Victor rolled his eyes, though amusement tugged faintly at his mouth. They reached the foyer where the morning light streamed through the tall windows and glinted across the marble floor. Mr. Baxter stood waiting near the front doors with his usual calm expression, though Victor immediately noticed something tense about the butler’s posture. It was subtle, but enough to put Victor instantly on edge.
“Your Grace,” Baxter said with a bow. “Lord Lionel.”
Lionel reached for his hat. “I ought to depart before grandmother attempts to force me into another tea service.”
“A tragic fate,” Victor replied dryly.
Baxter cleared his throat politely. “My lord, before you leave, it may be wise to avoid Saville Road today.”
Victor frowned. “Why?”
“One of the merchant deliverers arrived moments ago with word of a carriage accident in that part of London, Your Grace. Traffic has apparently come to a complete standstill.”
The world seemed to stop.
Victor barely had time to process the words before a sharp crash sounded behind him. He spun at once to find Elizabeth standing near the drawing room entrance, one trembling hand pressed against the wall beside a shattered porcelain teacup. The fragments scattered across the polished floor at her feet. Her face had gone terribly pale beneath the lace of her cap.
“Grandmother?” Victor said sharply. “What is wrong?”
Elizabeth stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Charlotte.”
A violent chill swept through his body.
“She was going shopping with her sisters today,” Elizabeth whispered. “Saville Road.”
Victor’s stomach dropped so hard. For one dreadful instant he could not breathe. All he could see in his mind was twisted wood, terrified horses, shattered glass, and Charlotte trapped somewhere amidst it all. His pulse roared painfully in his ears.
No.
Without another word, Victor turned and stormed toward the front doors.
Lionel called after him immediately. “Victor!”
But Victor barely heard him. He snatched his gloves from the foyer table with shaking hands and strode outside so quickly that Baxter had to leap aside to avoid being struck by the opening door. The cold morning air hit his face harshly, but it did nothing to calm the panic clawing through him. Stable boys startled as the duke crossed the courtyard at nearly a run.
“Your Grace?” one called nervously.
“My horse,” Victor barked. “Now.”
The groom hurried at once whilst Victor paced furiously beside the mounting block. Every second felt unbearable. Charlotte had been frightened merely seeing crowded streets from inside a safe carriage.
Dear God, if she had truly been involved in an accident…
No. He refused to finish that thought.
Lionel appeared, slightly breathless from hurrying after him. “Victor, calm yourself.”
“I will not.”
“You do not even know whether she was involved.”
Victor rounded on him with wild eyes. “And what if she was?”
Lionel faltered briefly at the raw terror in his brother’s voice. Victor himself barely recognized it. His hands shook violently as the groom finally brought his black horse forward. He mounted before the animal had even fully halted.
“Victor,” Lionel called again, more firmly this time. “You cannot ride through London like a madman.”
Victor gripped the reins tightly. “Watch me.”
