Page 42 of Lady, Behave
Passing around Porter, Gyles took the stairs two at a time and entered the room like the furies were after him. Three men stood there. Grey checked his pistol. A giant of a man sheathed his sword. Fitz examined his dagger.
“Grey!” He waited not for formalities. “Porter tells me that Adelaide has been abducted?”
“It’s true. She did not return home from the Lanes an hour or so ago.”
Heath could barely form the words. “Do we know who did this?”
The giant in town clothes struck first with a nod of his head. “Colonel Magnus Welles, sir. Cass and her cousin Laurel suspect it was a curate by the name of John Fellowes. He’s a simpleton, lives in Hove with his papa.”
“Not for long, he doesn’t.” Wild with fear and anger, Heath took stock of the men before him. All fit young men. Just what he needed to get his darling back.
Chapter Twelve
Racing at topspeed along the Marine Parade, the four horsemen reined in before the red brick mansion of the Earl of Davenport as the sun was setting.
“I’ll go first,” Gyles told Grey, Captain Fitzroy, and Colonel Lord Magnus Augustus Welles.
Gyles bounded up the steps and banged on the front door. When the butler gingerly opened it, Gyles pushed it wide. “The son. John. Where is he?”
The butler, a formidable stuffy type, sought to puff himself up and bar the entrance. Gyles would have none of it. “Your master? Tell him the Marquess of Heath is here with Lord Grey, Colonel Lord Welles, and Captain Fitzroy. We demand to know the whereabouts of John Fellowes.”
When the butler tut-tutted him, Gyles grabbed him by the collar of his elaborately folded stock and said, “Now is the time, man.”
“Y-yes. Yes, sir.” And off he scurried up the main stairs.
“What is this? What intrusion is this?” came the insulted cry of an older man as he bustled along and finally stepped into view at the landing above.
“Your son, sir!” Gyles demanded of him. “Where is he?”
“You have no right—”
“I have every right. He has abducted my fiancée, sir. Is he here? If so,where?”
“He has done no such thing!”
Gyles had a moment when despair and brilliant flashing shards of a coming headache shot through him. He bit his lower lip.Not now, dammit!
‘Breathe, my darling,’ he heard Addy urge him. Indeed, the past few days, when all hell was amiss with negotiating his mistress’s pension, he had found calm in the midst of the storm. He’d used Addy’s syrup. He’d even refused all wine and whisky. He had improved. But this stress…
He slapped one hand to the huge silver carved newel…and quieted his nerves. He removed his pistol from its holster inside his frock coat and slowly looked up.
A wisp of a man appeared beside the earl. The two of them looked like peas in a pod. Wimps.
“How dare you come into my father’s home!”
His weapon pointed, Gyles was halfway up the stairs and climbing.
Little pea was stepping backward, or rather scurrying back like a rat.
“Where is she?” Gyles demanded, and gaining him, lifted him with one hand by his pompously tied stock.
Fellowes choked. “I—I can’t—”
“Where!?” Gyles shook him, and his little crooked teeth rattled.
“I—I just wanted to talk to her.”
“Where?” he boomed.
