Page 38 of A Lady's Past
It would have been inappropriate to cheer, but Lord, how Jacques wanted to hurrah for what Francis said.
Preston chuckled behind his hand. He was a duke and could get away with almost anything. “Time to be on our way, gentlemen. My uncle has been generous with his time and knowledge.”
Rising, Alex looked as if he might say more, but thought better of it. “Thank you for receiving us at such an early hour. I will set to work to bring Miss MacLeod back safely.”
Francis stood with his hands on his hips. In his long white nightshirt and brown robe, he looked comical, but his expression was fierce. “See that you do.”
Outside, Preston said, “I assume we will be given a similar dressing down at Everton House. Shall we go?”
Of course, a note had been sent the night before to Lord and Lady Everton. Jacques had sent one of his own as soon as he could see clearly enough to write. When the ladies didn’t arrive home, the Everton Domestic Society would have gone on full alert. As it turned out, they had done so anyway.
Gray, the butler, admitted them without asking their business. “The lord and lady are in the office. I’m certain they will wish you gentlemen to join them.”
Three footmen rushed through the foyer. To the left of the front door, the dining room was bustling with Everton ladies. One brunette rolled bandages while another worked with a maid putting together bundles of food.
In the office, Lady Jane Everton handed Bertram a note. “Are you sure you are well enough to continue? You should probably rest.”
“They were taken on my watch, my lady. If it’s all right with you, I’ll be seeing this through.” Bertram waited for a nod from his employer before turning. His gaze met Jacques’s. “You all right, sir?”
“Other than a pounding head, I am fine. What about you?” Bertram’s size might have caused their assailants to hit him harder. Jacques had been lucky to get away with just a small cut and a knot on his head.
“Just a bit bruised up. More angry than hurt, to be honest.” With a nod, Bertram stomped out the door.
Rupert Everton sat behind the desk where his wife usually presided. He didn’t look up from the letter he penned. “Come in, gentlemen. I’m nearly done here.”
Michael stood in the back of the room with a clear view of the door while Preston strode in and bowed. The only bit of femininity in the room was fresh flowers, which were unusual in winter. The dark wood and heavy brocades were distinctly masculine in a house filled mostly with women. The bookcase Michael leaned on was filled with tomes of ancient titles of history, religion, philosophy and only a few novels.
Lady Jane made a curtsy. “Please sit down. We’ve been working since we received your note. Our own footmen are ready to assist, and his lordship has written a few friends for their assistance as well. Bow Street has been very kind and will send a dozen men.”
Not even stoic Alex could hide his surprise. “I had no idea your organization was so well connected, my lady.”
She sat in the chair beside the desk so that the men would sit. “You would be shocked at how many friends the society has. We have helped many families over the years, and often stay in contact with them long after our ladies’ assignments are over.”
Lord Rupert folded his letter and handed it to Gray, who hovered nearby. Once the butler plodded out the door and closed it, Rupert said, “Now, what has been done to recover our ladies?”
Leaning forward, Alex entwined his fingers and rested his elbows on his knees. “I have a small force of well-trained men who are searching for any signs of them. I have most of my resources making certain they have not left London, and I feel sure they have not. Michael contacted his friend Thomas Wheel to see what he can find out. The problem is, no matter how many men we gather, finding two women hidden in all of London is nearly impossible. We need to narrow down our search.”
The knot in Jacques’s stomach tightened. Alex was right. It was like finding a needle in a haystack, but if they had to pull every stalk of hay one at a time, he would spend his life doing so. “I think it unlikely they would be in any of the finer areas of London. The gentry are far too nosy about their neighbors’ comings and goings. It would be far smarter to hide out in a poor area where people tend to mind their own business.”
“Jacques is right,” Preston said.
Alex stood. “I agree, but even then, there are too many buildings to search. They could be in a hotel, a hovel or the hull of a ship. I can keep the ships in port for a few more hours, but captains get rather uppity if you demand to search their ships.”
The door opened and Thomas Wheel entered. His dark red hair was windblown, and he wore trousers and a worn jacket. He looked more like a common miller or cobbler than the wealthy gentleman he was. “I’m sorry to barge in uninvited. Please forgive me, Lady Everton.”
A rare smile lit Jane’s face. “You are most welcome, Mr. Wheel. I had the pleasure of hearing your wife play pianoforte last spring and was mesmerized. She is a wonder.”
“Yes, she is.” He grinned. “Forgive the abrupt change of topic, but I have some news.”
Michael pushed away from the bookcase. “What is it, Tom? Did you find them?”
“I’ve been all over town and into some old haunts I would have preferred never to frequent again. However, I didn’t find them.”
It was unbearable waiting for information. Despite his throbbing head, Jacques was about to tear London to bits. “Why did you come all this way, then?”
Thomas nodded. “I found a trail of information about the carriage and even a few sightings of Caron, though probably too late in the night to be related to the kidnapping. I tracked them to the port. They must be somewhere near or at the docks. I found a woman who heard feminine voices around eleven.”
Finally, something to go on. Jacques would only have to tear the port of London to pieces.
