Chapter Thirteen
Serenity woke to findherself cradled in Luke’s arms, bouncing along in a well-sprung coach as the London streets flashed by the windows. She stiffened, the events of the past hour overwhelming her.
“It’s all right,” Luke told her softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back. “Relax, angel. Just let me hold you. We’ll sort it all out. We’ll find our daughter.”
She drew in a shuddering breath, then let it out in a sob. “She’s out there all alone. My baby.”
“Ourbaby,” he corrected. “She’s my daughter, too, though everyone seems to have seen fit to rob me of that. And I promise I will move heaven and earth to find her.”
“I believe you,” she whispered, tears still streaming down her face, choking her. “I believe you will bring her back to me.” In truth, she didn’t. Not really. How could they ever find their child after all this time? But she wasn’t alone anymore, and that was something. Luke was here with her, and no matter the result of their search, at least she would no longer have to go through this pain and grief all alone.
“I am not sure I deserve your trust, but it means so much to me to hear it. When I woke in Dover and found myself alone, when I thought I had lost you again... I just need to know that you’ll stay with me this time, Serenity. No matter what the future holds, just promise me that you’ll never run off that way again. Not without telling me where you’re going. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fisting her hands in his shirt. “You’re right. I won’t. I thought our daughter was dead, I didn’t think there was anything that could be done, and I wanted to spare you that. But now... to be told that she’s out there, that we might be able to find her... I’m so afraid to hope for that. Afraid to even believe it’s true.”
He hugged her tightly for several long minutes, then gently set her beside him, using his handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face. “I’m taking you home. You’re staying with me until we find our daughter. Then we’ll discuss the future.”
She could only nod, trying to hold back her tears. She must be strong. She must be brave. If they were to find their daughter, she could not give in to her emotions. She needed to keep her wits about her. Damage to her reputation seemed such a ridiculous thing to worry about after everything she’d been through. She could care less if the whole world thought her Luke’s mistress, as long as he helped bring her baby back to her.
The coach came to a stop outside his huge white townhome in Mayfair, and a coachman opened the door. Luke got out and then turned to help her down as well. She swallowed, staring up at the house she’d passed so many times before on her way to and from the market. Every time, she’d hoped to catch a glimpse of him, but somehow she never had.
Now she was going to be living in this lavish mansion, with the only man she’d ever loved. A woman like her stepping over the threshold would be utterly scandalous in most people’s eyes, but the look he gave her as he took her arm and guided her forward made her realize he didn’t care either.
Still, nausea churned in her stomach as the butler opened the door, and they entered a vast foyer with a ceiling that arched far above them and white and black marble floors. As the butler took her cloak, she was all too aware of the fact that just a few short days ago, she’d been far below this man in the grand scheme of things. She was certain that he somehow knew who and what she was.
“Miss Pratt will be my houseguest for some time,” Luke told the man. “Please have the blue room prepared for her and make sure she has everything she needs.”
“Of course, sir,” the butler said, turning away with no hint of censure.
No doubt he’d save that for later on, below stairs, where all the help would gossip endlessly about the situation.
Once the butler had gone, Luke escorted her down a long hallway and into a surprisingly homey sitting room done up in soothing shades of cream and blue. She took a seat on the edge of the sofa and tried to smile at him, though her emotions were in such turmoil all she wanted to do was cry.
“What are we going to do first?” she asked instead, trying to focus on the only thing that could make this pain end. “How are we going to find her?”
Lucien sat down across from her, rubbing his hand across his face. He looked exhausted, and she realized how little sleep he’d gotten during the past few days. She wanted to urge him to get some rest, but she also wanted him to get up immediately and go find their daughter.
“I think the first thing I need to do is talk to Adrian, see what he knows about the people who ran Miss Hawley’s Gentlemen’s Club. Perhaps he will know where they’ve set up shop now,” he said at last.
She shot back to her feet. “Good. Let’s go.”
