Blast it all but he’d been unable to take his mind from Lady Edith—and their kiss—followed by her quick departure. Not a piece of him had wanted to see her go. Not long before their kiss, he’d been infuriated with her; however, a simple embrace—that was in no way simple—had extinguished his anger and flared another emotion entirely within him.
She’d compared him to an ox—and a druid warrior—an arrogant ox with dubious friends.
Everything had transpired so rapidly, Triston hadn’t made the connection between the first page of her journal and the London Daily Gazette until he’d called for his carriage to be brought round.
Mayfair Confidential.
It was a weekly column in the Gazette, nothing more than unfounded gossip, though the writer claimed to have substantiated all stories. To Triston’s satisfaction, the column hadn’t come to be until after his own brush with scandal.
He’d been shocked and insulted to think Edith had set her sights on him, gone to the great risk of embroiling them both in a new scandal, all for a story. She’d be disappointed to learn, as gentlemen of the ton went, he was a rather boring fellow. Triston had seen enough upset and heartache to last him a lifetime. Certainly, he enjoyed himself on occasion, but nothing scandalous or noteworthy; especially with Pru and Chastity joining the marriage market this Season.
Speaking of Prudence and Chastity…he spotted his sisters on the far side of the ballroom, once again hidden behind a large palm.
He shook his head at their foolish notion of remaining unseen until they were ready.
Did they not understand what was at stake if they did not settle on matches this Season? There would not be a next for them. It had taken all of Triston’s persuasive tactics to convince his father to allow the girls at least one Season before Esmee became with child and she insisted they all move to the country until after the babe was born. There was no guarantee his father’s wife would allow his siblings a future Season after.
Regardless, he was surprised to see Pru and Chastity alone.
He scanned the crowd once more, looking for a familiar raven-haired witch, but a far different—but no less deadly—stare met his. Her eyes not icy blue but a deep emerald.
Before he had enough sense to flee, Lady Lucianna and Lady Ophelia strode in his direction.
If he were a wise man, which he’d even more come to believe he was not, Triston would turn now, return to his lodgings, and not venture into society again.
“My lord,” Lady Lucianna hissed, stopping before him, unconcerned a proper introduction had yet to be made between them.
“Lady Lucianna, I have heard a great deal—”
Her narrowed stare had his words catching in his throat.
“Where is Edith?” Lady Ophelia asked, her wavy, deep red hair far more fiery than her words.
“Why in heavens name would you presume I know anything about Lady Edith’s whereabouts?” he posed.
He knew his mistake immediately when Lady Lucianna snorted and crossed her arms, and Lady Ophelia gasped, pressing her fan to her chest before quickly snapping it open to cool her face.
“We know she has been keeping an eye on you,” Lady Lucianna continued. “We were to meet before the ball, but Lord and Lady Shaftesbury said she left Hyde Park earlier under the guise of spotting us.”
“But we were not at the park today,” Lady Ophelia replied, looking to Lady Lucianna for reassurance. “And Edith never returned home. Her parents came around looking for her.”
Lady Lucianna kept her glare on him. “Which means, she followed you.”
“This is preposterous,” Triston retorted. He didn’t want to mention the likelihood that Edith following Abercorn was just as convincing as the theory Lady Lucianna had settled upon. An inkling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach, despite his proclamation. He slammed his hands into his pockets and rolled back on his heels. “There is no way you can know I was at Hyde Park today.”
“Oh,” Lady Lucianna cooed, and Triston suspected she was about to snap the trap shut around him. “Lady Prudence and Lady Chastity were more than happy to share the news of their ride in the park today…accompanied by you, my lord.”
Triston glanced between the two women, each with their brows raised in question as if they’d expected him to lie and were happy to confront him with the damning proof he’d requested. There was little use denying it. While they suspected Edith had followed him from the park, he knew she had.
But she’d departed Langworth Inn almost two hours prior. That was plenty of time for her to dress and attend to her friends, yet, Ames hadn’t returned before Triston had departed. He did not know for certain she’d arrived home without anything going awry.
“Where is she, Torrington?” Lady Lucianna took a menacing step toward him. While the woman was very thin, her height rivaled his. “I can see you know something you are not telling us.”
It was none of their concern if Triston were hiding something from them; however, it had been his responsibility to make sure Edith arrived home safely—and he’d forsaken her. He’d failed, as he had with so many things in his life. The notion of pleasing everyone, doing exactly what an honorable gentleman would, was daunting. And everything had gone wrong again. Perhaps he would be wise to not put so much time into helping others. It never seemed to work out.
“I do not think he is going to tell us what we need to know,” Lady Lucianna mused. “Ophelia, I think it is time we send for the magistrate. Allow him to handle things before Torrington has the opportunity to change his story and consort with his sisters to gain their cooperation in the matter.”
“If you do that, I will tell all of London that Lady Edith is behind the Mayfair Confidential column in the Gazette.” Triston watched the pair closely. He suspected Edith was not the only one behind the column, and he highly doubted her friends would allow her to take the fall if society placed the blame solely on her.
Neither woman moved.
Lucianna scowled at him, her brow wrinkling in displeasure, while Lady Ophelia once again looked as if she’d faint if she did not gain a spot of fresh air.
“Now—“ It was Triston’s turn to glare. “I think it best we step outside and discuss this matter…in private.”
The young women looked to one another before nodding in agreement.
“Since I arrived only a few moments ago, my carriage should still be waiting out front. I will meet you both there after I inform my sisters I will not be able to remain.”
“You will come promptly?” Lucianna asked. “This is not yet another charade?”
“I promise to not tarry overlong.”
“Ophelia, tell your mother you are ill and I will escort you home,” Lady Lucianna instructed. “And I will give my father a similar excuse.”
“That is wonderfully ingenious, Luci,” Ophela squealed before heading off in the direction of the refreshment table.
“We will wait at your carriage.” With a final glare, Lady Lucianna turned in search of her own family.
Triston scanned the crowd once more. His sisters hadn’t noticed his arrival yet, and blast it all, he couldn’t locate Esmee in the crush.
Edith could be in danger; he had no time to waste in finding her.
His gut screamed Edith had been speaking the truth all along—that Abercorn was indeed a threat. Though, just hours before, he would have assumed it just as likely she’d be set upon by thieves on the London streets as it would be that Abercorn meant anyone any harm. He’d been a fool to dismiss her concerns so swiftly.
Finally, Prudence and Chastity caught his stare and hustled over to him.
“You have arrived,” Pru sighed.
“Guess who spoke to us. You will not believe it,” Chastity gushed.
“I do not have time to chat, dear sisters,” Triston said, continuing to search the room. “Where is Lady Downshire?”
“She deposited us here and demanded we act accordingly until your arrival.” Prudence narrowed her gaze on hi
m, likely noting his tense shoulders. “She said you would see us home safely at the end of the night. Why do you ask?”
Blast it all. Triston did not have time for any of this. It was quite possible that Edith had arrived home without incident, but he needed to know for certain. However, he could not leave his sisters here without a chaperone, or a means to arrive home.
“You needs must come with me.” Triston pivoted and started for the door, not waiting for any response. “Come along.”
His sisters burst into action and followed quickly behind him as he exited the ballroom and departed the front door.
“Our wraps!” Chastity cried, but didn’t pause to wait for the servant to find and return them.
“Come,” Prudence hissed. “Something is afoot and I, for one, want to find out what. Triston is never in such a tizzy.”
A tizzy? At any other time, he would have chuckled at Pru’s use of the word, but not this day. He was in a tizzy…soon to be a frenzy if they didn’t locate Edith with all due haste.
Just as he’d requested, Lady Lucianna and Lady Ophelia waited by his carriage.
Bloody hell, but Triston hadn’t realized he’d be sharing the carriage ride with not only Edith’s close friends but also his sisters. Four women in one carriage.
They all seemed surprised to see one another.
Pru’s and Chastity’s surprise showed in overexcited shouts of glee, while Lucianna and Ophelia gave him quizzical looks but greeted his sisters kindly.
“What is amiss?” Pru asked, taking Lucianna’s hands in hers. “Triston is fairly out of his mind with worry.”
“As he should be.” Lucianna threw an accusatory frown in his direction. “But what are the pair of you doing here? You should be enjoying your evening at the ball.”
“I am depositing them at home before we set off for Lady Edith’s townhouse.” Triston signaled for his coachman to set the steps down for the woman to enter. “Can we be off?”
“Lady Edith Pelton?” Chastity whispered to Ophelia. When the auburn-haired woman nodded in confirmation, his sister clapped her hands in anticipation. “Must we go home, brother?”
“Yes!” Triston replied in unison with both Lady Lucianna and Lady Ophelia. He cleared his throat and lowered his tone. “We will drop you at home, and I promise to gladly escort you wherever you demand in the future.”
Pru and Chastity gave him mirrored pouts as he swung his arm wide, motioning for them to enter the carriage.
“Take us to the Downshire townhouse, quickly, if you please,” Triston commanded.
Triston took his seat between his sisters with Edith’s friends sitting opposite. They tried not to scowl at him and keep their questions unvoiced until they deposited Pru and Chastity, but they were failing miserably at both.
All while Triston attempted to keep his unease at bay.
“Tell me what you know,” he demanded. His sister’s presences be damned.
“Why do you not tell us what you know first?” Lucianna notched her chin high.
“This is outlandish.” Did they not understand he cared about Edith as much as they did? He’d known full well the risks she was taking spying on Abercorn, and yet he’d thought the situation harmless, all things considered. As far as Triston was concerned, Abercorn wasn’t a scoundrel. He wasn’t a man prone to violence. Triston would have known, would have heard something. “Lady Edith did, in fact, follow me from the park this afternoon—all the way to my lodging.”
Chastity gasped beside him. “All the way across the river?”
Lucianna and Ophelia shared a skeptical glance. “And what did you do when you found her at your lodging?”
“Yes, brother,” Pru begged, clasping her hands. “What did you do?”
Triston was uncertain what luck he still possessed, but mercifully, they arrived at his father’s townhouse then. The coachman pulled into the drive, but Triston didn’t wait for him to climb down from his perch; instead, he opened the door himself and leapt to the ground.
Holding his hand out, his sisters stepped down one at a time.
“Is Lady Edith in danger?” Pru wrung her hands before her, knotting the handle of her handbag. “Tell me you have naught to do with this. We only just met Lady Lucianna and Lady Ophelia.”
“We desperately want to call them friends.” Chastity set her hand on his sleeve.
“I cannot say if Edith is in danger or not, but I can assure you, I have nothing to do with her disappearance.” He placed a quick kiss to each of his sister’s cheeks. “Now, allow me to see you to the door.”
His father stood in the doorway when they arrived. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I must return the girls a bit early due to an unforeseen incident.” Triston squared his shoulders, prepared for his father’s wrath. The man did not disappoint.
“What have you done now, Triston?”
“I cannot speak to the matter at this moment, Father, but I will tell you as soon as I know exactly what has transpired.”
“Yes, Father,” Pru said, coming to his defense. “It is a grave matter indeed.”
“Where is Esmee?” Downshire peered over Triston’s shoulder. “Why did you not leave the girls in her care?”
“Stepmother did not remain with us at the ball,” Chastity said.
“She instructed us to keep out of trouble until Triston arrived to see us home.”
His father eyed Pru and Chastity, a hint of question in his glare. However, though the man always thought the worst of Triston, he loved his children and never questioned his daughters when they spoke.
“Callahan!” Downshire shouted. “Where is Lady Downshire?”
His father’s aging butler appeared in the foyer, his lips pressed together in a grimace as his eyes ping-ponged from Triston to Downshire to the girls.
“I must take my leave, Father.” Triston gave the man a curt bow. He had no intentions of remaining to hear about Esmee’s latest flight of fancy. “Again, I am sorry you had to leave the ball this evening.”
“Do not fret,” Chasity replied, stepping forward to squeeze his hand. “We only hope you find her.”
“Find who?” Downshire demanded as Triston turned to depart.
“We will tell you all, Father.”
“My lord?”
Triston halted at the unease in the butler’s voice.
“My lady returned after dropping Lady Prudence and Lady Chastity at the ball. I saw her lady’s maid rush a large satchel to the marchioness’s waiting carriage.”
It was nothing more than his father deserved. Esmee was leaving him and running away with another. Much as she’d done to him two years prior. He’d begged his father not to trust the viperous woman, but he’d needed to discover the fact on his own.
“Did she tell you where she was headed?”
“I believe her maid said she’d be away for several days.”
Triston shook his head. He could not concern himself with his father’s hellion of a wife—he had his own wayward woman to find.
Without another wasted moment, he stomped from the house. Movement next to his father’s townhouse caught his eye. A horse was tethered to the tree Edith had fallen from over a week prior.
Triston hurried to the animal—a mare.
She pranced in place anxiously.
What was the horse doing here? Edith must be close, possibly eavesdropping on Lord Abercorn once more, but no light shone from his townhouse’s windowpanes. There was no way she’d leave without her horse…especially after the sun had set. She must be close.
His heart spiked as he scanned the area. Maybe she’d decided to climb another tree and she’d fallen again—this time injuring herself.
On the ground, not far from the tethered beast, Triston spotted something familiar.
Edith’s journal!
She would never depart without her notes.
Triston pushed a leaf from the leather-bound book and picked it up.
“What is it?” La
dy Lucianna had departed the carriage and stood a few paces from him. “It looks to be Edith’s mare, Poppy.”
Triston could not nod, not without taking his stare off the journal he held.
He attempted to flip open the book, but his finger slipped on something moist marring the cover.
It was too dark to see properly, but he brought his wet finger to his nose.
Salt…and copper. He rubbed his forefinger and thumb together. The liquid making his skin sticky.
Every sense Triston possessed heightened. The night breeze rustled a patch of fallen leaves, the horses neighed to be returned to their warm stables, and his entire body hummed with anticipation.
Panic? Dread? Rage?
Triston allowed each to overtake him in due course. He lived a thousand days in a blink of an eye.
“Is that…” Ophelia gasped, obviously following Lucianna from the carriage.
“Blood?” Lucianna finished.
Chapter 12
Edith’s fingers ached from trying to pry a nail loose from its hole. The continued bumps and dips in the road did nothing to lessen her pounding headache or the burden on her shoulder and hip. The area was in no way large enough to gain a sitting position.
She groaned, shifting once more to better shield her shoulder.
It was still dark outside, the morning sun not yet risen, but other than this, Edith had no notion if it were midnight or approaching sunrise.
In the hours she’d spent attempting to find a way out of the boot—and the moving carriage—she’d discovered the source of the punishing pain in her head. A knot had formed at her hairline—she’d been hit with something, splitting her skin.
Her ice-cold fear had thawed to frustration.
She’d screamed until her throat was raw. She’d begged to be released with no answers. She’d kicked, pounded, scraped, and banged at the wood surrounding her until every inch of her body ached with unseen bruises.
As the seemingly endless moments passed, Edith determined there was no possibility she’d break herself loose. The best she could do was conserve her strength and hope to gain her freedom once the carriage arrived at its destination.
The Disappearance of Lady Edith (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 1) Page 9