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Dash wrapped his arms around the small frame of the woman who had made her dislike for him obvious. He patted her on the back. Her distress helped him regain his composure. “Here, here now. We will find her. Lady Perdita is strong and smart and will fight.” He wanted to believe every word.
Miss Rothsby snuffled and then pulled back, stepping out of his embrace. “I’m sorry, my lord. I’m not usually apt to lose my equanimity. But without Roddy to turn to…” Her voice broke, and she patted her eyes with the handkerchief stuffed into her hand.
“Please sit down and tell me everything.” He led her to the settee. Dash was ready to decimate everything and everyone in his path, but taking it out on Perdita’s closest and distressed friend was not an option.
“The carriage was set upon by four men. Harry was shot and your man was killed. Dita was forced into a waiting carriage by two men. It is all that Harry can remember. Harry was found bleeding in the street and taken into a home. He was unconscious, but when he woke, he immediately sent a message to Clifton house. I came here as soon as I could.”
In broad daylight in the middle of London, Perdita had been taken with two of his best men guarding her. Haversham and his men were escalating. Yardley had been killed, Vinson was missing, and now Perdita. They were desperate.
Rathbourne handed him a brandy. “Drink this. I need you on top of the game.”
Dash threw back the fine French cognac, feeling the smooth burn down his throat.
“Was there anything out of the ordinary in Lady Perdita’s routine this morning?” Rathbourne sat across from Miss Rothsby. “Anything unusual?”
“Nothing. I barely spoke with her. She slept late, which was unusual, but she was in great spirits.” Miss Rothsby blushed as she pushed her glasses on her nose.
“I asked Perdita to marry me last night.” Dash looked at Rathbourne.
Whatever the man saw, he nodded in understanding. “When we have Lady Perdita back, I will share the perils my wife put me through. Women are stronger than we ever give them credit for.”
Rathbourne’s confidence and his steady voice calmed Dash enough that he could listen to Miss Rothsby. But they were wasting time. He had to get to Harry to learn if he had any clues to identify the men.
“You’ve sent a message to the men on the docks of Upper Pool to search for Lady Perdita? Someone must have seen them forcing a woman onto a ship in the middle of the day.”
“Upper Pool docks?” Miss Rothsby interjected. “At last night’s ball…” She pushed her glasses with one finger to right them. “You both are aware that Dita and I have been gathering information about Lord Yardley at society events. My role is to listen for gossip amongst the companions and dowagers and in the retiring room. I also am skilled at reading lips. Last night, Lord Vinson was speaking with Lord Yardley about Carolina, which caught my attention since Dita and I thought it was a woman’s name when we first heard it. We’ve been searching for connections. But he said something about Carolina and the West Indies docks. I cannot discern a great deal of the conversation by lip reading, but I can recognize distinct words and deduce meaning from the words and body language.”
“Oh, my God. We’ve been searching at the wrong docks. I’m headed there now. And the Carolina must be a ship. Can you assemble the men I need?” Dash felt a flash of hope. Their first real clue.
“Very savvy to distract us to search Upper Pool docks with Haversham’s smuggling enterprise located there.” Rathbourne stood. “Wait, I’m going with you.”
“But you… your identity will be…” Dash was already headed to the door.
“They already know who I am. And after the years of watching them, I want to face those slimy bastards for thinking they can take a lady off our streets.”
“What should I do?” Miss Rothsby asked, her voice now clear.
“You must rest, my dear. Please ring the bell and have Mrs. Brompton bring you tea. I will inform you as soon as we have news.”
Dash and Rathbourne rode in silence in the carriage. Dash had debated whether to have a horse saddled, but he was too impatient to get to the West Indies docks. The area was expansive, but now they had a name, the name he had found scribbled on a sheet of paper in Haversham’s office. It wouldn’t be like the search of Upper Pool where there were hundreds of ships and nothing to differentiate between them. They would find the dockmaster at West Indies, and he would direct him to the ship. And then he would obliterate everyone who was part of harming Perdita.
He focused on the details of his plan because if he didn’t, he would sink into the darkness where primal panic lived. His life without Perdita was nothing. As children, she had filled the emptiness of his existence. He’d rather die than live in the world without her.
“I know that look. But you’ll be of no use to Lady Perdita if you are not in control. She will need you to use all your wits.”
What did Rathbourne know? He had a wonderful aunt and sister who adored him. Roddy and Perdita were his only family.
“Why take Lady Perdita? And why now?”
“You want to talk about this now?” Dash considered grabbing Rathbourne by the neck and choking him.
Rathbourne raised his eyebrow. The smug bastard.
“It must mean that Clifton is alive.” Rathbourne leaned against the squab in Dash’s carriage.
“Yes.” A spark of hope flared in Dash’s chest.
“Lady Perdita knows of Clifton’s involvement in Pitt’s scheme, but she has no useful information. They must plan to use her as leverage to make Clifton talk,” Rathbourne said in his analytical voice. “She was taken four to five hours ago.”
Dash’s throat constricted, making it hard to get air into his lungs, at Rathbourne’s careless description of brutal men using Perdita. “What the hell, Rathbourne? How is it helpful to know that they are threatening Lady Perdita?”
“Exactly. Threaten. Not harm her. But we must find her quickly.”
And with that pithy comment, Dash’s fear ricocheted off the walls. He had to get to her in time. She was well trained in defending herself. His need to be logical wasn’t suppressing the entire body alarm. Perdita had only fought against Alfie, Harry, Roddy, and himself. All men who loved her and would never hurt her. It was all a game. She had never fought against deadly evil men who killed without blinking an eye. He prayed that she kept her bravery at the forefront of her mind. He prayed to the God he’d abandoned years before.
