“Do sit down, Hetty. I declare you have worn a path in my carpet.”
Hetty sat but remained on the edge of her chair, listening for the sound of horses clattering over the cobbles.
An hour passed.
She rubbed her arms. “I’m afraid something has happened, Aunt.”
“What can befall his lordship in a short carriage ride through Mayfair?”
“What if he’s been hurt?”
“Someone would send word.”
“What if Lady Georgina has beguiled him?”
“Beguiled by two different women within a few days? I doubt he’s that susceptible,” her aunt said.
Another hour passed with little said. Only the ticking of the longcase clock broke the silence.
It was after midnight when Hetty finally consented to retire. She lay stiffly in bed while jumbled thoughts crowded her mind. Guy might not tell her everything, but she’d never caught him in a lie. Nor was he a coward. If he’d decided he’d rather court Lady Georgina, he would tell her so. She thought about his passionate kisses and his declaration that she was the only one he would consider marrying. He could not have changed his mind within a few days, could he?
She punched her pillow and rolled onto her side as worry turned to anger. She’d asked him several times about his past, but he’d evaded her questions. Perhaps she’d been fooling herself and didn’t know him at all. She turned over and tucked her hand under the pillow, staring blindly into the darkness. That wasn’t true. She did know him, and the realization made her shudder with fear.
After hours of anguish, Hetty dropped into an exhausted sleep only to wake again before dawn.
Light filtered through a gap in the curtains and traffic rumbled through the streets. She heard the servants moving about.
Hetty sat up. Someone had knocked at the door.
Chapter Seventeen
At the loudrap of the knocker, Hetty, her heart racing, rushed down the stairs, praying it was Guy. She reached the entry hall as the maid admitted Lord Strathairn.
“I apologize for calling at cock’s crow, Miss Cavendish,” he said. “But I wonder if you have any notion as to Lord Fortescue’s whereabouts?”
His words produced a shudder of fear. She clutched her dressing gown and shook her head, her plait swinging. “I don’t. You’d best come into the parlor, Lord Strathairn.”
The big man followed her inside. Hetty sat before her knees gave way. Still holding his hat, he perched on the edge of a chair as if ready to leap up again.
“Lord Fortescue was to escort my aunt and me to a rout last evening, but he didn’t arrive.” She twisted her fingers. “Nor did he send word.”
As he took this in, he frowned. “Guy attended a ball with Lady Georgina and me. He went missing during the evening.” He looked down at the hat he held in his hands. “I didn’t worry at first. I have not known him long but suspected, well, that a lady might be involved.” His lashes shuttered his eyes, making her wonder what he wasn’t telling her.
“A lady?”
“I expected it to be you, Miss Cavendish, for Guy seems single-minded in that respect. When he did not return last night, I grew alarmed.” He shrugged. “Hence my unpardonable appearance on your doorstep before breakfast.”
Hetty clutched the arm of the sofa. “He disappeared in the middle of a ball?”
“Yes. Held at the home of Lord and Lady Taylor at Hampstead. No one remembers seeing him again after he danced with my sister.”
Guy danced with Georgina! Strathairn’s words rang warning bells in her mind. She shook her head and tried to focus on what was important. “And your sister returned home with you?”
“Yes.” His intelligent gray eyes studied her. “Georgina spent the rest of the evening dancing with a gentleman. They set thetonon its ear, I might add.” He stood as if to leave. “Guy didn’t mention returning to his estate?”
“If he was called back to Rosecroft Hall, he would have sent word. It is very unlike him to let my aunt and me down.”
“I apologize for worrying you. I’ll obtain the guest list from Lady Taylor. Someone might have learned of his direction.”
