A Wedding In Springtime(95)

“No, she is not with me.” Pen walked quickly down the central stairs. “Where is the duke? I need a word with him.”

“Not now, Miss Rose.” The duke strode from the study. “The letter is still there, but she has carefully removed the seal.”

“We need to find her.” Grant ran out of the house, his chest pounding. For a broken heart, it certainly made quite a racket. He looked up and down the street but could see no trace of her. It was as if she had vanished. He ran back inside the house where Marchford was giving quick instructions to the staff to search the house for her. After an agonizing few minutes, it was clear she was not there.

“Where could she be?” Grant ran his hand through his hair. He ran back outside and looked up and down the street.

“You know her better than I,” accused Marchford. “Where would she go?”

Grant took a slow breath and forced himself to think rationally. He would find Genie. He did not know why she had pretended to take the letter, but he did recognize that it had done nothing to reduce her hold over him.

“Let us go back to her house, search her room, look for clues, ask the servants. We must find something that can lead us to her,” said Grant.

Marchford nodded in agreement.

“Wait, Your Grace, I need to speak to you,” called Penelope.

“Not now, Miss Rose.”

“But I would suggest most strongly that we speak immediately,” said Pen.

“Not now.” The duke waved off his mother’s companion.

“But the letter.” Grant dropped his voice. “Can we leave it in the house?”

“We cannot,” replied Marchford in the same undertone. “So I will take it with us.” He patted his breast coat pocket.

Since Grant’s phaeton was hitched and waiting for him, they jumped into it to go to Bremerton house.

“I am going with you,” declared Penelope, who appeared wearing a sensible blue wool coat.

“Get back in the house,” demanded Marchford, but Penelope swung herself up beside him onto the seat of the phaeton, squishing herself next to him. Short of pushing her off, there was little Marchford could do about it.

“Can’t wait for you two to fight it out,” muttered Grant, and he snapped the reins, encouraging his bays to move at a fast clip.

“I really do need to speak to you alone,” pressed Penelope.

“Then you will have to wait,” quelled Marchford.

“As you wish,” replied Penelope, and said no more.

To say that Lady Bremerton was surprised to see the three of them was an understatement. “Marchford! Your Grace! How… how did you know she had gone?” Lady Bremerton put a delicate lace handkerchief to her eyes.

“Do you know where she has gone?” asked Marchford.

“No, no, I am so sorry, I do not know. Please believe me, I had no idea that she would do this. Oh, where is she?” Lady Bremerton began to openly weep.

Grant was startled. He had not counted Lady Bremerton among those who would mourn the loss of Genie.

“You must have some idea of where she might be,” pressed Marchford. “Did she speak to you of anything? Go anywhere in the past few days that was unusual?”

Lady Bremerton shook her head. “Lord Bremerton has gone after them, but I cannot trust that he will discover them in time!”

“Them?” demanded Grant. He felt a sick twisting in his stomach that was becoming all too familiar. “Who is she with?”

Lady Bremerton grew still and pursed her lips together. “No one. I do not know. I do not know where she is!”

“Did she leave a letter? Anything that might give us a hint?” asked Marchford.

Lady Bremerton tightened her grasp on a crumpled piece of paper and shook her head.

“What about her cousin? Does she have any ideas of where she is?” asked Grant.

“Oh that stupid gel,” Lady Bremerton blurted. “As if I did not have enough to deal with, now Genie has gone missing too. She is not with her, for I saw Genie early this morning after Louisa had already left.”

Silence filled the drawing room. Marchford sat down hard on a chair.

“Am I to understand that my fiancée is missing?” asked Marchford in a low, calm voice.

Lady Bremerton froze. “Did you not know?”

“Lady Louisa. The lady to whom I am betrothed. A lady for whom tonight I am holding a ball in her honor has run away? Is that correct?” asked Marchford in a businesslike tone.