Page 55 of Disciplined by the Duke
The rest of her party climbed in after her and settled onto the velvet benches. “Your duke?” her brother asked. “Do you already have your eye on the next poor fool?”
“Have safe travels,” Marcus said, closing the door as she kicked one of her slippered feet in the direction of her brother’s shins. He pounded the side of the carriage and stepped back as it drove away. He rolled his shoulders. One burden lifted.
Spinning on his heel, he headed for the front steps. A page racing around the side of the building towards the stable caught his attention. The lad met with another boy, standing together in the pouring rain, before turning around and running back to the house as though the hounds of hell were on his heels.
Curious, Marcus strode along the front of Hartsworth and turned the corner, moving towards the open door to the kitchens. His steward and cook stood inside, heads together, listening to the page. Mrs. Johnson held a small kitten to her thick middle, her fingers tangling in the small animal’s fur.
Marcus stepped into the entry, causing the trio to take hasty steps back. He closed the umbrella and shook it out. “Mr. Todd, is there a problem?”
The man tugged at his lapels. “‘Problem’ might not be the right word, Your Grace. One of our maids hasn’t reported for duty, and no one can find her. But I’ve sent men to look for her. Nothing to concern Your Grace with.”
A flicker of unease unrolled in his gut. “A maid?”
“Just like poor Bob Blackmun, it is.” The cook shook her head, red hair escaping from her white cap. She lowered her face to the kitten, rubbed her cheek against its fur. “I should never of let her walk out the door this morning. I knew something was wrong.”
“Which maid?” Marcus let his voice fall to an intimidating growl, not having the inclination to remain polite. It was probably nothing. He had many maids, and from the sound of it the girl was only gone for a couple of hours.
The vise around his heart warned him otherwise.
Mr. Todd blinked. “That Miss Smith, Your Grace. One problem after another we have with that one.”
Mrs. Johnson elbowed him in the side. “She’s a sweet girl, if you—”
“What have you done to find her?” Marcus interrupted.
“I sent two stable boys, Jack and Sam, out looking for her. Jack went to the village and Sam headed south along the road.” Mr. Todd shook his head. “Foolish girl, out in this rain.”
“And Mr. Pike volunteered to go after her.” Mrs. Johnson lowered her chin to her chest. “He is a distant relation, after all.”
His steward leaned into the cook, scratched the kitten’s jaw with one finger. He nodded stiffly, but didn’t add to her statement. Marcus knew Mr. Todd had issues with the assistant groom, and it struck him as odd that a man of Pike’s disposition would volunteer to help anyone, even a second cousin. Marcus rubbed at his tight chest. Something didn’t add up. Liz was in trouble. He felt it in his bones.
He turned to the boy, who had stood silently, twisting his small cap round in his hands. “Run to the stable and have Darkwing saddled. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Youare going out after her?” Mr. Todd couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice. Realizing his blunder, he coughed and bowed his head. “I’ll retrieve your greatcoat and be back momentarily, Your Grace.” He padded out of the kitchen leaving Marcus and the cook alone.
“She is a sweet girl, Your Grace.” Mrs. Johnson freed her shawl from the kitten’s claws. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to cause a fuss. If it wasn’t raining so hard I wouldn’t have told Molly to bring it to Mr. Todd’s attention.”
“Molly beds with Miss Smith?” he asked, his fingers scratching at the fold of papers in his breast pocket. He glanced at the stairwell. Did he have time to put the letter in his safe? A wet ride might damage its contents.
The cook nodded her head, her soft chin jiggling. “I know Mr. Todd isn’t happy with Liz’s work, even though she gets all of it done. It might take her a bit longer than others. And I didn’t want her to lose her position over this. But”—she bit her lip and nodded to the open door—“it’s so wet. And with poor Bob disappearing as he did . . .”
Did his servants think him and Mr. Todd monsters? “I’m not thinking about dismissing the woman right now, Mrs. Johnson. Her safety is of utmost concern.” He, too, looked out into the pouring rain and thought about his little bird alone in the elements. Liz was strong willed, but her body had proven itself all too fragile.
His breath caught in his throat, and he cleared it with a growl. His steward scuttled back into the kitchen holding the long coat out before him. Marcus ripped it from Mr. Todd’s hands, thrust his arms into the sleeves. He wouldn’t waste time running up to his safe. The letter would be covered under two layers. It would be fine.
Without a backwards glance, Marcus jogged for the stable, ignoring Mr. Todd’s entreaty to bring his umbrella. Riding across his lands holding a bloody parasol would make him look even more like the right idiot he was for personally involving himself in the search for his maid. His jaw clenched, and he hurtled himself onto Darkwing’s back, the horse shifting uneasily in the groom’s grasp. Marcus grabbed the reins and galloped out of the stable, into the storm.
Anger. Anger was a much more appropriate emotion to feel at this moment than fear, so Marcus held on to it as best he could. He crested one hill and flew down into the hollow, his eyes scanning the horizons for any movement. If one man had gone south and the other to the village Marcus would search his own lands. He didn’t know where Pike was looking, but didn’t like the idea of that man finding his Liz.
And that thought infuriated him more than any other. She shouldn’t be his Liz, and he shouldn’t care if his groom’s filthy hands touched her, so long as she was safe.
He kicked his heels into Darkwing’s heaving flanks. She would be safest with Marcus. He would find her, bring her back to Hartsworth, and shake some sense into the silly girl. The only danger she was in was from his wrath. His pulse pounded in his ears. She would be fine. She had to be.
Please, God, let her be safe.
He and Darkwing traversed acres and acres of land and for the first time ever Marcus cursed the size of his holdings. It was too easy for a person to get lost. Why had he never thought of that before now?
The crash of waves thundered over the storm as Marcus drove Darkwing towards the cliffs overlooking the sea. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to walk along the cliffs in the rain. The loose soil crumbled when wet, sliding forty feet down onto the rocky beach. If she slipped . . . The pain in his chest spread to his gut. No, she would be fine. He’d make sure of that.
