Her eyes shot to his. “Pardon?”
“The night Liverpool sent the note to me via Reg at the theater He asked, no, demanded, I meet him at Thatched House Tavern. He told me that you were involved with a young woman’s disappearance.”
Gabby’s insides turned to ice. “Disappearance,” she repeated. “Did he believe her murdered?”
His hand tapped against his thigh, and he shifted his gaze out the window. “I don’t know.” It thumped to a stop. “Ryleigh brought up an interesting point regarding Liverpool’s interest in a person missing from the theater. A woman, no less.”
Gabby tilted her head at that bit of information. “That is curious. Who is this paragon anyway?”
“Miss Dinah Darby.”
Gabby’s mouth gaped. She snapped her mouth shut. “Er, what interest would the Prime Minister have in a young woman of such low class? Especially if she wasn’t murdered.”
His gaze shot to hers. “What exactly do you mean ‘wasn’t murdered’? What is it you are keeping from me now, Gabriella?” He leaned forward and took her hands in his, knocking her reticule off her lap and clinking against the wood base of the seat. His brows lifted.
She jerked her hands from his and settled her purse back in her lap. “Well,” she huffed, “if you must know—” There was obviously no reason to lie now. “Rebecca and I have been assisting several young women. Miss Darby is with child and was beaten to within an inch of her life. She has a nice quiet position in the country now.”
“And where might that be?”
“Doncaster. She is a scullery maid.”
“What?” His outburst bounded against the carriage walls, startling her.
“Where else was I to send her? She was in dire need. Did you not hear me say, she’d been beaten to within an inch of her life? Honestly, Huntley, we must do something about your auditory skills. I’m worried for you.”
His jaw tensed under the compression of his lips. She couldn’t read the internal workings of his mind, but after a moment, his jaw loosened. “I suppose we shall be checking on her come Christmastide?” he finally said in a wry voice that eased her misgivings.
She patted his knee. “You suppose correctly.”
He took her by the upper arms and shook her. Nothing violent, but his restraint was impressive. “Gabriella, do you realize how dangerous your actions? I saw you the other night.”
“Saw me?” The look in his eye left her dazed. The anger, the concern.
“On your way back to our box. You practically blended in with the décor. I vow, if it hadn’t been for the low cut of your gown, I would not have seen you at all. I’ve half a mind to lock you in your chamber,” he finished on an exasperated breath.
She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Huntley. As sweet as that is, it would never work—”
“Yes,” he agreed grimly. “Because you could likely pick the lock.”
Exactly what she didn’t wish him to dwell on. She pressed her lips to his. After a second, his own lips molded to hers and he took possession, slipping his tongue between her lips. This was a much better diversion.
Her reticule clunked to the floor again. He pulled away. “And the suspicious clanking in your purse?”
“Money for another young woman in need from the man who assaulted her.” Tears quickly sprung, blurring her vision, but Gabby furiously blinked them away.
“Money?” He frowned. “How much money and from whom?”
She lifted her nose. “Two hundred pounds, and I refused to say from whom it was acquired.”
He took her hands again. “Darling, this is serious business if the prime minister is involved.”
Gabby sniffed her disdain. “I should say so. And I intend to learn exactly why.”
~~~
Once more, James was blindsided by his wife’s no-nonsense pronouncement. “You’ll do no such thing,” he bit out before he could stop himself.
Indignation rippled through the carriage. “Just how do you plan to stop me?”
