He hadn’t lied to the Duke. He had figured out what had caused the explosion. The curing process required fire. However, because the crystals were much larger than usual, and because there was more of the volatile chemical present, the result had been an explosion. Either he needed to make the crystals smaller, resulting in smaller diamonds, or he needed to cure them one by one.
Douglas opened the window and peered out, but there wasn’t a roof overhang to support his weight, only the ground three floors below. He looked up. The eaves were too sharply angled for him to lever himself up and onto the roof, which meant he’d have to find another way out of the room.
The door was securely bolted, and he didn’t have a doubt that one of the duke’s mastiffs was sitting outside the door armed with a pistol. There was only one way to get around that fact, either overpower the guardor surprise him. But he couldn’t overpower a guard he couldn’t reach.
He wanted out of here, now. Longing for Sarah exploded like his diamonds, a thousand smaller bursts that lodged in his heart, his mind, and his body. He was not going to allow the Duke of Herridge to dictate the course of his life, and he was certainly not going to let His Grace keep him from his wife.
Only one thing would work, and the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed.
All he had to do was wait for Simons.
Two days later, Douglas had not yet returned. Sarah attempted to go about her duties as she normally would, but she found herself without much to do. Even when she should have been relieved to have time to write in her journal, she spent the time staring off into the distance, wondering about Douglas.
Twice, she wrote to Alano at the address Mrs. Williams had furnished. Twice, she tore up the letter, knowing that it revealed too much of their circumstances and her personal fears.
She knew, however, as each hour passed, and Douglas still didn’t appear, that something would need to be done. She could not go on like she was, pretending that nothing was wrong, pretending that life at Chavensworth was as serene as it had been prior to her mother’s death.
No one mentioned Douglas’s name. Not one person remarked on his absence. Did each person employed at Chavensworth think that Douglas had left her? She suspected they did from the pitying looks she was receiving.
On the evening of the second day, she entered herroom, opened up her writing desk, and wrote a third letter to Alano. Regardless of how much she revealed of herself, she needed to know where Douglas was, and she hoped Alano would know. Whether or not he told her was another problem entirely. The letter done, she sealed it and propped it up against the inkwell. In the morning, she would send it to Alano via a footman and request that the young man wait for a reply.
She stared at the bed, viewing it as an enemy rather than a simple piece of furniture. She hadn’t been able to sleep well since Douglas had left Chavensworth. Tonight, she would not go to bed until she was sufficiently exhausted. If she needed to remain awake the whole night, then so be it.
She smoothed her hand over the top of her bureau, feeling the silken wood, well dusted and waxed. The mantel had been dusted; none of the bric-a-brac had a speck of dust. The brass of the andirons and the screen was perfectly polished. On her dressing table, the crystal atomizers were perfectly aligned. The silver tray on which they sat had been buffed to a gleaming shine.
Everything was perfect, and nothing was right.
The knock on the door proved a welcome respite from her own company. She walked to the door, opened it and smiled at Florie.
“Are you feeling better?” Sarah asked.
Florie ignored that question for one of her own.
“Lady Sarah,” Florie said. “I wouldn’t bother you, Lady Sarah, but I wonder if you know when Tim might be coming home?”
She gestured her maid into the room with one hand and closed the door behind her. “I didn’t know he was gone,” she said.
“He took Mr. Eston to London, two days ago. But hetold me that he’d be home that night. It’s been two days, Lady Sarah, and I’ve heard nothing.”
Sarah felt both foolish and selfish. She’d never even thought about Tim. “You’ve had no word since then?”
“No, Lady Sarah. Nothing.”
“Do you know why they were going to London?”
“No, Lady Sarah. I don’t think Tim knew,” Florie said, beginning to weep.
She led Florie to a chair and sat beside her. Despite her tears, there was a glow about the girl, a beauty Sarah had never before noticed. A suspicion slipped into her mind.
“Florie, are you with child?”
Her maid beamed through her tears, a smile of such joy that Sarah almost reeled from its brightness.
“Yes, Lady Sarah, I am. But I haven’t even told Tim,” Florie said, her smile fading to tears once again. “I was going to tell him Tuesday, but he never returned home.”
Sarah glanced at the note on the secretary. “I’ll see to it myself, Florie,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll go to London and see what has happened to Tim.”
“Can I go with you, Lady Sarah?”
