“To be frank, Miss Kendall, she was in such high dudgeon Ididn’t dare ask. She was too busy ranting about Leo abdicating all responsibility for what was morally right.”
“Why don’t I have a proper hunt for her?” Worried and yet still grateful for any excuse to escape the duchess’s prying questions, Portia did not wait for permission. Instead, she hurried out of the door and went straight up the stairs, silently praying that the duke’s headstrong but misguided sister hadn’t done something that they would both live to regret.
She knocked on Lady Abigail’s door and when there was no answer, she slipped inside. The paints were discarded on the dressing table and the wardrobe door was wide open, but other than that, nothing seemed to be amiss. Portia was about to leave when she spotted several sizable screwed up balls of paper sat atop the unlit fire. Fearing the worst, she retrieved them all. Then, like a jigsaw, she pieced together all the torn pieces, and her heart sank at the damning words daubed large in black that screamed back at her.
BATH—THE CITY OF CROOKED COURTS AND CORRUPT CONSTABLES!
Chapter
SIXTEEN
It was nearly nine when Leo finally arrived back home, still in a horrible mood as he marched up the garden despite the long hours he had put in on his estate to try to shake it. He hoped a decent soak in a hot bath might help him feel less aggrieved before bed, although didn’t hold out much hope. He was just too angry and too hurt to do anything other than fester.
I cannot be with a duke!What the blazes did that even mean?
He could understand and accept that she didn’t want him—as that was her right, but he could not bloody well understand what his blasted title had to do with anything. Because if her only objection was that he was a duke, that was unreasonable. He couldn’t help being born a duke any more than she could help being born into her station.
Bloody woman!
In fact, he would even go as far today to say bloody womenbecause every single one that he cared about seemed hell-bent on making his life a misery!
His dogs met him at the kitchen door, and he tried to be thankful that they did not hate him. However, even they were oddly subdued as they followed him. Snifferson especially had the drooped ears and sad eyes he only wore when he was upset.
He heard his mother in the hallway and seriously considered sneaking all the way up to his bedchamber via the servants’ stairs to avoid her before he decided to bite the bullet. If he allowed her to lecture him en route about his latest argument with his infuriating sister, then it not only got that inevitability over and done with, it put a short and sweet time limit on how long she could lambast him. Then, with any luck, he would be left alone to fester in private.
“Leo!” Instead of instantly castigating him, his mother ran toward him, her eyes red and her demeanor agitated. “Thank god you are home! Abigail is missing!”
And just like that, all his self-pity evaporated and was replaced by panic. “Missing! Since when?”
“Nobody has seen her since this afternoon.”
“Did she take a horse?” Because if she had, she could be bloody miles away by now.
His mother shook her head. “Wherever she went, it had to have initially been on foot. I was in the drawing room all afternoon and would have seen if a carriage pulled up outside.” His mother tugged at his sleeve. “But she has been gone so long and was so angry, I fear she could have decided to take the afternoon post back to London.”
“What does Emilia know?” Because he wouldn’t put it past either of his sisters to do something like this to punish him.
“Nothing—she raised the alarm at seven when she failed to locate Abigail.” That was two hours ago. A person could go a great distance and find a great deal of trouble in two hours. More if she had been gone since earlier in the afternoon.
Leo tried to calm his racing mind by running through all the sensible next steps in his head. “Have you sent someone into town to investigate?” If they could retrace her route, it might give them a clue where Abigail was headed.
“I sent the footman and the stable lad to do that over an hour ago but neither have returned yet.”
“Have you made inquiries with some of her new friends? And have you called the constable?” As much as Leo loathed Nolley, theman knew the city well and had a sizable group of watchmen at his disposal who could all help.
“I did not realize that she was missing when the constable called for you earlier and by the time that I did, it seemed prudent to wait for you before I escalated this and potentially dragged her good name into disrepute unnecessarily.” His mother’s voice cracked. “I had hoped that she would have had the good sense to return home before dark. Or to at least have the decency to send us a message to reassure us that she was safe.” Her eyes refilled with tears. “Aside from the fact that making us worry so much is unforgivable, she is a woman on her own in the dark, for pity’s sake. Clearly, she has no care whatsoever for her own safety!”
Finally, his mother now realized what he had known for months. “I think we’ve passed the point of trying to avoid a scandal.” Their top priority now had to be getting Abigail home safe. He wished Portia was here so that she could help him. She had a level head on her shoulders and also knew the city well, but he knew she had likely already gone to her mother’s before Abigail’s disappearance had come to light. “If you call on her friends, I’ll alert the constable.”
He was about to dash back out to the stable to do just that when somebody hammered on the front door. Leo didn’t wait for a servant to come and answer it and flung it open himself. Then experienced a moment of sheer terror when he saw Constable Nolley’s grave face.
“Your grace.” The man had taken off his hat and was twisting the brim around in his fingers, and something about his demeanor made the roots of Leo’s hair tingle ominously as if it knew something was very wrong. “I am afraid I come here on official business pertaining to your sister—”
Tight bands of panic constricted his throat as he instantly spiraled into thinking the worst. “Is she dead?” All Leo needed were the particulars, not the preamble, when a thousand terrible scenarios were already whizzing through his head. “Is she hurt?”Please god let her not be dead!
The constable shook his head. “She is neither—” The breath hehad been holding whooshed out of Leo’s lungs in relief. “But if the woman who is currently claiming to be Lady Abigail Sloane is indeed your sister, then I have to inform you that she is currently under arrest.”
“What the…” Of all the awful things he had expected the constable to say, it certainly wasn’t that! “What the hell has she been arrested for?” Fresh panic swamped him, but he tried to beat it back. At least until he fixed whatever needed fixing.
