Page 38 of Duke with a Deception
“I don’t, but the headmistress would know.”
“It’s worth checking there,” Riverdale agreed.
Sybil nodded. “Verity and I will pay a call upon Mrs. Stevens at once.”
“We’ll all go,” Riverdale and King said in unison.
Riverdale scowled at him. King raised a brow.
“Come,” Verity said urgently, taking hold of King’s arm. “This is not an argument the two of you shall settle any time this century.”
And he allowed his clever wife to pull him toward the drawing room door. As usual, she was right.
CHAPTER 6
The flat where Emma had lived prior to her mother’s death was situated on a tumbledown street. Some of the characters milling about in the roadway as their barouche approached were rather suspicious in nature. There was an officious scent in the air—dung mixed with standing water, lacking sewers, and chimney soot. Carriage traffic was heavy, and the thought of Emma dashing about on her own here, in danger of the people and the wheels of the carriages, made Verity want to retch.
As soon as the barouche came to a halt, Verity made to leap down to the pavements. King stayed her with a hand.
“Wait until our reinforcements arrive, my dear.”
Everett and Sybil were not far behind. In their wake was a handful of burly grooms King had tasked with accompanying them, should they require help in finding Emma, or extracting her if she had indeed ventured into this unsavory part of London.
Summoning all the restraint she possessed, Verity waited until her brother and sister-in-law came to a halt. Then she turned back to her husband, so nervous that she could scarcely keep herself from fidgeting.
“Now?”
“Now,” he agreed.
And before he could descend first, she leapt down, landing with graceful ease. She shook out her skirts, and then without waiting for anyone to accompany her, she rushed to the door of the flat that would have once been home to Emma.
Verity knocked on the door and waited for an answer.
“You might have waited for me,” King grumbled at her side, his long limbs apparently enabling him to catch up to her without a struggle.
“It doesn’t seem as if I needed to,” she pointed out. “No response.”
“Knock again,” King instructed.
She was already setting her gloved knuckles to the faded panel and rapping once more. This time, the door opened slightly with a loud creak, revealing one eye.
“Who’s there and wot do ye want?” a female voice demanded.
Verity was dimly aware of Everett and Sybil approaching as she answered. “I am the Duchess of Kingham, and I am searching for my charge. She is a young girl with gold-red ringlets. Her name is Emma, and she is six years old. We have reason to believe she may have come here. Have you seen her?”
“A duchess, are ye? Ha! And I’m the bleedin’ queen,” the voice snarled, before the door began to slam closed.
“Wait,” Verity cried in the same moment that King’s hand shot out, stopping the door from shutting in her face. “Have you seen her? I’m begging you. If you have, please let me know.”
The eye narrowed. “And ’ow do I know if ye’re wot ye say ye are?”
Verity cast a look in King’s direction, at a loss as to how she could prove who she was. He gave her a nod and then directed his attention to the woman on the other side of the door.
“Madam, I am the Duke of Kingham, and you are addressing Her Grace. You have my utmost assurance that we are indeed who we say we are. There is a child in danger, and we are doing everything in our power to find her and bring her safely home. Have you seen the girl?”
“Wot’s it worth to ye?” the woman asked slyly.
Outrage swept over Verity. The sheer nerve. They were looking for a lost child, and this woman wanted to be paid for any knowledge she may have concerning her? Verity opened her mouth to give the outrageous creature a piece of her mind.
