‘Did she leave with anyone, a gentlemen perhaps?’ Edward’s grasp tightened on the paper in his hand and it crumpled in his fist. If Michael Chorley had taken her, he would destroy the man.
‘I am sure there were no callers this morning.’
Edward’s mind whirled with possibilities. Could she have run away from him? No, it did not seem likely. She had clung to him, begging him to carry on last night and had curled into his side when it was all over. True, she had not been there when he had woken in the morning, but that was most likely to avoid any scandal.
‘Where does she go when she leaves?’ asked Christopher.
When nobody answered, Edward looked around to see everyone was staring expectantly at him. ‘I do not know.’
That was the sort of thing one should know about one’s future wife, wasn’t it? That was it, the last piece of the picture, which pushed him over the edge; now he was falling, plummeting to the ground with nothing to catch him.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Christopher.
‘To find her.’ Because no other outcome was possible.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Kate had no idea how long she worked. Her hands stung from the cold water she had fetched from the pump outside and her back ached where she had stooped over the unconscious woman. She’d managed to change the woman’s clothes, but there were no cleaner bedsheets to put on, so she had to return her to the soiled ones.
Kate had tackled the table next, very nearly bringing up last night’s meal as she threw things she could not identify into the small back yard behind the house. Unfortunately, the work did not occupy her mind and, as the time passed, she pondered her future and what it could look like. Knowing this poverty existed in the world, she could not imagine herself as the pampered wife of a member of the Ton. If she’d had any doubt on the matter, this morning had solidified her thoughts. Being a wife was not in her future, unless… but no, she had already dismissed Edward as a future husband. Lovely though he was, as much as she was coming to adore him, she could not see herself sitting in Glanmore House eating food using a myriad of cutlery to eat her meals. And she would not ask him to step into her worldeither. No one should be made to give up their way of life and she could not imagine him being able to cope with the disorder her future might bring. Her throat ached at the idea of giving him up, of not seeing him again, but the sooner it was done, the better. The longer she spent with him, the more likely she was to fall irrevocably in love and then it would be even harder to leave.
The kitchen was starting to look reasonably in shape when she heard the sound of the front door; the boys were returning. She glanced at their mother, but there was no change in the woman’s demeanour.
‘Miss,’ said Pete, his eyes wide, his breath little more than quick pants. ‘There’s a gentleman; he’s looking for you. He’s right angry. A fancy cove.’
For a wild moment, Kate thought Chorley might have found her, but no sooner had the thought formed than Edward’s wide form was filling the doorway. She wanted to run to him, to put her head on his chest, the longing so intense she went weak from it. From the way his eyes glinted, fury simmering in their depths, she guessed he would not welcome her in this instance and so she held back, hands still in the icy water. Pulling them out, she dried them on her skirts.
‘You disappeared,’ he growled for want of a greeting. ‘No message. No note, nothing. Do you have any idea? It has been nearly five hours, Kate. Five hours of not knowing where you are and whether or not…’ He ran a hand over his face. ‘We thought Chorley had threatened you or found you. Emily is beside herself. I…’ He pointed to his chest as words failed him.
Her fingers trembled against her skirts as she imagined the Dashworths’ worry, Emily’s sweet face teary. It had not occurred to her that anyone would notice she was no longer in the house. Her visits to the brothers were frequent and no one had ever questioned her before. Besides, she was used to doing thingsalone and not owing anyone an explanation. In the light of Edward’s furious distress, it was obvious she had made a serious miscalculation. ‘I am sorry; I did not think. Pete came and told me he needed me and I reacted.’
‘I do not understand why you would not tell a soul, why you would not come to me after…’ He turned away from her, his lips pressed tightly together.
‘I…’ It hadn’t occurred to her because she had not imagined any one of the gently bred members of Glanmore House would want to sully their hands with anything like this. If she had asked and they had denied her, something inside of her would have broken and she would rather not have risked it.
When she didn’t continue with her answer, Edward turned to the older boy, ‘Pete, is it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Is this your mother?’ He pointed to the sleeping woman.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I take it she is not well and this is what necessitated Miss Hornel’s presence in your home.’
Pete frowned. ‘I don’t understand, Sir.’
Edward tried a different tack. ‘Does your mother need a doctor?’
‘Yes, sir. But he won’t come cos we don’t have the money.’
Edward nodded briskly. ‘Give him my card.’ He pulled one out of his waistcoat and handed it to the boy. ‘Tell him to come immediately and I will personally see he gets paid.’
Pete didn’t need telling twice; he took the card and ran.
Edward turned to Pete’s little brother. ‘What is your name, young man?’
‘Silas.’ The child was staring up at Edward as if he were a magical creature. In his exquisite clothes and artfully arranged hair, he must have seemed like something out of a story to the youngster.
