Emma gave him a baffled look. “No, but I suppose her lady’s maid gave it to her earlier this morning.”
Roswell rose and walked over to the door, catching the attention of a footman walking by. “I want to see Miss Bentley’s lady’s maid at once,” he ordered.
The footman tipped his head. “Yes, my lord.”
Returning to his seat, Roswell said, “Please continue, Emma.”
Emma pressed her lips together before saying, “I tried to stop Ellie, but she had wrongly assumed that Lord Worthington just wanted to speak to her.”
“What happened after that?” he questioned.
“Lord Worthington was in a coach, and I watched from one of the upstairs windows as Ellie approached it,” Emma explained. “She spoke to him for only a moment before a footman grabbed her from behind and tossed her into the coach.”
“Do you know where they were heading?”
Emma nodded. “To Gretna Green.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because we devised codes in case she was in distress, and she moved to adjust a pin in her hair,” Emma shared.
Roswell frowned. “What did that mean?”
“If she adjusted a hair pin, it meant that Lord Worthington intended to take her to Gretna Green.”
“Are you sure?” Roswell asked. “Because I need you to be absolutely sure.”
“I am.”
Charles walked into the room with a solemn look on his face. “Any word on Ellie?”
He shook his head. “I just ordered Thorne to send a man down to hire any available Bow Street Runners to help me with retrieving Ellie.”
“Do you want my company?” Charles asked.
“It could be dangerous,” Roswell warned.
Charles smirked. “Now you’ve just sold me on the venture.”
There was a lull in the conversation, and Roswell took that moment to gesture towards Lady Worthington, who had followed him into the drawing room with his mother to hear Emma’s story. “Allow me to introduce you all to Lady Worthington.”
Emma gasped. “You are safe!”
“I don’t believe I was ever truly in any danger,” Lady Worthington revealed, coming to stand next to his mother. “I’m beginning to suspect Lord Worthington used this as a ploy to lure Ellie out of the townhouse.”
“I believe you are right,” Roswell agreed.
A young maid walked hesitantly into the room and met his gaze. “You requested to see me, my lord?”
“I did.” He rose and approached her. “Did you deliver a letter to Miss Bentley this morning?”
She nodded weakly. “Yes.”
“Where did you get the letter?”
“From downstairs,” she replied softly. “It came in the post.”
Roswell met her gaze, holding it for a long moment. “You are lying to me, and I don’t have time for this nonsense,” he barked. “You couldn’t have gotten the letter from downstairs, because I ordered Thorne to give me any letters that came for Miss Bentley.”
