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GREYSON

It was mid-afternoon when I arrived at Claire’s townhouse. I wasn’t surprised to learn she’d gone to the school today. I considered tracking her down there, but the conversation we needed to have was best done in private.

I wandered to the small library at the back of the house, smiling as I remembered how excited Claire had been to see this room. I couldn’t help looking forward to seeing how she’d react to the library at my estate.

When the clock struck six, I began to grow concerned. Claire would have no reason to stay at the school this late, but still I waited. At eight, I knew something was wrong. I hadn’t heard about any riots taking place in this part of town, but there was always a first time. People were still protesting the King’s abhorrent behavior toward the Queen, and it was a very real possibility that Claire might have gotten caught up in one of those protests.

I made my way to the school on foot. This is how Claire would have traveled since it was only a 10-minute walk. My gaze swept the streets for any indication that a riot had taken place.

I tried to convince myself I was overreacting, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling that something had happened to her, and with each passing minute, my concern deepened.

By the time I arrived at the school, I had to take several deep breaths. Much as I wanted to storm into the school and start making demands, I needed to keep my wits about me. My appearance here tonight would already threaten my anonymity. Mr. Grey never wore silk waistcoats, nor did he dress in the height of fashion. But I couldn’t bring myself to care about that. Finding Claire and ensuring she was safe was all that mattered.

The door to the school was locked, and I had to pound quite loudly before anyone opened it. I made a mental note to carry a key to the school with me at all times.

Mrs. Atkinson stood in the doorway, surprised to see me. And then her gaze swept over my form, a small furrow forming between her brows.

“Mr. Grey, what could possibly have brought you here at such a late hour? The children are preparing for bed.”

I could tell by the way she was holding her hands clasped together at her waist that her appearance of polite surprise was a mask.

“You may call me Lord Greyson,” I said, taking satisfaction from the way her face paled.

Good. She knew, then, that my father had founded this school. And if she’d heard anything about me, she’d know I wouldn’t easily be put off.

“I’m here because Miss Sullivan has gone missing.”

Her eyes shifted to one side, and I could almost see her mind working through the excuses she could use to placate my concern.

When she met my eyes again, her expression was suspiciously neutral. “She was here earlier today, yes, but that was hours ago. I don’t know where she is now.” She sniffed. “I’m surprised you don’t already know her whereabouts.”

I frowned. “Have a care how you speak about her. We both know I can have you replaced on a moment’s notice.”

She stiffened. “I know about your reputation and that of the other Legends,” she said, her voice twisting on the title, “but I do not condone you seducing the young women who give of their time so generously. You are free to look around, of course, but you will find that Miss Sullivan isn’t present. I don’t know where she is, nor do I care. Good day, my lord.”

She turned, her posture stiff, and left me waiting in the doorway.

She was lying—I could feel it in my gut—but about what?

And so I did exactly what she’d suggested, moving from room to room on the first floor. Each one was empty until I reached the library. I remembered the woman sitting at a table, reading silently, as the one I’d almost hired as headmistress of the school. Something was telling me it had been a mistake not to do so.

“Miss Billingsley,” I said, bowing. “Please excuse the lateness of the hour, but I am here on behalf of Miss Sullivan’s family. She has not returned home tonight, and the last anyone saw of her, she was coming to the school.”

Miss Billingsley stood. “Please come in, Lord Greyson.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that she knew who I was, but she clearly hadn’t shared that information with the headmistress.

She crossed to the door and closed it. When she turned to face me, I couldn’t help but notice the way she was clasping her hands together, the knuckles white.

“The girls were adopted today. Hope and Grace. Claire had taken a great liking to them and they to her.”

I nodded. “She’s spoken about them.”

“Mrs. Atkinson arranged for their placement, but it was very secretive, not at all like the other placements we’ve had at the school. Claire snuck into Mrs. Atkinson’s office and found the address of the woman who’d adopted them. I’ve been hoping that everything was fine and that she returned home afterward, but the way Mrs. Atkinson has been behaving and learning now that no one has seen Claire…” Her words were coming quickly, her anxiety growing. “I’m very concerned about what the headmistress is hiding.”

I closed my eyes, struggling to control my fear. Of course Claire would think nothing of storming after the girls to ensure nothing was amiss. It stung that she hadn’t reached out to me, but given the way I’d tried to distance myself from her, I wasn’t surprised. The only person I could blame here was me, for being a stubborn fool.

“Thank you for your assistance. Say nothing to the headmistress about our conversation. I will be back within the hour with reinforcements, and then we will find out exactly what is going on. Do you have a key to the front door you can give me? I don’t want to waste time by going home to get mine.”