Page 68 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
He walked back out to the hallway, catching the attention of a maid heading in his direction, beckoning her with a single nod.
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“Have you seen the duchess? I expected her to be in her room, but she isn’t. Do you know where she might have gone?”
The maid shook her head, her gaze tinged with uncertainty.
“N-No, Your Grace. I have not seen her, not since you both returned from the party,” she told him.
Unease settled beneath Graham’s skin.
He quickly moved down the corridor, walking in the direction of the foyer. There, he found more maids standing about, with the housekeeper, their worried whispers floating around the space. Once they noticed him approaching, the maids scurried to hide behind the housekeeper who seemed alarmed by his sudden appearance.
“Your Grace –”
“The duchess. Where is she?”
“I – we don’t know, Your Grace. We saw her leave the house a while ago. She had a letter in her hand and she looked as though she was in a hurry.”
A letter?
“Who delivered the letter to her? Do they know who sent it?” Graham asked, feeling more worried with every passing moment.
“No, Your Grace. I have tried to ask the other staff and Mr. Williams, but they all insist that none of them were the ones who gave her the letter. We do not know how she got it.”
Who would have sent her a letter? And how did it end up in Joan’s hands?
Georgina likely knew how to get into the house from her previous visits. She, more than anyone he could think of had a reason to ‘punish’ them for something she felt was wrong. She must have had something to do with this.
Without another word, Graham went outside, easily spotting Lysander waiting for him with two horses held by their reins.
“We are going to Georgina Brooks’ house, now,” Graham stated, mounting his steed.
Without another word, he set off, his heartbeat echoing thunderously in his ears.
Graham rode like the wind, his desperation to find his wife and child pushing him to go faster and faster, until the Farhampton house came into view.
Lysander had managed to keep up with Graham’s pace, though his concern was not concealed when he dismounted from his steed as they arrived, Graham already at the front door, banging his fist against it.
“Is something wrong? You seem even more... motivated to get into this house than you were when we talked earlier. I thought you only vaguely had suspicions about this woman,” Lysander said, eyeing his friend.
“Something is afoot and she knows exactly what it is,” Graham gritted out, before slamming his fist against the door again.
The door fell open slightly and the butler faced the unwelcome guests with a glare.
“Kind sirs, this is not an appropriate hour for guests. The mistress is –”
“I do not give a damn about your mistress’ feelings about receiving guests at this hour. I am the Duke of Rutledge, and I demand to speak with her at once,” Graham stated firmly.
Due to his widely known reputation, Graham did not need to introduce himself any further and the butler’s eyes widened with recognition and fear.
“My apologies, Your Grace. But I cannot –”
“I do not care. Open this door this instant and tell your mistress I would like to see her immediately.”
Wisely seeing reason, the butler swallowed and stepped back, opening the door fully so the men could come in.
Once they were inside, he quickly said, “I will inform the lady of the house.”
