Thorne sipped at his coffee, biding his time. White’s was quiet at this juncture of the morning. People were still recovering from the different routs, soirees, and musicales they’d attended the night before. He perused theGazette, then theTimes, even resorting to the rags. He dawdled over coddled eggs, bacon, and kippers. Finally, at ten he rose to his feet, took his hat and walking stick and strode back to Grosvenor Square prepared to have his say with the Dowager Duchess of Lewkes.
“Her grace is not receiving at this time,” the butler told him.
“Then Iwillsee Lady Lorelei.”
The butler opened his mouth to refute Thorne, but Thorne held up his hand, palm out, cutting him off.
“Right. Now.”
The butler let out a resigned sigh. “Lady Lorelei is not in at the moment.”
Another thread of the hovering guillotine snapped free. “I see. And where, precisely, is she at ten in the morning? And before you make the unwise decision of lying to me, let me tell you, I shall shout my concern for the woman from the rooftops, starting with the stoop on which I presently occupy.”
Abject dread paled the man’s features.
Thorne had no care who heard him. The duchess would see him. Would acknowledge him. Would listen to him. He had every intention of marrying Lorelei himself.
“You’d best come in, my lord. I’ll inform her grace of your presence.”
The butler disappeared behind the drawing room door, leaving Thorne to survey the roses he’d sent that littered the foyer. He bent down and retrieved one of the petals and brushed his thumb over its velvety softness that felt remarkably like Lorelei’s lips.
“She’ll see you, my lord.”
Thorne strode into the drawing room. The duchess was so pale, Thorne feared she was on her last breath. “I see Lorelei spoke the truth regarding your wellbeing, your grace. My apologies for disturbing you.”
A coughing seizure took hold her of her.
He moved quickly, pouring a cup of tea, and dousing it with brandy. He lowered beside her and placed the cup within her cold hands, his own wrapped about hers so nothing spilled. Also wrapped about her fingers was the gold chain that led to Lorelei’s locket. He brought the tea to her thin lips.
Her coughing bout eased.
“Where is she, your grace?”
“I don’t know. Lady Maudsley’s I imagine.”
That was a terrifying thought. “I spoke to Lady Maudsley last night. She said she sent Lorelei home in her carriage. What of Lord Harlowe?”
“He is missing as well. She coddles that boy to the extreme.”
“Why did she run, your grace? Lorelei seemed to care greatly for you.”
“That boy made her do it. He had it in for me.”
“I sincerely doubt that is the case,” he said. “He seems a bright chap. Just young. I’ll ask again, where is she?” He set her cup on the low table and moved to another chair, assessing her.
She looked down at the locket, and he was shocked to see tears pooling in eyes that had appeared sharp and cunning only two nights ago but were now fogged. She lifted the gold chain, setting the locket dangling between them. “She left this in place of taking a few coins she’d found. I suspect she and that delinquent brother of hers are making their way back to Spixworth Hall.”
“A three days’ journey from here?” Fear and outrage simmered beneath his skin. He inhaled a steadying breath. Anything could happen to a young woman traveling alone with a young boy. “That is not an answer to my question.”
“No man will have her after this stunt she’s pulled.”
“You’re wrong, your grace. I’ll not only have her, but I’ll also care for her brother.” He stood up, took some coin from his pocket. “How much did she take from you?”
“Nothing I couldn’t afford. I just wanted to see her settled before… before—” Another coughing fit overtook her. She handed him the locket. “Get this back to her,” she choked out. “It was a fool thing she did, if she even makes it all the way to Spixworth.”
The last piece of rope broke, the guillotine fell. His exact worry.
Thorne had one last stop before retrieving his horse. The Maudsley residence had a stable attached which was exactly where Thorne located Lady Maudsley’s driver from the night before.
