Page 2 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
Something was terribly wrong.
“Excuse me, Lord Everett,” he said politely. “I fear something must be wrong with our maid.”
He moved with quiet urgency away from Everett to meet her on the path, closing the distance between them in a few swift strides.
He saw the full extent of terror etched on her stone face and resolved himself not to panic. Her eyes held a look of fear, and it felt as if they were both frozen in time. He followed her gaze as she continued searching for something, scanning the grassy knolls ahead.
It was then he saw it. Or rather, he didn’t see it.
Lydia was gone.
“What happened here?” Richard asked, his voice low and urgent as not to cause alarm or make a scene.
He fixed his eyes squarely on the maid’s terrified face. He placed his hands on her arms, shaking her gently to break her out of her silence.
“Where is Lydia?”
The maid’s breath hitched, and she stammered to speak.
Her voice was barely a whisper, “I looked away for a moment, Your Grace! It was just to fix my boot, and when I came up, she was gone. The girl just disappeared!”
“How long ago?” Richard pressed sharply, his mind already piecing together the fragments of the puzzle.
Where is she?
“A few minutes at most, I thought she would come back from wherever she is,” the maid replied, her body trembling as she reached for her handkerchief. She began to cry, loudly blowing her nose to speak again. “But… but she always comes back. She must be around here somewhere. I am sure she just wandered off in search of some little bird. LYDIA!” She called, cupping her hands around her face. “Come here, sweetheart!”
A few minutes was an eternity in a place like this. Hyde Park, with all its beauty, was a place where secrets lurked in every shadow and danger behind every turn.
He scanned the area around her, checking for any disturbance.
“Did you see anyone near you while you were walking? Anyone at all?” Richard demanded, his eyes narrowing on hers.
He was beginning to fear the worst but put those thoughts out of his mind. He needed to focus.
The maid shook her head back at him silently.
“Is something the matter?” Everett asked tentatively as he shouldered up to Richard. “What can I do, man? Is it the girl?”
“I’ll handle this myself,” Richard barked.
The last thing he needed was help. He needed to find Lydia, and now, before something happened to her.
Richard slapped his hands together tightly in exasperation. He knew this was no mere disappearance. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt a cold dread settling in his stomach.
He had to find Lydia, and he had to do it quickly.
“Stay here,” he ordered them both. “Don’t move. And don’t speak to anyone.”
The unsettling feeling grew stronger, like the silence before a storm.
He had to find her before it was too late.
Chapter Two
“Aithnichidh cat cat eile.” A cat will recognize another cat.
“Oh, my dear Catriona, you must play,” Lady Whipple chirped as she clapped her hands together in excitement—she was more like a child than a lady most days, her voice squeaky as a trapped mouse. “It’s Pall Mall! Such a delightful pastime, surely!”
