“I don’t know why you insisted on accompanying me.” They were in the country, for heaven’s sake. What on earth could happen, and on their own property? Thorne’s presence within the close confines of the carriage was irritating at best. Mostly because Lorelei wished to bury herself in the safety of his embrace. To stave off the impending sense of doom that suffocated her.
“It’s dark, my dear. I’ll not have a horse throwing a shoe over your pride in keeping me at bay. Besides, we must talk, and this is as good a place as any.”
She turned her gaze out to the moonless sky. “I fail to see what there is to talk about.” He was right, of course.
“For one thing, Lady Maudsley’s children.” His tone seemed bland to her numbed senses.
She jerked her eyes to his. The low-lit lantern gave off a subtle enough glow that showed the seriousness portrayed in his countenance. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Virginia Maudsley’s children. Ladies Cecilia and Irene.”
“I know Ginny’s children are Cecilia and Irene,” she said impatiently, but her impatience was quickly replaced by a sense of dread. “They aren’t hurt, are they?”
He took her hands in his. They were warm, comforting, familiar. “No, they aren’t hurt,” he said quickly. “But they accompanied me to Kimpton.” He said this gently.
For a moment, Lorelei wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. She leaned back against the seat, relief filling her. “So Ginny accepted my invitation after all. Thank God.”
“I’m afraid Lady Maudsley didn’t accompany her daughters.”
Lorelei straightened. “I don’t understand,” she said. “She must have been more ill than I realized. I should have checked on her when Lady Dankworth said she was not well enough to attend tea.” She glanced up. The transformation of Thorne’s expression went from grim to one hewn of stone. Her apprehension soared. “How is it thatyouended up with Irene and Cecilia, Thorne? The truth, if you please.”
“I’m afraid Lady Maudsley did not fare so well. Brockway discovered her reply to your invitation, and was… concerned for her. He returned to the house with the girls and their maid within an hour and asked that I escort them here. Place them under your care.”
“But of course.” A long silence followed, and Lorelei swallowed. Unable to force the questions past her closed throat, she stared at their conjoined fingers. Yet she had to know. “Lord Maudsley hurt her, didn’t he?” she whispered. “Dear God. I knew it would come to this.” She raised her eyes to his once more. “Where is Ginny, Thorne?”
“I don’t know where she is.” His mouth formed a grim line she longed to coax into something less stern.
She inhaled deeply, releasing the stream of air slowly. “Leastways the maid was able to accompany them,” she said, tugging her hands from his.
“About that—”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Yes?”
“I fear Maudsley has been having his way with the maid.”
“Good heavens, the girl is but a child herself,” she breathed, falling back against the seat. “And you learned of this how?”
“Irene and Cecilia told me.” He moved his hands to the top of his knees and shifted awkwardly on his side of the carriage.
There must be much more to this horrendous story if her husband’s apparent discomfort was anything to go by. “And?”
Thorne glanced out the carriage window, pushing his fingers through his hair. “There is the distinct possibility Miss Elvins threatened her charges.”
“Threatened!” She hadn’t expected that. “We must turn back. Right this instant. We can’t possibly leave those girls in her care another moment.”
The grim line of his lips softened into a small smile. “Lorelei, I am not completely daft. The girl is on her way back to London as we speak.”
Lorelei forced herself to take another deep breath. Her corset was unbearably snug. “My lord, perhaps you’d best give me the entire explanation. Starting with Miss Elvins.”
The grimace returned. “Once we entered the house, I had Mrs. Metzger attend Miss Elvins in the kitchen. Once she was out of hearing distance, the girls had plenty to say.”
“I suppose it had something to do with Maudsley’s lack of discretion.”
“Yes. But I fear there was something else.”
“I hesitate to even inquire,” she whispered.
“Yes, and as much as I regret exposing you to such horrific information, I feel you should be informed.” His tone was as dark as the sky outside.
