As it happened, force turned out to be unnecessary. Vale’s fist hardly had a chance to touch the wood before the door flew open. On the other side stood Eloisa Jarvis, her hair disheveled and her eyes wild.
“Eloisa,” Vale whispered, stunned. “I thought…God, I was terrified you’d been—”
“Sebastian! Thank goodness.” Eloisa grasped his arm and tugged him into the entryway. Ciaran followed, and she slammed and locked the door behind him. “I heard the carriage, and I was afraid you were my father.”
Vale glanced at Ciaran, his expression troubled. “Your father isn’t here, then?”
“No.” Mrs. Jarvis stepped forward, darting a glance behind her as if she were afraid Jarvis would leap from the shadows. “He left in the carriage a while ago.”
Ciaran’s heart sank like a stone in his chest. “Lucy?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Is Lucy here?”
But he already knew the answer. As soon as he’d walked into the bedchamber at the inn and heard the dull thud of his footsteps in the empty room, a part of him knew Jarvis had found her—that he’d taken her. But knowing it was one thing. Hearing Mrs. Jarvis say it aloud was another.
Mrs. Jarvis stared at him, her face going white. “No. I thought…isn’t Lucy with you?”
For one helpless moment, Ciaran let his head drop into his hands. How could he have let this happen? He should have known Jarvis would find a way to track her. Now she was gone, and Ciaran felt as if his chest had been hollowed out—as if a hand had plunged inside him and ripped out his heart.
Mrs. Jarvis was trembling with shock, and Ciaran caught her arm to steady her. It took every bit of his control, but his voice was calm when he asked, “Did Mr. Jarvis tell you where he was going?”
“He didn’t even say hewasgoing, much less where.” Eloisa Jarvis let out a bitter laugh. She wasn’t at all unsteady. Her blue eyes were flashing with fury. “We weren’t in a position to ask him, since he locked us in a bedchamber at the top of the house before he left.”
“Eloisa,” Mrs. Jarvis began, but then she fell silent again, her lips tight. Even she was in no humor to defend her husband.
Vale’s face had turned an ominous shade of red, but when he spoke, his voice was soft, controlled. “Your fatherlocked you up?”
Ciaran darted a glance at Vale, alarm bleeding through his panic. Vale didn’t often lose his temper, but when he did, he didn’t rage or shout. Instead, he went oddly quiet. It was a lucky thing Jarvis wasn’t here, because Vale looked ready to tear the man limb from limb.
“Easy, Vale.”
Ciaran reached out to lay a restraining hand on Vale’s shoulder, but Eloisa Jarvis was already there, speaking in soft, soothing tones to Vale. She cupped his cheeks, cradling his face and whispering to him until gradually Vale’s hectic breaths began to slow. The rigid line of his shoulders relaxed, and his forehead met hers.
Mrs. Jarvis gasped softly, shocked to see her daughter on such intimate terms with the Earl of Vale. After a moment, though, her arm relaxed beneath Ciaran’s fingers, and a tentative smile rose to her lips.
Ciaran left the lovers to their tender moment for as long as he could before clearing his throat. He was happy for Vale, but right now he could think of nothing but Lucy. Jarvis had her, and he was taking her God-knew-where. What if he abandoned her on a remote country road somewhere? Or took her to a place Ciaran would never find her?
What if hehurther?
“Do you have any idea at all where your father’s gone, Miss Jarvis?” Fear made Ciaran’s voice harsher than he’d intended, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. “Forgive me, but we have to find him.”
Eloisa Jarvis looked stricken. “Oh, I don’t know! By the time we got out of the bedchamber he was already gone.”
“How much time has passed since you escaped?” The situation was growing worse with every moment, and Ciaran’s chest was pulling tighter and tighter.
“I—I’m not sure, but perhaps two hours? Our first thought was to go to Sebastian and Lady Felicia in Hanover Square, but then we discovered my father had left in the carriage.” Eloisa raised her face to Vale’s. “We were just trying to decide what to do when you and Mr. Ramsey appeared.”
Vale brushed Eloisa’s hair gently back from her face. “How did you manage to get free from the bedchamber?”
“Did a servant let you out?” Whatever servant had freed them was the one most likely to reveal what they knew about Jarvis’s whereabouts. But Eloisa shook her head, and Ciaran’s heart sank even lower.
“No.” She flushed, and held up her hand. She was clutching a hair pin between her fingers. “I picked the lock.”
Vale blinked. “You know how to pick a lock, Eloisa?”
Eloisa blushed. “Lucy showed me how to do it. She’s, ah…very good at that sort of thing. She picked the lock on my father’s desk.”
Of course, she had, because it was just the sort of thing Lucy would know how to do. For the first time since they’d arrived at Portman Square, hope swept over Ciaran. Lucy was, without question, the most capable woman he’d ever known.
I never needed you to save me, Ciaran.
