Page 41 of Lady, Behave
“Shhh, quiet now, both of you.” Welles gathered both Cass and Laurel into his bear-like embrace. “Listen to me. Tell me where he lives.”
Cass thought a moment. “With his father, the Earl of Davenport. In a townhouse in Hove. West of here. Fellowes stays there with the earl for a few weeks on holiday.”
“Wants a wife,” said Laurel. “Adelaide, to be precise.”
“But she doesn’t want him,” Cass said. “All the more reason for him to take her.”
“She insulted him,” Laurel said.
Cass turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“She did! Well, he insulted her first. So she had to give him the cut, didn’t she?’”
“The earl? Tell me about him.” Welles lifted Cass’s chin. “Is he one of these righteous types? Must I go in all hellfire and brimstone?”
Cass shook her head. “I don’t know him that well.”
“I’ll use it on him anyway. Works best when cooperation is the goal. I’ll need one or two more men. And Heath’s best friend is Martindale, but he’s in London on his honeymoon with Adelaide’s sister,” Welles said with a quick glance toward Laurel. “I wish to take a few friends. For one, Heath’s and my mutual one.”
Cass noted he let the question of the identity of his friend hang in the air for Laurel’s consideration.
Laurel looked miserable. “Anyone who can get Addy back, I applaud. Of course. Ask Lord Grey.”
“We need him, sweetheart.”
“I know, Cass. We cannot call up the watch. The scandal would be so great we’d never live it down.”
Cass sniffed. “Exactly. And we must get Addy back without her being ruined.”
“What of Fellowes?” Laurel said, anger mixed with her tears. “Heneeds to be ruined! A man of the cloth abducting a woman. It’s outrageous.”
Cass hugged her close, but her gaze was on Welles. “Get Grey. He’ll have servants he trusts. The Grey Mansion on the Steine is his family’s, and they are known for hiring footmen who are strapping big men.”
“Consider it done!”
*
The sun shoneover Brighton in a lovely blaze of summer light as Gyles’s traveling coach pulled up to his new rental on the Steine. Across the street, a few houses north, he noticed odd activity at Grey’s family home.
He alighted and took another look. Three fine horses were reined to the post. But what made him startle were the rifles strapped to all the saddles.
“Go home, Shelby,” he told his groom. “Alert the other grooms in the mews that I need my stallion. At once. Oh, and James,” he said to his valet whom he’d brought down from London with him, “prepare the master suites as best you can.”
Curious, he crossed the busy thoroughfare and walked into the wide-open front door. Going up the main stairs was Grey’s butler, normally as placid as still water. At the sound of Gyles’s footsteps, the old man whirled and stared at him, shaking. “What’s the matter, Porter?”
“Terrible, my lord. A lady is missing.”
“Awful news. Who is it?”
Porter winced, the old man not able to keep concern from his rheumy eyes, “One of those pretty Irish girls.”
Gyles went still as death. “Which?”
“Miss Adelaide Devereaux. Abducted.”
His heart dropped to the floor. “Grey knows?”
“Aye, sir. He’s in the family library. Upstairs.”
