“Of course.” She paced the room. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Mayweather? Was he in the room before you left?”
“No. He wasn’t. And before you ask, yes. He would be capable of what you are thinking.” He scowled. “If he has ruined her, I will convince him to do the honorable thing.”
Saffron resisted the urge to retort that Leo had done his own share of ruining quite recently and had so far shown no intention of doing the “honorable thing.”
A soft knock at the door made them both jump.
“Hide!” Leo hissed as the doorknob turned.
She ducked beneath the desk. A whispered exchange occurred, too quiet for her to follow. She carefully peeked around the side of the desk to see a footman slipping back out the door.
She scrambled to her feet. “Well?”
Leo’s look of relief salved her panicked heart before he even responded. “There are no carriages or horses missing. Wherever your sister is, she must still be on the grounds.”
Saffron slumped forward and splayed her hands on the desk. “I feel like a governess with a wayward charge. Perhaps I should check the nursery next.”
“Or the gardens,” he said, tugging at his cravat, which was significantly longer on one side than the other.
Stepping up to him, she pushed his hands away from his throat. “Stop that. You’re only making it worse.” She unwound the soft fabric and then looped it around his neck. “We need tothink about this logically. If you were the duke, where would you take Angelica?”
He crossed his arms. “Bed.”
She jabbed him in the throat with a pinky. “Do not even joke.” She shuddered at the possibility. The only thing keeping her from a complete loss of control was the fact that Mr. Mayweather had expressed a fondness for Angelica. She had to believe that meant he would not do anything that would risk her reputation.
She stepped back to examine her work. The folds in the neckcloth were not even. She undid her work, then formed a knot with the ends of the cravat, tucking the extra fabric beneath his vest. “You know this property. Where would he take her?”
Leo touched his fingers to his neck, pulling the fabric to the side. “Have you tried the library?”
She sighed. “Of course I checked the library. Mr. Mayweather is smarter than that. He would have taken her somewhere they would not be interrupted.” She returned to her pacing. “Discussion is pointless. Return to the ballroom and tell everyone who asks that Angelica accompanied my aunt to her room. I will find a maid and begin searching the servants’ quarters.”
Leo took her hand and kissed her fingers before she pulled them away. “I will do as you ask, fair maiden.”
*
Saffron’s heart thunderedin her ears like a stampeding racehorse as she flitted from one cold, dark room to the next, hissing her sister’s name.
Where the devil could she be?
The Briarwood estate was vast, but she was certain she had searched at least half of it in the hour since leaving Leo’s side.Her thighs ached, and there was a burning in her heel that was the precursor of a blister.
Finally, she struck some luck when she overheard a trio of servants gossiping in a stairwell.
“The poor dear was prostrate,” a maid whispered. “I was doing dishes in the kitchen and heard her crying.”
A boy wearing the livery of a stablehand shook his head. “A right shame.”
Saffron grabbed the maid by the arm, causing the girl to shriek.
“Where did you see the girl?” Saffron demanded.
“N-Near the kitchen,” the maid stammered.
Saffron raced for the room, shoving past a shocked Mr. Sinclair. Nothing mattered in that moment but ensuring her sister was safe.
At last, she found the door the maid had mentioned and threw it open, fully expecting to see Angelica sprawled on the floor, or wrapped in Mr. Mayweather’s embrace, but she was confronted with nothingness. A dark, empty room.
No. Not empty.
