Harlowe’s head snapped back, his gaze colliding with Adrian’s. “That’s who has her?”
“You know him?”
“Not personally, but I’ve heard of him.” Harlowe scoffed. “I’m guessing her abduction has something to do with you.”
The skin across Adrian’s shoulders tightened. “Why would you suppose that?”
“Because he’s exactly the sort of man you or your father would have had dealings with in the past.” One raised eyebrow demanded an answer.
Adrian was beginning to wish he’d ended this conversation sooner. He stared at Harlowe and finally told him, “His father may have died at my hands.”
Incredulity widened Harlowe’s gaze for a second before a bit of broken off laughter escaped him. “And you have the gall to accuse me of putting your wife in danger?”
“The situations are entirely different,” Adrian snapped, hands balling into fists. “You chose to send her into hazardous situations. What I did was incidental. It happened a decade ago. Long before she and I ever met.”
Harlowe sighed, then pinched the bridge of his nose and appeared to massage the corners of his eyes. When he met Adrian’s gaze next, he appeared more relaxed — more ready to work toward a solution together.
His next words confirmed this. “What do you propose we do?”
“I don’t know. I’ve searched the entire area surrounding Duke Street. I’ve knocked on doors and spoken with anyone who might have seen what happened. Only one witness has been found so far. Her account matched my coach driver’s and told me that the carriage carrying Samantha was headed toward Oxford Street, but that doesn’t help much.”
He dropped into one of the armchairs. The weight of failure and hopelessness bore down upon him with unrelenting force. “I’ve met with my associates and have told them to ask around. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find someone with useful information to share — someone who saw Samantha after she was abducted.”
“I’ll have Tara and Holly check the docks. There are numerous warehouses there. Ships too. If I were to kidnap someone, that’s probably where I’d take them.”
He made a valid point. “Thank you.”
“Besides that, I suppose we wait.” There was a pause, and then Harlowe said, “You ought to get some rest.”
Adrian scoffed. Was the man demented? “My wife is missing. That bloody Irishman might be torturing her as we speak, and you want me to climb into my comfortable bed and sleep?”
“You’ll be no use to her if you’re over-exhausted, and I’m guessing you’ve been awake for thirty hours by now.”
“Thirty-four, to be precise.”
Harlowe made a throaty sound and prepared to take his leave. “You’ll be no good to her if your reflexes are lax. Once you find her location and launch a rescue, you’ll need to be at the top of your game.”
It incensed him how right Harlowe was, but there was no getting around the fact that his vision was starting to blur and that he was struggling to think straight.
A knock at the door brought Elks into the room. He was followed by a maid who carried a tray containing what smelled like a hearty meal.
“This just arrived,” Elks said while the maid set the tray on the table. He handed Adrian a missive.
Adrian took it and tore the seal while Elks and the maid departed. He unfolded the paper and read the few lines. A flat feeling settled deep in his gut and he looked to Harlowe. “None of my contacts have turned up anything yet, but they’ll keep trying.”
“I’ll do the same and keep you apprised. In the meantime, eat and sleep.”
Adrian only nodded and Harlowe left. The sound of the front door opening and closing echoed around Adrian. He glanced at the tray the maid had brought and his stomach rumbled. When had he last eaten? He couldn’t recall and was suddenly ravenous.
He repositioned himself so it would be easier to reach the tray, then took a bit of the meatloaf Cook had prepared. Delicious. The potatoes were good too, especially with the spiced gravy. He ate until there was nothing left, then sank against his chair.
Where are you?
He felt as though he ought to be able to sense her location.
Harlowe’s suggestion that she could be at the docks had merit. A boat would make an especially fine spot since it could be easily moved. In which case, she might not be in London any longer. Hell, even the carriage could have taken her out of the city.
No. She had to be close. O’Leary’s motive had to be vengeance.
