He sought Henrietta in her bedchamber where her maid packed her trunk. Hetta’s wan face bothered him, and he struggled against the need to reassure her, to tell her that Christian still loved her. Damn the man! Why must he be so noble? “Can you come to my bedchamber? I have something to ask you.”
“Yes, Papa.”
When she entered, he turned from the window. “Tell me what happened on Ramsbotham’s boat. Everything.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I suffered from seasickness and stayed in the cabin most of the time.”
“What about Verity?”
Her face flushed. “She had to manage that awful man alone.”
“How did she do that?”
“I... I don’t know.” Henrietta studied the tip of her buckled shoe. “Something happened that upset her.”
“You have no idea what it was?” Alarm filled her eyes at the sound of his voice, roughened with anger and guilt. Because of him, Verity and Henrietta had been in the clutches of that scoundrel.
“I’m not sure. Verity was gone during the night.”
“She went to his cabin?”
“To appease him, I suspect. I’ve considered it since I came home. Something she said about my page costume not fooling men. I’m positive that whatever she did was to protect me.” Her cheeks reddened. “He showed some interest in me, and we were at his mercy.” Her green eyes beseeched him. “There could be no other reason, for she loves you, she told me so.”
“Does she?” Anthony asked dryly, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth. Henrietta wouldn’t lie to him. Did Verity go to that obnoxious Ramsbotham willingly? He found himself suspicious. Very suspicious indeed. Despite what she had said. He had to learn the truth, and that meant confronting Verity and demanding an explanation.
Hetta put a hand to her mouth. “Have I said too much? I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.”
He drew her into a hug. “No, sweetheart. You’ve done the right thing.”
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
“The next morning, I found an empty bottle in the pocket of her gown. I’m sure it was laudanum.”
“Did you indeed?”Might she have drugged him?
“Are we going to the country today?”
Anthony shook his head as he pulled on his gloves. “Tomorrow, Hetta. I have to go out.”
She smiled, looking reassured. “Very well, Papa. Give Verity my love too.”
He was halfway down the stairs when her words penetrated the heated fog of his mind. Henrietta had grown to love Verity too. That was not surprising. And as pleasing as that was, it did little to lessen his anguish.
On the way to the hotel, his thoughts darkened. Had Ramsbotham forced her by threating to choose Henrietta instead? If so, he was a dead man. But that bottle… He snatched at the possibility it presented like a drowning man.
Anthony crossed the foyer in a dangerous mood. He was close to losing control. He’d loved his wife, but he’d never suffered such passionate torment. He ran up the stairs to Verity’s rooms and knocked.
There was no answer. She was there; she always rested between performances. He banged, called her name. Patrons would soon appear to investigate.
Finally, Verity opened the door. She was dressed in a filmy negligee the lavender gray of a misty morning. “I thought this was at an end. I cannot keep doing it, Anthony.”
Anthony strode into the room. “I’ve had an interesting day, Verity. I ran into the Marquess of Ramsbotham at my club.”
“Oh!” Verity put her hands to her cheeks.
His anger, which had never been directed at her, vanished, like water on a fire. “My love, I have a fair idea what happened on his boat, but I want you to tell me the whole of it.”
