Lady Whitby’s voice dropped as if she realized the import of this conversation. “I do not know where she is.” She took a cautious glance around. It would not do for word of the missing Elise to spread through theton, and half of the most rabid gossips were inside Harding Howell’s looking at gloves.
“When we talked at the musicale,” Lady Whitby confided, “I told her she needed to repair matters between the two of you. I have my own thoughts about what happened. I understand why Elise would find her circumstances difficult. However, sometimes in life, we must accept what we do not like. That is what I told her when she asked if she could count upon my hospitality again.”
“We did talk a bit,” Dara said. “Michael and I both thought that matters were repaired between us.” Or had they assumed they were because,well, there was nothing that could be done? As a young unmarried woman, Elise needed to live with her family.
“Obviously she did not agree.” Her ladyship narrowed her eyes. “Therefore, the question is, where is she? And is she merely hiding—which, given Elise’s strong nature, could be possible? Or is she indanger?”
Dara felt her heart clutch in her chest. She had been certain that Elise was with Lady Whitby, that she had been nurturing her anger, and that all would eventually be well.
But danger?
She desperately searched her mind, trying to remember exactly when she had noticed Elise missing. “She said she was going to a salon you were holding Monday... the afternoon she didn’t come home.” However, had Dara seen her that morning? Life had been so busy lately.
“That was almost two full days ago.” Lady Whitby clucked her disapproval. Her coach pulled up beside them. A footman jumped down to open the door, heedless that the vehicle was blocking traffic. He ignored the shouts of those trying to pass by. However, Lady Whitby did not climb in. “We must find her. Where would she have gone?”
Where indeed?
“I need to speak to Gwendolyn.” Now it was Dara who wished to be away. She took a step toward the shop but paused to say, “Thank you for giving me a moment of your time, my lady.I—” She stopped, her throat closing as her mind leaped to all the evils that could have befallen her sister. Elise was the family’s golden beauty. Men coveted her. Gwendolyn and Dara had always warned her to be careful. “I must speak to my husband.”
“Please, let me know if there is anything I may do to help,” Lady Whitby said.
Dara mutely turned and walked into the shop. Gwendolyn had found a pair of gloves she liked. She was the tallest of the sisters with black hair and golden brown eyes that seemed to look right into the heart of a person. The clerk was fawning all over her. “I shall have them delivered to you later. I will bring them myself,” he assured her.
“How kind of you.”
The clerk blushed at the simple compliment.
Dara touched Gwendolyn’s elbow and whispered, “We need to leave.” Gwennie was absolutely the sweetest soul Dara knew. The news about Elise would distress her.
“Do we? I had hopes of stopping...” Gwendolyn’s voice trailed off. “Is everything well with you?”
Of course Gwendolyn would notice that Dara was upset.
But the idea of being ill was a good one. “I’m not feeling quite the thing. Shall we depart?”
“Yes, yes.” Gwendolyn gave the clerk one last smile and they were out the door.
On the street, Dara began telling Gwendolyn of her alarming conversation with Lady Whitby. Both of the sisters had assumed Elise had been with her friend. Now they experienced terrible guilt.
Less than fifteen minutes later, they were crowded into the room Michael used for his study, telling him of their concerns.
He was equally alarmed. “Let us search her room for clues.”
But they found nothing. Even her valise was stored away where she kept it. It was as if Elise had disappeared, and Dara was distraught.
Their butler, Herald, informed them that a clerk from Harding Howell and Company had arrived with a package. Gwendolyn was annoyed, but she understood her obligation.
“I need to give him a few coins for his effort,” she said apologetically to Michael and Dara. “You two, keep thinking. One of us must remember something Elise said or what she could be about.” She left the room.
“If she isn’t kidnapped,” Dara tagged on darkly, speaking her fears aloud to her husband.
“I’ll send for a runner,” he announced. “We must make inquiries outside of our household.”
Dara’s stomach knotted in worry and fear. She had heard mention that there were slavers who stole white women and sold them to far-off lands. Was Elise trapped in the belly of some moldy ship on her way to be basely used—
“Dara.” Michael’s voice cut through her fretting. “Don’t leap to conclusions. Not yet.”
“I’m just so afraid. Michael, and it’s my fault—”
