
“Has this been… progressing for two years, as it said in her letter?” Frances asked, as she turned and stood directly in front of Dominic instead, her back against his stomach.
The maid nodded again.
“How can that be?” Dominic hissed.
The rattled maid dropped her gaze and clasped her hands as if praying for mercy. “They met when the Duke of Ravenvale brought the hunting party to Alderwick.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “There, he kissed her cheek and told her he feared he was falling in love with her. They have been writing ever since.”
Dominic hissed some words that did not bear repeating, so coarse and furious that Frances almost crossed herself. Yet, she could not blame him for using such language. In his situation, she might have done the same.
“I shall throttle Hugo for this,” he spat. “He allowed that weasel into my house! He allowed that rat to sneak into my daughter’s affections! Why did I not kick them all out when they first arrived? Why did I not take Harriet and leave to anywhere more appropriate? I put her in harm’s way. Blast it all! Why did I not see it?”
Carefully, Frances reached back and took hold of his hand, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
“They were due to walk together yesterday,” the maid added, “but she changed her mind. I believe they arranged the plan to elope at the ball last night.”
“Where are these letters?” Dominic demanded to know, his chest pressing against Frances’ shoulders as if he still might push through her.
The maid gulped. “At Alderwick, Your Grace.”
“Did the viscount collect her from here?” Frances said, thinking a little more clearly, selecting more helpful questions. “Or were they supposed to rendezvous somewhere? Did she leave from the front of the house or the back? In a carriage or on foot?”
