Hector kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry,” he said, and helped her into her cloak. “I’ll find her.” He pulled a card from his pocket. “You’d better take this. It’s the modiste the duchess recommended. At least you’ll have the pleasure of trying on the gowns. I’ll join you in London in a day or two.”
Meg read the worry in her godfather’s eyes as she took the card. There’d been so many problems he hadn’t been able to fix since Papa’s death. Was this one more?
He smiled, tried to reassure her. “Go on, before your mother starts to fret.”
Meg’s heart was pounding as Hector handed her into the coach.
“You’ll find her, won’t you?” Flora asked him.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course.”
Flora lowered the window of the coach and watched him mount his horse and ride away at a gallop. Then she shut her eyes and lay back against the squabs with a sigh, pale and worried. Meg leaned over to shut the window against the cold breeze, and wrapped a rug around her mother’s knees.
Rose’s disappearance on the eve of their salvation was tragic. She might be in danger, and her mother was on the verge of another nervous collapse. Flora had lost her husband, her fortune, and now her eldest daughter. She stood to lose her home too. Meg would have to find a way to protect her from all of it.
Hector would find Rose in time for the wedding.
He must.
Guilt nipped at her as the coach moved through the gates of Wycliffe Park and turned onto the London road. She should be worried, not excited, but she was. She would see the sights of London, visit the fashionable shops, and stay in Lord Bryant’s town house. And she would see the notorious Devil of Temberlay in the flesh. That promised to be an adventure in itself, and perhaps the one she was looking forward to most of all.
Chapter 4
Lady Julia Leighton lifted her heavy veil and got to her feet as Nicholas entered the salon. He noted the dark circles under her eyes, made all the more startling by her pallor.
He crossed and kissed her forehead, and escorted her to a comfortable seat. “Have you been waiting long?” he asked gently.
His brother’s fiancée had been heavily pregnant the last time he’d seen her, just days after his arrival home in London. She’d written to him to explain why she’d betrayed David with another man, and to ask for help. He’d gone to see her, given her money, arranged for a house, a midwife, and a nurse for the child. He could not see her as a fallen woman. Julia had always been like a sister to him, and if things had been different, she would have been David’s wife and Duchess of Temberlay. His mouth twisted. He had always pictured Julia in that role, but now a stranger, his own unknown, unwanted bride, would take her place. He sat across from Julia to stem the sudden rage he felt.
“The child is well?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she smiled. “He’s growing very fast. I’ve come to say good-bye, Nick. I’m leaving London. My father found out where I was staying and insists that I cannot remain in Town. In fact he prefers I leave England.” She looked up at him with a sad smile. “He told everyone I was dead, you see. My ghost walking the streets of Mayfair would be a rather difficult thing to explain.” She rose to her feet, pulling her dark cloak more closely around her, her hands white flowers on the black velvet. “I owe you my thanks for all you’ve done—” She choked back a sob. “You’ve been most kind, Nicholas, in spite of everything.”
He rose as well. He couldn’t let her go this way. He’d known Julia since she was a child. She and David had been betrothed on her eighth birthday. He’d been as shocked as anyone else, but he didn’t only blame her. “Where will you go?”