Page 125 of Courting the Wrong Duke

Nelly hesitated before dipping her head. “Of course, my lady.”

William looked between them, and Rosalind wondered whether he had noticed the exchange. Knowing him, he almost certainly had.

He did not question it.

They left the gallery together, Nelly following several paces behind while Rosalind walked beside William toward the conservatory.

“You were telling me she had discovered something,” he reminded her.

Rosalind nodded. There was little reason to conceal the first part now, particularly when William might be able to help confirm it.

“Someone remembers seeing my father leave White’s on the night he disappeared.”

William’s attention sharpened. “Someone saw him?”

“A footman, apparently. Papa left the club quite normally. He bade goodnight to several gentlemen and then entered a carriage.”

William slowed. “His own?”

“No. That is what makes it interesting.”

They had reached the conservatory, but neither paid much attention to the flowers surrounding them as they continued toward the garden doors.

“Nelly’s sources described it as a private carriage,” Rosalind continued. “A very fine one. Expensive enough to be noticed, although none of the servants Nelly has spoken to remembers the crest.”

William frowned. “And no one knows who sent it?”

“Not yet.”

“But your father entered willingly?”

“As far as anyone could tell. There was no commotion. No argument. Nothing to suggest he believed himself in danger.”

William was quiet for several steps.

Rosalind watched him carefully. She had deliberately withheld the carriage when they were alone in the gallery, wanting first to discover whether he knew anything of it. His surprise now appeared genuine.

Either William Sinclair possessed a truly extraordinary talent for deception, or this was the first he had heard of it.

Rosalind found herself relieved by how readily she believed the latter.

“If the carriage collected him from White’s,” William said, his thoughts already moving ahead of hers, “someone at the club may remember it arriving.”

“That was my thought.”

“The footmen certainly would. Carriages were coming and going all evening, but a private equipage waiting specifically for Lord Eastmere narrows matters considerably.” He glanced at her. “Do you know approximately when he left?”

“Late. That is all Nelly has learned so far.”

“It may be enough. I can ask at White’s. Someone may remember the horses, the livery, even the coachman if not the crest.”

Hope stirred despite Rosalind’s determination not to become too excited by another uncertain lead.

“That is more than we had yesterday.”

“It is.”

William smiled at her, and something in Rosalind’s chest loosened.