He returned home, leaving his footman to watch the door as long as it took. He made certain that his butler set up a rotation of men to watch the door, not at all caring if they wondered why the Duke of Rutley was setting guards upon his former governess.
They didn’t ask, and he did not offer any information. Instead, he clung to the last shreds of his calm as he informed them that he was to be interrupted at any time, day or night, when Miss Knightley was known to be safely home.
It was only when he was alone in his bedchamber—the last place he had seen her—that he let his panic overwhelm him.
Letty wasmissing. His Letty—his own heart. She wasgone.
He sank to the floor, unable to even make it to a chair.
This was worse than when he had woken to flames overtaking the world. It was worse than when his parents had died. It was worse than realizing that he was somehow, impossibly in charge of a small child.
For a few endless minutes, he sat there, trying to just catch his breath, to soothe his frantic pulse. Then, he forced himself to his feet. Letty needed him. He could not afford to fall to pieces.
He jotted a note to Hugh and Persephone, letting them know what had transpired. He didn’tthinkthat Letty would have gone to them for help, but they were the only other people in London that she knew, as far as he could tell. If she had gone somewhere unexpectedly, maybe she had left word. If not, Hugh’s connections to the underground meant that all kinds of information filtered his way. Ezra would not leave any stone unturned.
“You are to put this directly in the hand of the Duke of Nighthall,” he instructed the footman sternly. “I don’t care that it’s late. I don’t care if he is asleep. Do whatever it takes to get that note to him as soon as possible.”
“Of course, my lord,” the servant said seriously. But of course, his staff would do whatever they could to help. Letitia had won them all over, too.
It was a combination of exhaustion and sheer force of will that made Ezra fall asleep. He needed the rest because he could not afford to be anything less than his best for Letitia. He still woke before dawn, only to find there was no news.
She had not come home.
When a letter arrived in the second round of post, just as Ezra was lecturing himself on the wisdom of eating breakfast so he could keep up his strength, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
But it wasn’t from Hugh.
It was from Xander.
Dear Ezra, his eldest cousin had written.
I was rather surprised—but I assure you, not at all displeased—to hear from you. Particularly regarding such an unusual manner, one Viscount Peter Dugley. What on earth, I wondered, could you desire with such a man, who, as I am told,is even a rather minor figure in these parts? I was shocked to hear he casts a wide enough shadow that you even know his name.
Nevertheless, I was happy to oblige. A few discreet inquiries answered my curiosity as well as (I hope) yours. It is as I assume you suspected: Dugley was indeed a known associate of your late father’s.
“What?” Ezra asked the quiet emptiness of his breakfast room. That had not at all been what he wanted to know. He had been vague with Xander about his reasons because… Well, because Xander thought he needed to know everything that went on with every member of the family, but Xander was actually incorrect about that fact.
At any other time, Ezra would have been fascinated by this revelation. Now, he did not care at all about any of Dugley’s acquaintances except one.
Frantically, praying for some shred of useful information, he read on.
I could not discern the precise nature of this association, I am afraid. Whenever I probed, I was met with only veiled suggestions and innuendos. I hope you do not think that I seek to insult you or impugn your father’s memory when I say that the consensus seems to be that Dugley is rather unsavory.
Nevertheless, you are better poised than I to find out more. Though you say Dugley has lived in Belgium for the past tenyears or more, the localon ditis that he recently traveled to London, where you can seek him out yourself.
Do reach out if you need anything else. Helen is pestering me most unmercifully to add that she sends her love.
Your cousin,
Xander Lightholder, Duke of Godwin
Ezra’s throat went dry, and a haze of red appeared at the corners of his vision until the only thing he could see was the words ‘he recently traveled to London.’
It did not take any particular cleverness to put the pieces together.
Dugley had come here for Letitia. And now, Letty was missing—because Dugley had her.
Ezra swallowed down against the force of his rage. He could not let it control him, not when he needed to control it, to use it.
