“Woman,” he pleaded.
“Unbutton your fall, else answer the question truthfully. Thatishow this game works, is it not?”
Harris stared at the jezebel he’d wrought by his own perverse making and swore effusively in his head. Alas, neither pride nor prick would grant him leeway. He unbuttoned his fall, revealing just how much her words aroused him.
Miss Li had listened intently to Elizabeth’s tale before she offered her sober advice. “If you’ve still no word of Jasper once you return home, Elizabeth, you must immediately take action. Do not underestimate Finch. Start your search where you believe your husband last went, at your father’s house, not herewith me. But take men with you for protection. Do not travel unaccompanied. The bitterness between Jasper and Finch runs deep. That man will use whatever means he has to strike not only at your husband and your sister, but at you too.”
Elizabeth’s hopes sank.
“And if Jasper has not returned”—Li gripped Elizabeth’s hand—“send word to me at once. The Duke of Allendale has left for Cumberland, but there are others here in London, friends to both myself and your husband, who will help.”
Elizabeth suddenly wished it were some rival whore she needed to battle for her husband’s attention, rather than this dastardly villain Finch. She squeezed Li’s hand, then nearly ran to the phaeton, driving straight to her father’s house.
There disaster greeted her: Furniture was overturned and papers scattered all about. Shattered china littered the floor alongside drapes ripped from windows. The house had been shabby for years, but carnage such as this violated all that was decent.
Elizabeth’s blood ran cold.
Milton’s man, Marty, approached her in the foyer, but before he could utter a word, her father appeared, wringing his hands. “Oh, Lizzie, it is just terrible! Terrible, what has happened!”
“Papa—”
“Justlookwhat they have done to our home! Everything my wives treasured, all shattered, destroyed!”
Elizabeth’s irritation mounted. “Papa, it is terrible, yes, but tell me?—”
“Every treasured wedding gift now?—”
“Father!” Elizabeth barked. “Tell me what, exactly, has happened.”
He continued his lament. “Unthinkable that someone should be so?—”
“Who?” She gripped his shoulders to shake sense into him. “Whois responsible for this?”
He stared blankly at her. “Why, that’s just it, Lizzie. I’ve no idea why anyone should wish to do this.”
She gave up and searched for Marty. What she found, instead, was a household huddled inside the kitchen, Cook attempting to hush her scullery’s soft weeping. Staff rose as one, chairs scraping the floor, the instant they saw Elizabeth.
“Miss Lizzie!” Cook discarded the maid to press Elizabeth to her breast. “Thank heavens you’ve come.”
“Tell me what has happened. Papa is incoherent.”
Marty stepped forward, looking grim. “A word in private first, ma’am?”
Elizabeth nicked her head. “Cook, put the kettle on. I’ll be but a minute.” She followed Marty out into the same courtyard where her husband had once neatly tossed a butcher—a lifetime ago.
“Ma’am.” Marty lowered his voice. “Finch sent men t’ rough up the place, lookin’ fer somethin’ or someone, an’ I fear they may’ve found ’im.”
“What do you mean, found him? Found whom?”
“Master Milton, ma’am.”
She shook her head. Impossible.
“Took Ginny too, ma’am.”
“Took?” Elizabeth did not believe his words. “Took Ginny where? Where is the Baron?”
“Dunno, ma’am. We were locked up all night, only managed t’ break down the cellar door an hour ago. I were about t’ run an’ fetch yer, ma’am. No idea where Ginny were took, nor Jasp. Know only as I heard yer lady’s maid tryin’ to sweet talk ’im before she fell silent.”
