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“But what can we do, Your Grace? How can we ever hope to rescue her?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll think of something, I promise,” Jackson replied, even as his own hopes seemed futile in the face of such overwhelming wickedness.
* * *
When Jackson awoke the next morning, his first thought was of Eloise. He could not believe she was now a prisoner in her own home, and he feared the day of the wedding would come soon. It had been their intention to marry quickly to secure Eloise’s future. But if Lord Crawford was first to place the ring on her finger, then Jackson knew all would be lost. He lay in bed for a few moments, thinking of Eloise. He imagined holding her in his arms, kissing her sweet lips, and being her protector.
But I’ve failed to protect her. I’ve failed in everything.
He cursed his own lack of action.
They could have married already – it would not have been a difficult thing to arrange. Jackson felt angry with himself for having failed to grasp the opportunity, not only for Eloise but for himself, too.
“And now it’s lost. There’s nothing I can do,” he muttered to himself, as he felt the heavy burden of defeat hanging over him.
He lay in bed for a while, pondering ever more fantastical possibilities. But the more he thought about it, the less he felt certain anything could be done, unless…
“Alice,” he gasped.
If Eloise’s sister could be found, then the possibility of preventing the wedding remained. If a scandal had occurred, then there was every chance of exposing it. Lord Crawford would refuse to marry Eloise, and then… Jackson threw back the bedcovers and hurriedly got up, pulling on his breeches and shirt with excitement at the thoughts filling his mind. He hurried downstairs, finding his uncle at breakfast in the dining room.
“What’s gotten into you?” the Baron asked, as Jackson poured himself a cup of coffee and snatched up a piece of toast.
“I’m going to find Eloise’s sister. If I can find her, then I can stop this wedding. I know I can,” he declared, and his uncle scowled at him.
“You’ve already set that damn Dobson fellow on the matter. Leave it be,” he snapped, but Jackson was not listening.
He could no longer sit back and idly wait for Arthur Dobson to find Eloise’s sister. This was a task Jackson intended to seize with both hands. They had a lead – the orphanages. And he would visit every orphanage in London if it would bring Alice back and stop Eloise’s wedding to Lord Crawford.
“I don’t care what you say, Uncle. I’m going to find Eloise’s sister. I’m going to find out the truth about what happened to her. If I can do that, I can expose the scandal. Even Lord Crawford wouldn’t marry a woman whose sister was shrouded in scandal, only to return years later.” He finished his coffee in one gulp.
His mind was set on one thing and one thing only – finding Alice and bringing her home. Without waiting for his uncle to reply, Jackson hurried out of the room, almost colliding with Delphine, who had spent the night in the servant’s quarters.
“I’m sorry for coming here so unexpectedly, Your Grace. I’ll go to my sister’s house. She doesn’t live far from here. But… you will let me know if you can help Her Ladyship, won’t you?” Delphine hesitated, but Jackson seized her by the arm with an excited look on his face.
“No, Delphine, you won’t go to your sister’s house. You’re going to help me find Lady Alice and bring her home.”
Delphine looked at him in astonishment.
“But… do you really mean it?” she asked, and Jackson nodded.
“Yes, with all my heart I mean it. I’d left the matter in the hands of Arthur Dobson, but we have no time to spare. Not now. Come, Delphine. We’ll take a carriage to the nearest orphanage, and that’s where we’ll begin.” He snatched up his hat and coat as he called for the butler to summon a carriage. Time was of the essence!
CHAPTER20
Eloise had thought about trying to escape again. She had even tried the doors of the house each morning, forcing herself to stay awake so she might rise at an hour when the rest of the house was asleep. Methodically, she tried each door and window, but on every occasion, she found them locked tight. She was a prisoner in her own home, and the servants were under strict instructions to keep her so.
“I’m not going to take any chances,” her father had told her, as he took the butler’s keys from him after dinner.
It was her father who had locked the doors, bolted the windows, and ensured no one could leave the house at night. He had even threatened to lock her in her bedroom if she tried to escape. Eloise was despairing. She had composed numerous letters to Jackson – words of lament and sorrow, words of defiance and determination. But her father would never have allowed her to send such letters. He had forbidden her from having any contact with Jackson. It was as though he had never existed, and she had never known him.
She was refusing to speak to him, taking her meals in her bedroom, and avoiding any unnecessary contact with him. They passed like ships in the night, but each day, without fail, she would be subjected to a visit from Lord Crawford, who would insist on spending time with her, despite her making herself the very worst of company. This was how the days proceeded – silence, followed by forced conversation. It was stifling, and Eloise did not know how much more she could take.
“I won’t be made a fool of, Eloise. You’re being nothing but stubborn,” Lord Crawford said, as they sat in the drawing room a week after he had brought her back from her abortive attempt to flee.
“Stubborn? It’s hardly stubborn to sit in one’s drawing room, is it?”
He scowled at her and narrowed his eyes.
