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“No! No, do not tell him that.” Celeste waved her hands wildly in the air, clearly fearful of losing her work. “Very well, have it your way, Your Grace. I am not with child.”
“Then tell me why you claimed you were!” Elliot barked the words. Any semblance of being able to contain his temper was now gone.
“Because he asked me to.”
Her quiet words made everything fall silent in the room. Elliot looked to Harrison who shrugged, clearly just as baffled.
“Who ishe, Celeste?”
This time, she didn’t hesitate to give him the answer. Elliot listened patiently, questioning Celeste further at times until he was certain he had the answers he needed. Then, he left.
“I’m sorry,” Celeste called after him. “I was just so angry at you for leaving me. I didn’t want you to go!” she pleaded, prompting him to turn at the top of the staircase to see her slumped in the doorway, leaning on the frame.
“Do not lie to make me feel sorry for you, Celeste,” he said swiftly. “You have plainly found other lovers whilst we have been apart. Move on from the past. Attach yourself to one of them if you must have a fixation. Forget me.”
Elliot hurried down the stairs with Harrison ahead of him. They reached the carriage quickly and stepped inside. Now, the drunkenness seemed to have dissipated from Elliot’s mind. The conversation with Celeste had been a sobering one. As the carriage shifted from side to side, jolting them and the lantern above them every few seconds, both men sat forward, with their elbows on their knees, deep in thought.
“Do you believe her story?” Harrison asked, eventually being the one to break the silence.
“I do. She is good at lying, but she did not lie about this. I am certain of it.” Elliot’s words had only just ended when the horse pulling the carriage whinnied, plainly spooked by something. Elliot and Harrison sat straight as the coach came to a halt on the driveway of Elliot’s house.
“Your Grace! There is someone here to see you,” the coach driver called.
Elliot pushed open the door and jumped down to see what had spooked the horse so. There was another horse on the driveway, one that through the shadows of the night must have seemed to have appeared from the darkness. The man in the saddle tipped back his hat, revealing his face in a glimmer of moonlight.
“Thomas?” Elliot said, stepping forward and recognising the face of his footman. He was the man who had helped him round up the horses when they had escaped, and had been watching Mrs Townsend’s house for any signs of Ophelia. “Is all well?” Elliot stopped by the horse, waiting as Thomas jumped down and hurriedly bowed.
“It’s been a difficult couple of days, Your Grace, I’ll give you that. My horse and I have no energy left in us.” He panted, bending down and resting his hands on his knees.
“You are fit to fall down. Quick, Harrison?” Elliot called to the carriage. “Get Mr Wilder to fetch a drink for this fellow. He needs reviving.”
Harrison poked his head out of the coach and nodded, before jumping down and running to the door of the house.
“Come, Thomas, let us get you inside and rested.”
“In a minute, Your Grace. First, I must speak to you.” Thomas stopped walking abruptly, refusing to go any further. “It concerns the duchess.”
“What of her?” Elliot stepped forward, his eagerness to know something of her making him impatient.
“Mrs Townsend did not have a visit from her, but Mrs Townsend left town two days ago. I followed her all the way to Cheltenham. I changed horses more than once to see the job done, but I followed her through town to see she visited this address. Here, I’ve written it down.”
He reached a hand into the pocket of his tailcoat and pulled out a card, with a hastily written scrawl upon it. “Through the window, I caught sight of the duchess. Mrs Townsend found her, Your Grace. The duchess is in Cheltenham.”
Elliot gripped to the card in his hand. At last, he knew where to find Ophelia. After so long being apart from her, it scarcely felt real to know where she was. He had to go to her at once, to explain all that he had heard from Celeste.
“Harrison?” Elliot called as he towed Thomas toward the house, insisting that the footman rest himself.
“Yes?” Harrison appeared alongside Mr Wilder, both offering drinks to Thomas.
“I must leave. Tonight. I will need my carriage, and I will go in the next few minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“Cheltenham. If I ride all night, I’ll be there by morning.”
Chapter 27
“Ophelia? You might wish to look out of this window.”
