Page 50 of Inconvenient Honor
“I never will, either.” The two men grinned at each other in the pleasure of a long-shared friendship.
The conversation turned to the earl’s impending trip, to crops and livestock, Will’s dearest endeavors. Richard let it, content to lay his own baggage down for a bit.
“Pardon me, my lords,” a liveried footman broke in. “There is a gentleman here to see the Marquess of Glenaire.”
“Show him in,” the earl said.
Walter Stewart bustled in moments later.
“Thank goodness I found you, my lord,” he said without preamble. “She’s gone again.” He didn’t need to elaborate on “she.”
“Where?” Richard threw down his napkin.
“That’s just it. We don’t know. Don’t know when either.”
“Tell me,” Richard demanded through clenched teeth. Damned foolish woman.
“When I saw her two days ago, she pled headache and declined to go out. Heaton went yesterday, and they told him the lady was ‘indisposed.’ He didn’t push it, thinking to allow the lady her privacy.”
Richard suppressed a groan. Heaton’s stunning lack of guile infuriated him. “And?”
“I got the same story this afternoon, but I didn’t like the sound. Turned out the blasted aunt hadn’t spoke to her in two days. She returned a tray night before last and told them not to bring more until she specifically requested it. The story didn’t sound right. I made the old woman go up and check.”
Richard knew what came next, but he asked, hoping he was wrong. “Go on, go on, man.”
“Room empty. Bed never slept in. Must have left that same night.”
“Servants?” Richard rose to his feet.
“Yes, sir. Questioned them all. Most are a worthless collection of elderly retainers who neither see nor hear what is under their nose. Her maid had some information to offer. She said Miss Thornton had taken to keeping a carpetbag packed with overnight things. She said her mistress had been ‘as nervous as a bug on a hot brick.’”
Richard called for his hat and gloves.
“And our men?” Who will find themselves looking for work alongside Roger Heaton before today is out. He held out a hand to the footman who handed him his things.
“Reported nothing. No visitors. No sign of Miss Thornton. No comings and goings except for merchant deliveries to the tradesmen’s door, of course.”
One of which left with Lily Thornton. He paused at the door to the breakfast parlor, another thought making bile rise in his throat.
“What’s the latest on Volkov?”
“No good news there, either. I checked back before I tracked you down. He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Last seen at a tavern in Portsmouth. We had a man on him, but we’ve had no report in three days.”
Richard cursed loudly. “Retrace Volkov’s steps. Get our best agents on it.” He started for the door, remembered his host, and turned to see Will watching him with concern.
“Sorry to leave so abruptly. I need to see to this myself.”
“Find her, Richard.”
“We’ll find Volkov. If Miss Thornton foolishly declines our protection, we will let her go without it.” Walter Stewart didn’t try to hide his shock nor Will his disapproval. Richard ignored them both and stalked to the door.
Lily Thornton made it clear I’m not her keeper. So be it.
Chapter Eighteen
