“That is just the wind kicking up,” the baroness said.
“I find it odd the words are clearer at some times than others,” Brock said, ignoring her. “Irene is missing—”
The baroness gasped and slid down onto the settee, her face turning a chalky alabaster. Ginny poured out two more glasses and took one to her mother.
“Celia said she recognized the man from the park. He works for Griston.” Brock accepted a shot of brandy the baron handed him and tossed it back.
“But Griston was at the Faulks’ soiree,” the baroness said. “I saw him.”
Brock slammed down his glass. “That doesn’t mean Griston isn’t part of this… whatever it is. Lady Wimbley mentioned that Maudsley has a ship at Southwark. Lady Alymer told us that Welton thought he saw Harlowe in the area, but he was too thin and being carried so he couldn’t be certain.” Brock pushed a hand through his hair. “Right now, I believe our only option is following the lead to Harlowe. It’s the only thing we’ve got at this point,” he said.
Kimpton slammed his glass down as well.
So did the baron. “I’ll accompany you.”
“There’s no need, sir,” Brock told him.
“It’s my granddaughter. I’m going.”
Ginny stood at the tall windows, hugging Brock’s evening coat tight about herself, fending off the cool night air that seeped in. After relinquishing Brock’s coat to him, she couldn’t seem to get warm, though a roaring fire blazed in the hearth. The entire household held vigil, praying for Irene’s safe return. Celia moved in front of Ginny, her thumb securely tucked inside her mouth. Ginny wrapped her arm across her younger daughter’s tiny chest, pulling her body against her own.
The tears had dried up, having lodged in a throat no words could pass through.
An arm fell across her own shoulders and pressed. The baroness’s perfume, though subtle, threatened to choke her. “Your marquis seems to hold you in great favor indeed,” she said.
Ginny could only nod.
“His reputation was renowned, you know. When you walked in the house that day all those years ago, it was obvious what had happened. You would have been ruined beyond repair. I’m sorry we didn’t properly scrutinize Maudsley’s character. I never dreamed—”
A small plop sounded as Celia’s thumb came out of her mouth.
Her mother squeezed her shoulders again. “But that’s neither here nor there, is it?” The baroness tugged at her and led them to the fire.
Ginny lowered herself into a wing-backed chair. Celia crawled in her lap, thumb re-tucked, and laid her head on Ginny’s chest. She felt the tears gather again but could do nothing to stop their silent trek down her face as she smoothed Celia’s unbound hair with repetitious strokes.
“As I recall, there was gossip at the time regarding the duke’s young daughter. Goodness, that was a decade ago. I think the girl was around eleven or twelve. She’d been… er, taken, and the marquis was said to have left England to retrieve her.”
Ginny’s attention sharpened, and she turned to her mother, stunned.
“I never learned the results. It was speculated in polite circles that she didn’t survive the ordeal. That’s never been confirmed as the duke managed to keep the information out of the press. Nor has he been seen in society since. I also heard that the marquis did not return to England for several years.”
“Because of my marriage to Maudsley?” Her cracked whisper sounded. Celia shifted restlessly on her lap.
“Your father and I feared you might be with child. If that had happened… well, surely, you can see our dilemma.”
How was Ginny to respond? What would she do if faced with the same situation? Teach her children to fend for themselves, for one. She hugged Celia tighter and let the silence reign.
“We felt we had no choice, Virginia. I’m sorry.”
“I won’t marry anyone but Brock, Mother. Don’t push me at the new earl. I cannot even abide calling the man by his title.”
Thirty-Six
L
ord Harlowe.” Panic seared Irene at the man’s silence. “Help me, James. We can’t let him die. Lord Kimpton has been looking for him. We can’t let him die.”
James scooted closer. His rank smell triggered a sneeze. From both of them, actually, Lord Harlowe and Irene.
