Jo was conscious only of Reade. “I’m so glad you came.” It gave her a jolt to recognize how important he’d become in her life.
Reade angled Ash in beside her mount. “What has brought you here, Miss Dalrymple?”
“Something terribly worrying has happened,” she gasped. With a deep breath, she rushed to tell him. “My friend Charlotte Graham has disappeared.”
Miss Dalrymple, Joanna, was clearly frightened. Reade glanced back at the young maid trailing behind them. “Tell me more slowly,” he ordered, his voice low and insistent, his attention caught by a fiery lock curling against her satiny cheek and her firm little chin beneath the black hat. “Charlotte went to the park with Mr. Virden in his curricle. But he left her at the gate. Her chaperone hasn’t seen her since.”
His blood ran cold. “She was with Virden?”
“Yes, and I thought…”
“Thoughts have no place here,” he said, concern making him abrupt. “We need to look at the facts. Did Miss Graham mention anything that might help us find her?”
Her scared eyes sought his. “I’ve been going over and over it. Only that Mr. Virden expressed an interest in her. She thought he might propose.”
“What are her circumstances?”
“Charlotte lives with Mrs. Lincoln, the lady her grandfather engaged as her chaperone. Her grandfather lives in the country.”
“Is the family affluent?”
“Not especially. Charlotte said she didn’t have a large dowry. She has no other relatives.” She swallowed the lump in her dry throat. “Something else I recalled, which may have no bearing on this, but Charlotte mentioned a debutante, Anabel Riley, who suddenly disappeared last Season.”
He nodded. “We must deal first with Charlotte, but tell me about Anabel, and describe Charlotte to me.”
“Anabel was an orphan, staying with an aged aunt who has since died. That’s all I know about her. Charlotte is above average height and very slender. She has golden hair and brown eyes.”
As they walked the horses, he listened while Joanna told him about the young lady. “She considers herself too tall to attract a husband, but her grandfather is determined to see her wed.”
What had Virden done with her? Got one of his scoundrels to kidnap her? Would the girl stand a chance when she’d been gone for days? He doubted anything could be done for Anabel. Were either of them still in London? Or even alive? He ordered his thoughts for the search, which he would put in motion as soon as he left Joanna. They reined in at the end of the Row. “I’ll ride with you to the stables.”
Her eyes beseeched him. “Reade, what will you do to find her?”
“I intend to look for her, Joanna. But you must leave it in my hands.”
“Do you think a procuress abducted Anabel and Charlotte?”
He cursed under his breath. Joanna was smart. He might have known she’d consider the possibility. He didn’t want her anywhere near this investigation. “There are many reasons for a girl to leave London. Not all of them bad.”
“I know you will find her, but let me help, please. Tell me what to do.”
It tore at him to see the trust in her eyes. She believed he wrought miracles. He could not tell her of his worst fears. “You will help me by staying safe and letting me deal with it.”
“Do you think the same people took Charlotte as those who abducted Sally?”
“That I don’t know. If I have news, I’ll send you a note. In the meantime, I’ll advise Bow Street.”
“I thought we might utilize Sally’s experience to find her.”
He groaned inwardly. “I don’t see how.”
She looked at him keenly. “We could retrace the route the jarvey took when he drove Sally home.” Jo glanced behind her. A group of riders had captured Sally’s attention. “Sally might remember something which leads us to the lady who helped her. Anything might happen after that. But I wish I knew why they let Sally go.”
His jaw tightened. “Most probably because she has people who care about her.”
“But Charlotte has Mrs. Lincoln.”
“We don’t know yet what happened to Charlotte. London is a big city.” His gaze took in the determined set of her slim shoulders and her curvy figure in the riding clothes. “But I promise you, I’ll do my utmost to find her, even if she has married and is living in Scotland.” Was it a reckless promise?
“If she planned to marry, Charlotte would have confided in Mrs. Lincoln. I believe she was fond of her and would not want her to worry. She would also have told me.” She paused. “You think something terrible has happened to her, don’t you?”
“Let’s wait, shall we, until we find out more.”
“I know you will do all you can, Reade.”
They joined Sally and turned the horses toward the park stables.
“I wonder if Mr. Ollerton might be an acquaintance of yours?” she asked. “He recently called on us.”
He frowned. There seemed a lot of gentlemen calling on Joanna. “Ollerton? I don’t believe so. Who is he?”
“The second son of Viscount Cranswick.”
What the devil? Reade turned to her sharply. “I’ll escort you home.”
“There is no need. Sally is with me, and it’s only a few blocks from the stables to my home.”
“Indulge me. You have exhibited a knack for getting yourself into hostile situations.”
“In Mayfair?” She turned on the saddle to scowl at him. “That hardly seems fair.”
“I know of Viscount Cranswick. He hails from the north, as do I. To my knowledge, he has only one son.”
“But can you be sure of that?” she asked as they rode across the grass.
“Do not see him again.”
“You are ordering me?” She raised delicate eyebrows. “Aren’t you being a trifle hasty? You said you don’t know him.”
“It’s not an order,” he said evenly, aware that commanding Joanna to do anything was unwise. “I am appealing to your commonsense. That fellow is obviously not who he says he is.”
“But he described his father and his home so vividly! Even his brother, Julian, who is away in the navy. Do you suspect Mr. Ollerton to be a fortune hunter? I believe you are mistaken. He has expressed a desire for a quiet life in the country and is about to purchase a small property with money inherited from his mother. He is very polite. Aunt Mary is most impressed with him.”
“Then it appears he is a consummate liar.” Reade gripped the reins. Had she succumbed to a scoundrel’s charm? Damn it. He disliked being taken by surprise, and this was an unexpected and alarming occurrence.
“You accuse him of deceit. Yet you don’t know him.”
Reade clamped his lips on a curse. “We have your friend to concern us, until then, will you heed my advice?”
“But Mr. Ollerton will wonder at the change in me. He was to drive me to the park today, but I had to refuse him so I might meet you.”
He tightened his jaw. “It can’t be helped.”
“Yes, I quite see that. I just want to find Charlotte safe and well.”
Had he convinced Jo? She must obey him. If anything happened to her… He wrestled with unsettling emotions as he assisted the two women down from the horses.
They left the stables, and leading Ash by the reins, he walked with them up the road. Reade had wanted an uncomplicated life devoid of emotion, but he’d begun to wonder if that were true. His feelings deepened every time he saw Joanna. He couldn’t deal with it now. Emotions had no place here.
“Will you promise me not to go anywhere with Ollerton?” Outside her home, Reade mounted Ash and gazed down at her, noting the distress in her eyes and the determined shape of her mouth.
“I have no interest in seeing Mr. Ollerton. It’s Charlotte I care about. Please send word the minute you hear anything.”
With a bob, Sally disappeared down the steps to the servants’ quarters.
Charlotte had fallen foul of Virden. They had him under surveillance,
so Black would know if the scoundrel left her safely outside her chaperone’s house. If Virden had whisked the girl away, they would know where he took her. But something was amiss. Reade would have received word about it by now.
He hadn’t been about to risk revealing any of this to Joanna. She was so concerned for her friend he wasn’t confident she would leave the matter in his hands and go off tracing the maid’s journey, which might lead her into danger. The thought of losing her sent a bolt of fear through him. It pulled him up short. She was coming to mean too much to him.
Chapter Twelve
Reade’s eyes searched hers. “Joanna, promise me you won’t take any risks. I want nothing to happen to you.”
Her name on his lips made Jo weak at the knees. She wanted to run into his arms and have him carry her away. She wasn’t practical Jo from the country who knew what she wanted from life. Oh, God, she wanted him. His voice was low, husky, and imploring. Her pulse thrummed. She searched his eyes, which could look like brown velvet or hard as granite, depending on his mood. Was it concern or something more he felt for her? Or would she spend her life comparing every other man she met unfavorably to him?
His dark eyebrows lowered. “Promise?” he asked again, leaning forward in the saddle.
“I promise. Just find her, Reade,” she repeated. It wasn’t a lie. She wouldn’t be reckless.
“Shall I send you another feather if I hear anything more?” she called after him.
He shook his head, but a reluctant smile teased his lips. “A note will suffice. I pray there is no necessity for it.”
He urged his horse into a trot and left her.
A little giddy, she turned and climbed the steps. The parlor curtain twitched. With a sigh, she entered through the door held open by the butler.
“Mr. Ollerton has called, Miss Dalrymple,” Spears announced in a disapproving tone.
Alarm, like a cool breeze, crept up the back of her neck and brought her down with a thud. “Did my aunt speak to him, Spears?”
“He is with your aunt. They are in the parlor.”
Jo straightened her shoulders and entered the parlor.
Ollerton rose to his feet from beside her aunt on the sofa, where he appeared very much at home.
“Mr. Ollerton. How opportune to find you here, I planned to send you a note of apology.”
“Ah, Miss Dalrymple.”
Aunt Mary smiled up at her. “Jo, dear, I was just telling Mr. Ollerton how sorry you would be to miss him.”
Mr. Ollerton bowed. “I was most disappointed, Miss Dalrymple, but here you are.”
“I must apologize. It was a matter of some urgency, Mr. Ollerton,” Jo said, seating herself opposite him in an armchair. Before she could dredge up a convincing explanation, he held up his hand to silence her. “No need to apologize. Miss Hatton has told me about your missing friend, Miss Graham. It is most concerning. Have you learned anything about her whereabouts?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” Jo took the cup and saucer from Aunt Mary. “There seems nothing we can do. Charlotte might have left London.”
He raised his fair eyebrows. “Indeed? With no word to Mrs. Lincoln? While I hate to be condemning, it is not how a person should behave.”
“I’m sure Charlotte had good reason. I shall not judge her.”
“Quite so. How generous.” His smile seemed brittle and insincere to her, or was it because of Reade’s warning? Could Ollerton be one of those fortune hunters they spoke of? “You must forgive me. I am a trifle out of sorts. They have discovered another problem with my carriage. A crack in the axle. Your poor opinion of me for breaking our engagement distressed me so much, I had to come and explain.”
“That was good of you.” Without putting it into words, he pointed out how remiss she’d been not to notify him. She considered it manipulation and refused to apologize to him again.
He rose to make his departure and spent several minutes fawning, in Jo’s opinion, over Aunt Mary. Jo went out with him to find Sally hovering in the hall.
Mr. Ollerton moved past her maid without a glance.
“I need to see you in my bedchamber, Sally,” Jo said.
At the door, Ollerton would not take no for an answer as he extracted a promise to ride to the park with him when his carriage was, at last, in working order.
Jo returned to her aunt. Was he the fraud Reade had suggested? It was possible, although it no longer mattered. She would not see Ollerton again. Reade, whether there was ever anything more between them, filled her head, her heart, and her dreams.
“Such a pleasant gentleman.” Aunt Mary had taken up her knitting. “I hope you approve of me telling him about Miss Graham. When he stood before me looking so dreadfully disappointed, I quaked and found I had nothing in my head! And then the idea came to me. For one should always stick as close to the truth as one can, my father always said.”
“That was wise, Aunt. Where is Papa?”
“Mrs. Millet invited him to view the silverware gallery at the museum, as your father has an interest in engraved pieces.” Aunt Mary’s needles flew, the gloves she knitted taking shape. “I believe he grows fond of the lady, Jo.”
“It has occurred to me, too,” Jo admitted.
“I should be happy for him,” her aunt said. “But I cannot like it.”
Jo had been caught up with thoughts of Reade. Her aunt’s words brought her back with a jolt. “You dislike Mrs. Millet?”
“I can’t imagine her living in Marlborough. She seems very much at home here in London.” Aunt Mary looked up, concerned. “She told me about her cozy cottage here and how she loves her garden, especially her potted camellias. They are in flower. As the plant rarely does well in the city, she considers it quite an achievement. I just can’t imagine your father being content living in London, can you?”
“No. He misses our home, his friends, and Sooty.” Jo sipped the tea. She found it difficult to place her father with Mrs. Millet here, or anywhere. But he may marry whomever he chose. She trusted he would be happy for her to do the same. “I must ask Papa why he doesn’t like Lord Reade,” she said, biting into a jam tartlet.
“It was something Mrs. Millet said to him.”
Jo frowned. “What was that?”
“Mrs. Millet said the baron was a heartless rake who left a young woman…” she flushed and ducked her head, “at the altar when she was expecting his child!”
“What nonsense! I don’t believe it,” Jo said promptly.
“Oh, Jo, do be careful. He could be a despicable rake.”
“He isn’t, Aunt Mary. I am not easily taken in.”
Jo would know instinctively if it were true. She could never be drawn to such a man. But why would Mrs. Millet say such a thing? Letty had warned Jo against Reade, but that was because he didn’t plan to marry. Letty would not be on such friendly terms with him if he’d behaved so immorally. And if Mrs. Millet had heard such awful gossip, then Letty would have, too.
Jo made her way up the stairs to her bedchamber. She sought peace to think about Reade. What he had told her, but also how grave he’d looked. Her musings went on to his graceful stride and the way he moved his dark head, his deep voice. His strength and the masterful way he handled the big horse. A thrill went through her as she recalled being held in his muscular arms. But even in her dreams, she could not forget that he was merely intent on keeping her safe from harm.
When Jo entered her bedchamber, Sally stood nervously, coiling her hands in her apron.
“Has something upset you, Sally?”
“It was that gentleman, Miss Jo.”
“Mr. Ollerton?”
Sally nodded, her eyes owlish. “I smelled it again.”
Jo frowned. “You seem upset. Come and sit down.”
Sally perched on the edge of a chair, her shoulders shaking. It had brought back her dreadful ordeal.
Jo took her hands. “Now, what was this smell?”
“Licorice.”
“Oh?” Jo th
ought back. “Yes, you said your captor smelled of it. But, Sally, it’s just a sweet.” She thought for a moment. Her father had asked the butler about it. He had never said why.
“I wish we knew what happened, Miss Jo. It fair gives me nightmares wondering.”
“Lord Reade will find out, Sally.”
Sally sighed. “Yes. He is such a clever gentleman.”
As Reade approached the stables where he kept Ash, a horseman rode up to him.
“Just the fellow I want to see, Black,” Reade said, steadying Ash, who took a dislike to the other horse.
“Spied you riding up Upper Brook Street while I waited for Virden,” Winston said. “I hid behind a wall. Didn’t want the young lady to see me.”
Reade’s shoulders tightened. “I want to have words with Virden. Where was he?”
“Visiting the Dalrymple’s. He was there for two hours. He’s left now. Mitchell is following him.”
“Tell me. Did he pick up a fair-haired young woman and drive her to Hyde Park three days ago? And if so, why wasn’t I told?”
Black shook his head. “That shift was assigned to the recruit. Richards replaced Goodridge after he hurt his leg.”
“And did he report in?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Get onto Richards right away. I want to know where Virden took the girl and where he left her. Make this a priority, Black. I must see to my horse. Good day to you.”
“Good day, milord.”
Deeply troubled, Reade entered the stables and dismounted. What was Virden doing at the Dalrymple’s for so long? And while Joanna was away? Might he have business with her father? He had discounted Dalrymple as being involved. Was he judging the man by what he knew of his daughter? Dash it all, was he becoming a besotted fool?
As he worked on Ash with the curry brush, he considered Dalrymple. He didn’t like Reade, that was obvious. Reade hadn’t discovered the reason. Her father seemed an amiable fellow if Reade was any judge. Would he be able to fool his daughter, should he be caught up in something as seedy as this?
Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower Book 2) Page 12