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Determined to not let them fall, I straighten then jerk when I hear what sounds like Mr. Smith’s voice out on the courtyard. Zigzagging past the boxes, I walk over to the tiny, square window, letting out a short squeal at the sight of him, getting out of his car. I try opening the window but it’s stuck.
His unwavering eyes scan the area and I call his name, pounding on the window. When he looks up, I hold my breath but his gaze can’t find me. Shaking his head, he walks into the house and I let out a moan in disappointment, falling to the floor.
What if he never finds me? Looking down at my jewelry, my stomach twists. What if he thinks that I just took the jewelry and decided to run away? Wrapping my arms around me, distress runs rampant in me.
He has to know I would never leave him like that. He has to.
8
Mycroft
I’ve been looking forward to this evening, looking forward to be spending it with Nell, dancing with her and showing her off to let everyone know she’s mine but now she’s nowhere to be found.
“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” I snarl, grabbing the edges of the kitchen island as I try to control my breathing.
“Eh, how am I supposed to know where the chit is at all times?” chef says, waving his hands in the air. “She’s always running around, always busy, always cleaning...”
I clench down on my jaw, worry bursting in me at her not being here when she said she would. I had expected to see my princess among the crowd when I came home. See the only person who my eyes deem worthy looking for and she wasn’t there.
Not even trying to keep my voice tempered I say, “Has she said anything to you? About wanting to go home, or wanting to leave?”
“I am a chef,” he responds, with his hand on his chest, “Not the girlfriend of Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Pierre?” I say trying hella hard to be patient. “That’s your name right?” He nods, his double chins wobbling like he’s surprised I know it. And I only do because Nell has urged me to become more gracious towards the staff. “Do you swear?” I snarl. “Swear that she didn’t tell you anything?”
Returning to decorating some desserts, he mutters, “I swear it.”
Fuck.
Racing out of the kitchen, I slam into a waiter who drops his trey and I snarl, “Watch it!” I know that had Nell been here she would have reprimanded me but she’s not here, is she?
First thing I did was to check her bedroom and to my relief her stuff was still there, the air still smelling of buttercups like she’d been there just a moment ago. Her cellphone was there too but the dress and jewelry I’d bought her were gone, which means she must’ve put them on but where the hell did she go afterwards?
Rubbing a hand over my face, I walk into the lobby where the party is and people greet me, hands touching my back, my shoulders but I barely react, steering my steps straight towards the alcohol. Grabbing a whole bottle of bourbon, I take a glass, fill it to the brink and swipe it all down.
My guests stare at me, but I couldn’t care less and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as I clutch the glass so hard it’s close to breaking. Inwardly my body is shuddering, like it’s on the verge of having a seizure and I pick up my phone, informing the police that she’s missing.
They say they can’t do anything unless she’s been gone for twenty-four hours and I make a mental note to make sure to sack the whole police department and replace it with a new one before the month is over...
“Sir...?” my secretary says carefully, running over to me on kitten heels and a pencil skirt that’s so tight it looks like she can’t breathe, “are you all right? You look like you want to do murder?”
I ignore her question. “Have you seen Nell?” I snarl and her eyes flare.
“The smiley, little maid?” She frowns. “I don’t think I have. Not since this morning.”
Slamming the glass down on a table, I fill it up with more alcohol and take a big sip.
“If you don’t mind me asking. Why are you so concerned about the maid?”
I’m close to screaming in her face, but I stop myself just in time. “She’s not just a maid. Not to me. And she won’t be to you either very soon.”
My secretary gasps. “Are you going to make her the lady of the manor?”
I give a curt nod. “I’ll make her my wife. If she’ll have me, that is.”
And if only I can find her...
“You can’t do that,” my secretary says with blushing cheeks, “I know it’s bold of me but I had always hoped you would take a liking to my own daughter. She’s an excellent violin player, all her teeth are very straight and she’s studying to become a nutritionist...”
