Chapter 12
Shaldon sat down heavily.
“Bolted.” Kincaid leaned a hand on the desk.
“She said she was visiting Cecilia Broadmoor in Yorkshire. But Cecilia married some time ago and the couple were posted to India. And the Broadmoors’ estate is in—”
“Lincolnshire.” Shaldon’s dark gaze dropped to the sheaf of papers in front of him. “How careless of her.”
Careless? Did he not mean thoughtless? Or reckless?
He sighed. “Well, we know where she’s gone.”
“I can leave in less than an hour,” Kincaid said.
Shaldon shoved the papers into a file. “I’ll go also.”
Her heart accelerated. He had important obligations here. Perry must indeed be in danger. “You have the coronation, my lord.”
His dark eyes gleamed. “Matters of state, Jane. The King will understand.”
“Carriage or horseback?” Kincaid asked.
“Horseback, I think.”
“I’ll meet you in the stables.” Kincaid left.
The rapid-fire arrangements made her head spin. She turned to follow Kincaid.
“Jane.” Shaldon’s voice stopped her.
“Tell me. You seem to know everyone. I recall that you mentioned the name of a baronet from near Scarborough?”
A baronet. Near Scarborough. She frowned and then immediately caught herself. Frowning only deepened the lines between her eyebrows.
Shedidrecall a baronet with an estate near Scarborough. “Sir Richard Fenwick.” A tall fellow with an ancient holding rumored to be falling down. A bit of a hermit, he was. She conjured up a face from a ball many, many years ago—dark hair, sullen eyes.
And she’d mentioned him when Lady Perry asked Jane to share all she knew about Charley and Graciela’s prospective neighbors.
Oh dear. “Seldom in London, but I heard he was up from the country a few months ago.”
His gaze held hers.
Fenwick. The Baronet was of an age with Shaldon, but as far as she knew he only moldered along on his estate near Scarborough and…
An old rumor came to her: Fenwick had offered for Lady Shaldon, back when she had been Felicity Landers. Felicity’s grandfather had spotted him for a fortune hunter and sent him packing, and a short while later, the match with Shaldon’s elder brother was announced. When the brother died before the wedding, the title and the fiancée passed to the current earl.
A fluttering started in her chest, just like the one she’d felt the morning Sirena had disappeared. She eased down into the chair. “How may I help, Shaldon? You might as well put your bothersome house guest to good use.”
“You are not a bit bothersome, Jane. Would you fancy a trip to the coast? Or are you desperate to attend the coronation parties?”
The pomp and ceremony of the crowning had only been an excuse for her to come up to London last winter. She had business in London to settle, and soon.
And yet, and yet…Shaldon’s hospitality had allowed her much needed economies, and she was in truth, grateful. Plus, in the past months she had grown fond of Lady Perry, and the young woman might truly be in danger.
“I fear I’m not up to travel by horseback. Might I take one of your traveling chaises, Shaldon?”
The smile lighting his face took years off him.
