The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(3)

“Lady Worthington’s sister.”

“Where’s Worthington?” Somewhere close, Con hoped.

“His lordship is out of Town with her ladyship for a few days.” The butler glanced worriedly at the coach. “Hurry, please, my lord. You must save her.”

He glanced around, but for some reason, no one he knew was in the square.

Bloody hell!

This is not what he’d planned to do this afternoon.

“Tell me everything you know while I turn this rig around.” The sooner Con took care of this problem, the faster he could get back to his own business . . . and his mistress.

“Lady Charlotte was crossing the square from Stanwood House, where his lord and ladyship’s brothers and sisters live, to Worthington House, when two blackguards grabbed her. They threw her in that carriage and drove off.” The butler wrung his hands.

“Did she not have a maid or footman with her?” He couldn’t imagine Worthington being so careless with his charge.

“He did try to stop them, but it was too late.” The butler frowned as if he was still trying to figure out how he had failed to protect the lady. “After Lady Worthington—” The lines bracketing his mouth deepened. “What I mean to say is that for the first few weeks after his lordship’s wedding, there was more vigilance, but the children go back and forth so often, we didn’t think . . .” The butler took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “There was no reason to believe she or the others would be in danger.”

Con wanted to ask just how many children there were that Worthington would occupy two town houses, but that question would have to wait until later.

“Is it possible she eloped?” As scandalous as it was, the dash to Gretna Green wasn’t that uncommon. Although, it generally did not involve bullies.

Con’s only hope that this would be an easy task died a quick death when the servant’s features froze. Definitely not a pretty sight. No wonder Worthington wanted the man to smile.

“Indeed not, my lord.” The butler’s lips barely moved. “Her ladyship would never disgrace her family in any way.” The man glanced down the street in the direction of the carriage. “Please hurry, my lord. They are getting away.”

Con gritted his teeth. “I am turning the horses as quickly as I am able.” What a pity. That meant someone was intent on harming Worthington or his family. Then again, it could be an attempt to compromise the lady into marriage. “Inform Lord Worthington that I have gone to her rescue.” Con almost cringed. Devil take it. He sounded like a character out of those romances his sister liked. “Better yet, tell him I have it all in hand.”

“Yes, my lord. You might also wish to know that Jemmy, one of the younger boys, jumped onto the back of the coach.”

How young? Con wondered. Still, it didn’t matter. He hoped the lad would be helpful. If not, he would be rescuing a helpless lady and an equally useless boy.

Devil take it.

The Lords wasn’t in session today. He had no real reason to be out and about. He should have just stayed at Aimée’s house. If it had not been for a letter concerning a problem at his main estate—that still would not be taken care of—he would have been there, and not here chasing after some insipid young female.

Never mind that she was a friend’s sister; he had yet to meet a young lady who wasn’t too dull to bear. And this one would most likely be hysterical as well.

Con scowled. He had done nothing to deserve this inconvenience. He took care of his holdings and dependents, was active in the Lords, and he loved his mother and other family members, even if he did refuse to heed their exhortations to wed. He had plenty of time yet before he had to don a leg-shackle. His life was exactly as he wished it to be.

Until now.

An uneasy feeling like ants crawled up his neck. What rot. Now is not the time to become fanciful.

He’d rescue the girl, Worthington would owe Con a favor, and all would be well. With luck he’d be back in time for dinner with the lovely Aimée, and then the theater. Innocents held no interest for him at all. He didn’t even like being around them. Still, he could not refuse to help a friend.

Glancing up the street, he saw the coach was still in sight. “I shall return her to you soon.”

He gave his horses the office to start. Fortunately the pair was fresh and ready for some exercise.

Several minutes later, Con had time to take in the details of the vehicle he was following. Not so large, most likely it had once been a town coach. The boy—for the figure on the back was definitely a child, a small child—had a wide enough platform on which to stand. There were handles as well and no back window. The carriage had obviously belonged to someone who, while concerned for their servant’s comfort, did not wish to see them or vice versa. And that worked out well for Con. By the time whoever was in charge of kidnapping the lady—damn, what had the butler said her name was? Lady Charlotte. That was it—knew Con was after them, it would be too late for the blackguards to escape him.

Better yet, he might be able to steal the lady away when the coach stopped to change horses or for a rest. Stealth in these matters was much better than declaring his rank and making a scene. It would help no one if the girl’s reputation was ruined in the process.

Checking his pair, he stayed far enough back to blend in with the other traffic, but not so far away that there was a chance of losing them in the midday traffic. If he had brought his pistol, or there were not three of the blackguards, Con would have attempted to drive ahead of the coach and stop it. But there was too much traffic, and he did not have a death wish.