Page 43 of A Raven Revived

“Well, I’ll come in and wait for her, then.” He pushed past the butler. He would not be denied entry again.

Her father sat at the head of the long dining table, a newspaper held up in front of him.

“Good morning, Lord Litchfield.”

He lowered the paper and scowled. “I don’t believe I invited you into my home.”

“I’ve come for Daisy.”

“Jane,” he said, drawing out the name to emphasize his correction, “is not here.”

Fitz’s brow dropped as dread trickled into his veins. “What do you mean she isn’t here?”

He shrugged, looking bored. “She must have run off again.”

Ice filled his stomach. “What did you do?” He began to tremble with rage as he moved toward Lord Litchfield.

“I didn’t do anything. As you know, she has a history of disappearing.”

“I don’t believe you.” He would throttle the man. “She wouldn’t just run away again.”

“Wouldn’t she?” He raised his brow with an uninterested sigh. “Check the house, if you’d like.”

Fitz strode from the dining room and took the stairs two at a time. Her bed had obviously been slept in, but she wasn’t there. The clothes she’d brought were in the armoire, and her robe hung from the bedpost. His heart clenched with fear. She wouldn’t be wandering around in only her nightgown.

He rushed through the house opening doors, desperately looking in every room. He found Lady Litchfield in one of the drawing rooms, sipping tea.

“Do you know where Daisy… Jane is?” he asked desperately.

Her brow furrowed. “I believe she’s still abed, Mr. Fitzwilliam.”

“She’s not in her room. She’s not in any room.”

The words slowly seemed to settle in her mind and with a swallow, she set her trembling dishes on the table. “No,” she said softly, one hand going to her mouth.

“Do you have any idea where she could be?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked up at him, but then she turned her gaze in the direction of the dining room. After a moment, she shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Does Lord Litchfield know where she is? Has he done something to her?”

She did not raise her eyes again and simply stared down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The shadow of a bruise marred her cheek. That hadn’t been there last night. She’d clearly paid a price for standing up to her husband. And now, she was too afraid to speak, which meant Daisy’s father had done something.

Fitz stormed back to the dining room. He’d give Litchfield a bruise to match his wife’s. He leaned over the man, his gaze boring into him. “Where is she, you son of a bitch?”

“I will not tolerate such disrespect in my home. Leave now, or I will have you removed.” He rang a bell that sat on top of the table.

Fitz grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and hauled him out of the chair, but two sets of hands quickly clamped onto his arms and dragged him away.

“Where is she?” he shouted as a third set of hands joined them. He was shoved out the front door and it was immediately locked behind him.

This could not be happening. He jogged around the house and grounds shouting her name. Her father had done something to send her fleeing. What if he’d hurt her? Fitz pounded on the front door to no avail.

Panic ripped through him. He gripped his fingers painfully into this hair, slowly turning in a circle. What was he going to do? What was he going to do?

She had to be here somewhere. Perhaps she’d gone to find him at his family’s estate. He hadn’t seen her on the road here, but he hadn’t been watching for her.

He sprinted to where his carriage was. His coachman was laughing with one of the grooms and was surprised by his sudden appearance.

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