“Yes. Well, please be more vigilant in the future. It wouldn’t do to have anything happen to our guests, now would it?”
“No of course not, Your Grace,” the caretaker said as he continued to frown. Obviously trying to work out how he could have made such an error.
“Speaking of our guests,” the Duke said before the man could begin thinking straight. “I wish to see Miss Parker. Can you have her maid tell her I am here?”
The caretaker’s eyebrows shot to the top of his hairline as he glanced at the window next to the front door at the barely gray morning.
“Now, if you please,” the Duke said as he removed his hat to place it and his cane on a side table.
Mr. White swallowed hard as he turned to return to the servant’s quarters to retrieve Lizzy.
“I’m here, Your Grace,” the young maid said as she stepped out of the back hall before the caretaker could get her. Still dressed in her robe, the young girl curtsied then hurried up the stairs, constantly glancing back down at the Duke as if trying to discover the ultimate mystery of life.
The Duke began to pace. Would Ann be upset? Perhaps she had a second thought and wanted nothing more to do with him.
No, that was preposterous.
But would she be upset that he had interrupted her slumber? It had been a rather vigorous night after all. Or, when she saw him there, would she give him that special smile of hers. The one meant for just him. Would she blush, remembering their night together and all they had done.
He grinned as he remembered. Yes, he wanted to see that pretty blush on her cheeks when she thought about them.
God, it was amazing. He felt like a young lad with his first love.
Love? Was it possible? No, surely not. He was not the type of man who fell in love. Only undisciplined, weak men fell in love. Not him.
Yet?
“Your Grace,” Lizzy called from the top of the stairs with a small box and an envelope in her hands.
His stomach fell, the fear in her eyes sent a cold chill down his spine.
“Ann … “ the young maid stuttered “Miss Parker, Your Grace, she is gone.”
Chapter Nineteen
The Duke of Bedford gritted his teeth to stop himself from yelling loud enough to wake the dead.
“Gone?” he asked as he forced his voice to remain calm, even while the rest of him was fighting to explode.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Lizzy said as she held out the small box and slip of paper.
The Duke frowned as he took the paper and read the note.
Was this Ann’s handwriting? he wondered, how was it possible he could feel so close to her yet not know what her handwriting looked like?
“Please return this to His Grace,” the note said, nothing more. A simple instruction that said so much and yet left a thousand questions unanswered. Opening the box, he saw the necklace he had provided to Mrs. Jensen for Ann.
“Where did she go?” he asked as his heart raced. He needed to find her. What if something bad happened to her. No, she was his to protect. Yet, she had refused to allow him to do so. Leaving without telling him anything.
Closing the lid to the box he silently wished she had taken it with her. At least that way she would be taken care of. She deserved so much more, but with the necklace, she could have easily provided for herself. But no, the woman had returned it.
Not the act of a mistress, he realized. Every other woman of the ton would have assumed the necklace was hers and never returned it.
No, Ann was not such a woman. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons he loved her.
“I don’t know where she went, Your Grace,” the young maid said with a terrified expression, obviously afraid of disappointing her employer. “But the carpet bag is gone and two of her day dresses. Everything else is still there. Her gowns, fancy gloves, everything.”
She’d left her fine gowns. Why? Did she think he gave a care about some silly dresses? Again, she should have taken them. Even if she despised him. The dresses were worth a small fortune. What was the girl thinking?
“White?” he asked the caretaker.
The man shrugged his shoulders. “Miss Parker seemed perfectly happy when she returned last night.”
“He’s right, Your Grace,” Lizzy said with a vigorous nod. “Miss Ann was very happy, she enjoyed herself and said it had been very successful.” Here she gave him a knowing look about the deception they had conducted.
“This makes no sense,” he grumbled as he began to pace. Not even a note for him. How could she do this? Walk away as if he meant nothing to her. As if he had no value what so ever.
No, he thought suddenly. It was still early, perhaps she was even now but a short way away. Why hadn’t he thought of that? She could be at the corner trying to hail a cab.
Without a word, he turned and rushed from the house. He knew the servants would be gossiping about this for weeks. But he no longer cared. All that mattered was finding Ann.
.o0o.
Ann pulled her shawl close and wiped away a tear as she sat quietly in the back of the cab. It had been a silly expense, something she could not afford. But she couldn’t walk across London.
The Docks, it was her only hope. She had nowhere else in this world to turn. It might be the dregs, but they were her dregs. She could hide there. The quiet places, the occasional free apple or unattended purse. It was her only hope. Surely, Grainger was no longer looking for her. If she was careful, she could stay hidden until she could discern her future.
All she knew for certain was that she could not remain near His Grace. Not after the night they had shared.
Her heart would break each and every day. No, if she remained, she would become his mistress. Of that, there was no doubt. And was that really that much different than being sold to a Manchester brothel? Her body being used to pleasure a man who didn’t love her.
No, she couldn’t do it. Not and remain sane.
Every time she would know deep in her soul that he didn’t love her and never would. It had been obvious from the start. He thought of her as nothing more than a woman from the lower classes. Even the deception perpetrated on his mother had required two weeks of intense training. And that was to get her through a single night.
No, she did not belong in his world and never would.
As his mistress, she would not be allowed to share in the rest of his life. It would be long weeks alone, waiting for him. Only to have him walk away after a night shared in bed. Each time, a part of her would dissolve into nothingness.
And then, to know he was with other women. Eventually a wife. No. She couldn’t do it.
Wiping away a tear, she gritted her teeth to force herself to remain calm. At least calm enough to be aware of her surroundings.
The warehouse, she thought. The one she had almost gone to that night she had been rescued by the Duke. She would hide there. Her wages would help. It was amazing how long a person could last on a few shillings and the odd penny.
And when they were gone? Perhaps Mrs. Jensen could help her find new employment. She would have to time her approach when the Duke was not there. She couldn’t risk running into him. She would be lost.
As she stepped down from the taxi, the cabbie frowned at her. “Are you sure, Miss? This is not a part of town for the likes of you.”
Ann smiled up at him as she handed him his coin. “This is exactly where a woman like me belongs.”
He continued to frown as he tipped his cap then flicked his reins and was gone. Her last connection to the Duke’s world she realized as a sadness washed over her.
The air was filled with coal smoke and that particular smell of the Thames at low tide. Yes, this was her world she realized. Yet a part of her craved deeply the world she had been exposed to. The fine life of leisure and plenty. The world that didn’t worry about where its next meal was coming from. The type of world that didn’t have to hide in shadows.
It seemed so unfair, to be exposed to all of that. To be e
xposed to him.
A sadness filled her as she took up her carpetbag before she scurried across the cobblestones and into a dark alley.
That was his world and this was hers.
.o0o.
The Duke of Bedford was about to punch something. Anything. The anger inside of him threatened to explode. Storming into his house he yelled for a footman. James scurried out of the back followed by Mrs. Jensen shooting him a glare that would scorch a pot at a dozen paces.
“I want you to go to the Duke of Suffolk’s and deliver a message,” he said to the footman. When he saw the man was awake and aware, he stomped into his study to write a quick note. As he handed it to his footman, he told the man, “Do not leave until you see this placed in the man’s hand. Do you understand? Knowing him, he’ll be half asleep and refuse to see you. Don’t let his butler bully you. Tell him I insist.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” James said as he turned to hurry on his assigned task.
After the servant had left, Mrs. Jensen stood in the doorway and frowned at him.
“She’s gone,” he told her as his shoulders slumped in defeat.
The housekeeper’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Miss Parker,” he added for clarity.
The housekeeper’s frown grew even deeper as she slowly examined him, her eyes registering that he wore the same clothes as the night before.
Stepping into the room fully she closed the door behind her. “I thought you said last night that the mission had been accomplished. That your mother was no longer going to push marriage and would be returning to Norwich.”
He sighed heavily as his heart began to tear apart.
“She disappeared,” he said as he shook his head.
“Miss Parker?” she asked with a deep frown.
“Of course, Miss Parker,” he yelled as he began to pace.
The housekeeper frowned, then a pensive expression crossed her face.
“There was a man,” she said. “He came to the back door. He said he was looking for Miss Parker.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said as he ground his teeth.
“Who was he?” he demanded.
Mrs. Jensen continued to frown. “I didn’t like him. He was not from around here. Kept looking over my shoulder as if trying to find something of value to take.” I sent him away. Told him there was no Miss Parker here.”
His stomach turned over. Was it one of Grainger’s men? But, they had not taken her. She had left of her own free will.
“No word,” he said. “She didn’t even give me a chance to fix things.”
“Fix what, Your Grace? What is there to fix?”
He waved his hand as he began to pace. “I don’t know. Things.”
Mrs. Jensen scoffed and shook her head. “The girl doesn’t owe you a thing, Your Grace. It is a free country after all. Despite what you lot might think.”
He stopped pacing for a second as he tried to understand what it was, he wanted. Ann of course. But how? His mistress? His maid? … His wife?
The thought sent a bolt of realization through him. He wanted nothing more than to share his life with this woman. In any way she would allow. Yet, she had walked away before he could tell her that.
“Where would she go?” he asked Mrs. Jensen. “Did she come to you? Do you have her stashed in a backroom or some other house on someone else’s staff?”
The woman frowned for a moment and shook her head. “She didn’t come to me for help. A matter that I will be discussing with her if I ever get the chance. She should know that I could have helped her.”
His heart lurched. “If she comes to you. I am to be told immediately. Before she departs. Do you understand? And it is not your job to help her. It is mine.”
His housekeeper stared at him for a long moment before nodding in agreement.
“Inform the other servants. If anyone learns anything. I am to be told immediately.”
Mrs. Jensen paused for a moment. “Careful Your Grace, you don’t want word getting back to your mother.”
His stomach clenched at the thought of his mother discovering the truth only to relax when he realized he didn’t care. His mother was going to discover eventually. Especially when she was sitting in a church watching him and Ann being joined in matrimony.
“You let me worry about my mother. You worry about finding the girl. Use your web of connections. Find her for me.”
The housekeeper studied him for a long moment as is she was trying to decipher his motives. “Why? Your Grace. Why is it so important?
He was tempted to yell that it wasn’t any of her concern, but he quickly realized this was the one person he must not upset. Her help in discovering Ann might be invaluable.
“Because,” he said to her with a steady stare. “She is to be my wife and Duchess.”
It shocked him when Mrs. Jensen looked down to hide a smile. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought this had all been her plan from the very start. To have him fall in love with a woman who didn’t want him.
No, it was impossible, too many things had been coincidence. The incident at the docks. His mother’s arrival. No, the thought was ridiculous.
“Of course, Your Grace. I will see what I can do.”
He sighed with relief. Mrs. Jensen would find her. If anyone could find someone it would be her. The woman had more contacts than the King’s secretary.
The Duke nodded as he folded his hands behind his back and began to pace. Where was she? The docks. No, she wouldn’t have returned there. Where? Was she even now walking the streets of London, lost, alone? The thought sent a cold chill through his body.
He continued to pace as he fought to keep the panic at bay. Action. He needed something to attack. Something to defeat. This not knowing. This foggy unknown was crippling.
Never in his entire life had he felt this sense of worry. This loss of control. It was a strange, terrifying feeling that he hoped to never experience again.
Where was the woman? he asked himself as he ground his teeth.
Chapter Twenty
The Duke of Bedford continued to pace as he tried to decide which step to take next. His stomach churned. The wrong decision could lead him down the wrong path and wasted time.
Yet, no decision was a decision in and of itself. He must pick a path and start.
The click of the study door pulled him back to awareness. Ian stepped into the room with a deep frown. The Duke of Bedford let out a long sigh. He always knew he could depend on his friends. That had always been the situation with the Duke’s Club. They would sacrifice all for each other.
“This had better be important,” Ian said as he pulled up a chair and plopped down. “I’ll have you know I had only just returned home when your man arrived. My bed is calling.”
Brock snorted. Why was he not surprised? Ian had a reputation in town as a lady’s man. With more than a few widows and fallen women very willing to share his bed. It seemed they couldn’t get enough of the artistic Duke. A man with all that money and a poetic soul was just too much of a temptation.
“She’s gone,” he said as if that explained everything.
Ian studied him. “I assume we are talking about Miss Parker? I can’t think of anyone else that would upset you more. Unless it was Mrs. Jensen, and I just saw her when I came in.”
Brock sighed heavily as he sat down. “Yes, Miss Parker. She has disappeared.”
“Was she taken?”
Brock’s stomach clenched up at the thought until he remembered the note.
“No. she wasn’t taken. But, if I don’t know where she is, I can’t very well guarantee that it won’t happen in the future now can I?”
His friend dipped his head to the side. “The last I remember. We abolished the medieval restraints on peasants and servants several centuries ago. The woman has a right to go where she wishes.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Bedford barked.
Ian laughed, “Oh, now I see. You’ve fallen
in love with the wench.”
Bedford’s shoulder’s tightened, “She is not a wench and I won’t have you talking about her that way. Not the woman who is to become my Duchess.”
A long slow smile creased the Duke of Suffolk’s face as he nodded. “You know I hold Miss Parker in the highest regard. But has it ever occurred to you that she does not wish to become your Duchess? You can be a little intimidating after all. Perhaps …”
“No,” the Duke of Bedford hissed through tight lips. Calm down, he told himself as he repeated himself. “No. I need her to tell me so directly. It is the only way I will let the matter go.”
Ian nodded slowly. “So, what are your plans and what may I do to assist?”
Bedford sighed once again. “That is it. I don’t know where to begin. Mrs. Jensen is working her connections. But I don’t think Ann would have gone into someone else’s employ. She hasn’t had the time.”
“Would she have returned to the docks?”
The Duke took a deep breath to hold back the rising terror. What if she had? What if the fool had walked back into the lion’s den?
“Jack has just returned,” the Duke of Suffolk added, referring to their friend Capt. Jack Hardy of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. “They have finished testing out their dockside repairs and have returned to load stores and receive their orders. The man might know someone who could help. But we must hurry. There is no telling when he sails again and he’ll be gone for months, if not years. I believe he and his ship are being assigned blockade duties off the French coast.”
Bedford shook his head slowly. “I tell you. I doubt she would return to that part of town. There are things that you are not aware of that tell me it would not be wise on her part.”
Ian nodded slowly. “I imagine the woman is upset. Alone, penniless…”
Bedford cringed inside. It sounded even worse when his friend said it.
“Someone that desperate will often make a mistake,” Ian continued. “I understand how intelligent Miss Parker is,” he said as he held up his hands to stop his friend jumping to her defense. “But even the wisest of us make errors. And like anyone, when we are pushed, we return to the things we know.”
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