She did not sit. Lark stared at her for a long moment, now wondering how Hugh had gotten tangled up with the Earl of Canbury and what his daughter could possibly be doing here. Since she insisted on standing, he remained on his feet as well.
She cleared her throat. “My lord, your name was in an article in theGazetteabout the disappearance of the Duke of Swynford. I hope you won’t think me forward, but I acquired your address because, if you are looking for him, I believe I may have some information.”
Oh, lovely. Canbury was broke, so of course he sent his daughter to sniff out reward money. Lark’s heart fell. For nearly a week, he’d been looking for Hugh and had come up with nothing. Worse, that newspaper article had sent him on more false leads and goose chases than he had imagined possible. It was like Hugh had simply disappeared into thin air. And here was the Earl of Canbury’s daughter to send him on one more.
He tried not to betray any emotion as he spoke. “Indeed, I am looking for him. If you read the article, you know he vanished a week ago.”
“Yes. Who is His Grace to you, if you do not mind my asking?”
Lark was losing patience. What an odd question. “He is a dear friend. We grew up together. I love him like a brother. Please sit and tell your tale, my lady.”
She finally relented and perched herself at the edge of a settee, so he sat in the armchair across from her. She said, “You do not believe my inquiry is genuine.”
“I have spent the last two days speaking to people just like you who claim to have information on Hugh’s whereabouts but are really in search of financial compensation. Some lordling came by yesterday and gave me the address of where to find Swynford, and it turned out to be a brothel. His Grace was not at this brothel. And I saw things I wish I could unsee.”
“I sympathize, my lord. Please be assured that I have no designs on monetary compensation. I had not considered the possibility until just now.”
“Let the chase begin, then,” said Lark. “Please proceed.”
Lady Adele folded her hands neatly over her crossed legs. “Last week, a man was tossed out of a carriage and landed on the street near my home. The man was unconscious and had sustained a serious blow to the head. When he awoke the next morning, he could not recall who he was or where he came from. I’ve been working with him for the last week to try to recover his memories. Although little bits have trickled back, he still cannot recall his name or where he lives.”
And suddenly she had his interest. Lark leaned forward. “A blow to the head, you say?”
“Yes. And now I have reason to believe the man in my house is the Duke of Swynford.”
“How did you arrive at such a conclusion?” Lark didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he believed this woman for some reason.
She produced a reticule deep from within a pocket of her gown. From it, she pulled out several folded sheets of paper. “He believed he owned a signet ring that perhaps his attacker stole. He recalls the ring had these animals on it.” She showed Lark a crude sketch of the Swynford coat of arms, with its boars and lions. Lark was familiar because he had seen it in Hugh’s house and on the doors of his carriages many times. The dowager duchess took great pride in the Swynford name and displayed it wherever possible.
Lady Adele went on, “He also recalls that anSwas inscribed on the ring somewhere, so we deduced that this coat of arms belonged to a family with a name that began withS. I was on Oxford Street today to see a bookseller I know so that I might review a copy ofDebrett’sfor some ideas on any family that might meet these criteria. On my way to the bookshop, I happened to see a drawing of the missing duke in a print shop window. I am fairly certain that the man in my house and the Duke of Swynford are one and the same.”
“That is compelling evidence.” He held up the drawing. “This looks like the Swynford coat of arms. And I have suspected for some time that he was abducted or attacked and did not merely wander off or run off to Scotland to elope, as some have suggested. It is very unlike Hugh… that is, His Grace the Duke, to be anywhere he is not supposed to be.”
“Hugh?”
“That is his name. Hugh Baxter, the twelfth Duke of Swynford.”
The woman smiled to herself. “Hugh. It suits him.”
“I should like to see him right away.”
“Yes, of course. The doctor suggested that being around something familiar might help encourage His Grace’s memory to return, but until today, I had no earthly notion what might be familiar to him. Perhaps seeing a friend would be helpful.”
“If I had more time I’d summon a few of his other friends, but perhaps we will need to introduce him to society a little more slowly.”
“He is still recovering from his injuries. We’d best not overwhelm him.”
“Yes. All right.” Lark was eager to go, so he stood and set off for the door with the woman on his heels. “We’ll take my carriage.”
“What shall I do with mine?”
“Send him home.”
Lady Adele let out a frustrated grunt. “My lord, if I may, my carriage is already sitting in front of your house. The horses are ready and my driver knows the way. It will save time if you come with me.”
“I suppose I could take a hackney back home.”
“And I understand you are eager to see your missing friend, but please be advised that while the evidence is compelling, I am not completely certain the man in my house is your Duke of Swynford. I also believe it is best to gradually reintroduce him to his old life because I do not want to shock him. He sustained quite a serious head injury and is still subject sometimes to pain and dizziness.”
