The stranger turned to Emilia and gave her a charming smile. He was a handsome fellow, expensively dressed. “Your pardon, Madame. Lord Fitchley and I—”
She nodded, distracted. “Yes.” She ran after Nick, all the way to his office.
She found him leaning over his desk, hands braced wide on the polished surface, head bowed. “Tell me what happened,” he said without looking up as she burst in behind him.
Emilia told him—how Charlotte had been unable to sleep and had come to her, how she and Charlotte had heard the crash, how she had gathered both girls and hurried them to the kitchen, the devastation in the dining room, how Pearce and James had put out the fire. “The girls were both in the kitchen with Mrs. Watson,” she finished. “Safe in her sitting room with Chester! Mrs. Watson left them only to bring the sand buckets to the front of the house, and by the time I went for them, they were gone.”
“No one could have slipped in the back?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice beginning to crack. “Henry opened the gate to go to the mews for wood to board up the broken windows. He and Mrs. Watson were out of sight of it for no more than a few moments, and they saw no one lurking to slip in. There hardly seems time enough for someone to have gone in and carried away the girls without being seen or heard by anyone, and there were no signs of struggle.”
Slowly Nick straightened, his gaze distant. “What were you discussing with Charlotte before the crash, that she was unable to sleep?”
Emilia pressed a hand to her brow. “She wanted to know if Fitchley would really take Lucy,” she said, fighting back tears. “She wanted to know if he could, and I admitted Fitchley is Lucy’s legal guardian. I told her we would never allow it, though, and that Fitchley would likely leave England. I was doing my best to comfort her—”
“I know.” He touched her shoulder absently. “I have an idea where they are.”
She froze, then seized his arm. “Where? How do you know?”
He moved away, turning toward the door. “Did you come in a carriage?”
“No, I wouldn’t wait for one—we ran all the way here, James and I...”
“I see.” He opened the door and whistled. A moment later an earnest-looking boy loped into the corridor. “Tell Mr. Forbes I want a hackney.” The boy nodded and disappeared. Nick picked up his greatcoat. “Do you have a cloak?”
Emilia flushed. She’d run from the house without pausing for anything. James had only caught up to her a few streets later. “No.”
He draped his coat over her shoulders and went out. Emilia followed, through the concealed door and toward the black-and-white tiled entrance hall. They met Mr. Forbes by the alcove where Nick had kissed her so passionately, and the enormity of her failure hit Emilia.
Her job had been to protect Lucy and Charlotte, and both had disappeared while in her care. Nick thought he knew where they were, but he might be wrong, and nothing changed the fact that Emilia had failed to keep them safe in their own home, even with armed men on the property and the servants on alert. Nick had trusted her to do one thing, and she had failed.
She didn’t hear what he said to his club manager. The man gave her a sympathetic look as Nick led her out, and Emilia’s eye blurred with tears. She couldn’t bear sympathy now.
James was waiting by the hackney, and Nick paused to speak to him. Emilia clambered into the hackney by herself, holding Nick’s coat around her. Alone in the carriage, she wiped her streaming eyes. Nothing mattered until they found Charlotte and Lucy. If they were safe, she would fall on her knees and thank God, even if Nick never forgave her.
If they weren’t safe...
Nick stepped in and the carriage lurched forward.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s not your fault.” He was peering out the window, watching their progress.
“It is.” Her throat felt rough, and she thought she might be sick. “I spoke too freely to Charlotte. I ought not to have frightened her. Lucy was already scared enough. I should have stayed with them! I should have ordered Mrs. Watson not to leave them! I should have—”
Nick took her hand. “Shh,” he murmured. “If I’m right—”
“What if you’re not?” she all but sobbed.
“If I’m right,” Nick repeated, “I think I understand what happened. Do you trust me?”
She hesitated, still heartsick and terrified but slightly reassured by his hand around hers. “Yes,” she whispered.
He turned toward her, even though the carriage was too dark to see each other. “Charlotte once feared someone coming for her, too. She was about Lucy’s age when I found her, and she’d been on her own for a few years. She’d learned to be frightened of a great many people who would take advantage of a helpless child alone. I imagine Lucy appears just as vulnerable to her.”
Emilia didn’t see how that explained anything. “Where do you think they’ve gone, then?”
“I told you I brought Charlotte to a house where she would be safe. I couldn’t bring her to live with me because I was never home, and it wasn’t unknown for men who lost heavily at Vega’s to turn up on my doorstep, pleading for leniency—sometimes threatening terrible things if they didn’t get it. I didn’t want them anywhere near my sister, so I set her up in a quiet little house between the club and my home, with a kind staff and friendly neighbors. You’ve seen it. We took tea with Charlotte there.”
