Page 39 of Much Ado about a Widow

Jemmy, Lord Brack, took a swallow of coffee in the breakfast room just as Lord Lathbury’s excellent butler placed a silver salver with two letters on it before him.

“Thank you, Smythe.” Jemmy raised his eyebrows at his wife, sitting across the table from him. He waited for the servant to leave, then leaned across the table. “Do you know what that means, my dear?”

Elizabeth, Lady Brack, put a small piece of ham in her mouth and chewed vigorously. Once she swallowed, she smiled at her husband. “I suppose it may mean that you are an amazingly clever gentleman, and all your friends follow your every movement so they may consult you on their personal affairs as well as affairs of state.”

Jemmy laughed and picked up the first letter. “I was going to say it meant everyone had discovered where we are. I had quite looked forward to enjoying the solitude here in Buckinghamshire, just the two of us alone. But I see by the seal this letter is from Father, one of the few people who knew we were here for the wedding.”

“I would hardly say being with a houseful of wedding guests qualifies as alone, my love.” She placed her napkin beside her plate and caught his gaze. “Alone would give us much more time together.” Her voice had changed to sultry tones. “Together as we were earlier this morning.”

“My dear.” Jemmy set the letter down and leaned closer. Since the beginning of her pregnancy, his wife had become even more amorous, especially in the mornings. Not that he was complaining at all. “Are you feeling fatigued, perhaps? Shall I escort you back to our chamber and tuck you into bed? I promise to attend to your every need.”

Laughing, Elizabeth sipped her tea, her dark eyes promising that she would take him up on his offer. “I think I can manage until you’ve read your letters, my love. If you don’t dawdle.”

Eagerly, Jemmy grasped the top letter, heavy cream-colored paper he had recognized on sight, and turned it over, popping the black seal. “I do dread opening this. Missives from Father never bring good news.”

“What ill tiding could he have, my love? He is more than pleased with our marriage now, and with the son I may bear you. Georgie has been a model daughter. What else could be wrong?” She grasped Jemmy’s hands, arresting his opening the blasted letter and sending a wave of desire throughout his body.

Confound it, Father could very well wait. He must tend to his wife’s—and his own—needs immediately. “Elizabeth, why don’t we—”

“I simply wanted to say, don’t borrow trouble, my dear. Believe me, it will take up residence soon enough on its own.” She settled back in her chair, loosening her grip on his hands.

Breathing deeply, to calm himself and refrain from ravishing his wife here on his host’s breakfast table, Jemmy relaxed back in his chair. “I do not tell you enough how much I love you, Elizabeth.” He grasped her hands afresh and raised them to his lips. Their warmth made him tingle.

“You show me how much every chance you get.” Her eyes twinkled. “As I said. Earlier this morning.”

Jemmy groaned as his cock bumped against his breeches, insistent even after their thorough and passionate encounter just after dawn this morning. That vigorous lovemaking probably accounted for his increased appetite just now. He’d been ravenous when he’d come down to breakfast. And still was. “I hope to do so every day—several times every day—for the rest of our lives.” Memory of their tangled sheets this morning spurred him on. “So now, why don’t you allow me to escort you back upstairs?”

Elizabeth tapped the letter with one long, elegant finger. “Your father before pleasure, my dear. What does his letter say?”

Groaning, Jemmy unfolded the thick paper and began to read the severe strokes made by his father’s pen, always pressed deeply into the stationery.

Brack,

I wish to inform you that I have, this instant, been told by Folger, my coachman, that my carriage was overtaken at The Running Horse Inn in Leatherhead, and Georgina and her maid were abducted. Folger insists that he, my groom, and two outriders were accosted, bound and gagged, and left in the woods behind the inn. They were not discovered until the following morning, half frozen, although once they were freed and restored they returned to Blackham immediately with the tale. From your sister I have not heard a word.

In light of these events, I must assume that Georgina, with her unfortunate history of headstrong behavior, has taken it into her head, once again, to disobey me and elope with some new, inappropriate man. If you have communication with her, inform her that I will make good on my promise to cut her off from the family, and treat her as though she were dead and without a farthing.

Yrs,

Blackham

Alarm growing as he read the missive, Jemmy raised his stricken face to Elizabeth.

A puzzled frown on her countenance was turning to an expression of concern. She stopped with her teacup poised inches before her lips. “Jemmy, what is the matter? Is it your father? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jemmy’s heart thumped painfully inside his chest as he expelled the breath he’d been holding while he read his father’s ghastly letter. “My dear, Georgie is missing.”

Elizabeth’s cup rattled into its saucer. “Georgie missing? She can’t be missing. She left here three days ago.”

“She has apparently not arrived at Blackham as was expected. Father tells me his coachman told him Georgie and Clara were abducted at an inn in Leatherhead.” The hearty breakfast he’d just finished had turned to lead in his stomach. “Father assumes she has eloped with someone yet again. If you know anything about her meeting a man, please tell me, my love. My fear for her grows by the minute.”

Shaking her head, Elizabeth looked aghast. “She told me nothing, Jemmy, I swear. Not a word.” His wife’s face had paled, and he raced around the table to put his arm around her. “Perhaps she is simply trying to delay her return to your father’s estate and her wedding to Lord Travers. You know she was most unhappy with the match.”

Gripping Elizabeth’s arm, Jemmy helped her rise. “I do not think so, my love. The carriage was actually stolen, apparently. That does not sound as though she was merely trying to delay her return. Something else is afoot here. But come, you should seek your bed. This shock cannot be good for the child. Georgie has ever had a wild streak in her, and her schemes have almost always come aright in the end.” He clenched his jaw. Wait until he found Georgie. She wouldn’t sit down for a week at least.

Wracking his brain for some clue, some hint from his sister that she had decided to elope again, Jemmy stared at the breakfast table, remembering the last time he’d seen Georgina there. She had been disillusioned but resigned to the marriage with Travers. She wouldn’t have spoken of such a bold move to him certainly, but might have perhaps . . . A completely new idea arose. “Might she have gone to one of her widow friends?”

“My dear, we are all still here.” Elizabeth shook her head. “She would hardly go to Charlotte’s home while she was not in residence.”