“You have my word that I will protect your confidence. I would be grateful to be of assistance.”
“I suppose you can be trusted,” the duchess said, eyeing Darcy. Then to no one in particular she said, “His mother and I were close. But the less said about your father, the better,” the duchess said. Now that aroused Bridget’s curiosity and begged for more questions. She hadn’t even considered that Darcy had parents; he seemed like he was born fully formed, a perfect gentleman who emerged from a rock or the head of Athena. “But nevertheless, Darcy, we have a situation on our hands. Lady Amelia has taken leave of us.”
“Of her own free will or do we suspect something more dire?”
“Knowing Amelia, she’s just run off for a bit of adventure,” Bridget replied. “She has a habit of it.”
“But that doesn’t mean something bad hasn’t happened to her,” James said gravely. He swore softly under his breath. Ever since their parents had died, he’d been the one responsible for them all. And they hadn’t always made it easy on him, but this was the worst.
“There wasn’t a ransom note,” Claire added. “One doesn’t kidnap an heiress without leaving a ransom note. Unless one is utterly insane.”
“Thank you, Claire, for suggesting that a madman has kidnapped our sister,” James said dryly.
“Thus we are searching for one runaway heiress in a city of nearly a million people without the slightest clue where she could be,” Darcy summarized. “It so happens that my brother is also missing.”
“An interesting turn of events,” Josephine mused. “Would you care for tea?”
“Or something stronger? I could use something stronger,” James muttered.
“No thank you. In a few short hours I’m sure we will celebrate Lady Amelia’s safe return with a bottle of your best brandy.”
“Right,” James said. “In the meantime, the duchess and I are at odds as to how to ensure her safe return.”
Claire explained the two positions.
“You are both right,” Darcy said. “It is impossible for us to find her by ourselves. But if word of this becomes public, Lady Amelia will be ruined. And she may not be the only one.”
Darcy’s gaze landed on her for just a second.
Bridget knew she was not supposed to feel a thrill at the word “ruined.” It was just so dramatic, so mysterious, so final. One was fine and then one day one was ruined and never quite knew why. It usually had something to do with being alone with a man. People were always left to imagine the worst. She did not wish this for herself or her sisters, of course.
But still, the word gave her a little thrill.
“We’ll also look pretty damn suspicious if all of us split up and go searching for her,” James said.
“We shall perhaps go search for her in turns, and someone should wait here in the event that she returns on her own,” Darcy replied. “Duke, Lady Claire why don’t you go for a stroll and see what you can learn about Lady Amelia . . . or my brother. You’ll also want to send some footmen out in plainclothes to seek information. If she does not return this morning, we’ll enlist a few Runners for the afternoon.”
And just like that, Lord Darcy ended the standoff between the duchess and the duke. He had calmly defused the tension in the room. It was impressive, that.
Or had he? There was a knot in Bridget’s stomach now. Because Darcy was here and now he was deeply embroiled in their private family drama, which would hardly improve his already low opinion of their family.
“Lady Bridget, why don’t you and Lord Darcy visit Hyde Park. Perhaps you’ll see your sister,” Josephine suggested. “Perhaps you’ll even find her with Mr. Wright.”
Bridget frowned at the duchess. What a bloody terrible idea. If she and Darcy were seen taking a pleasant stroll in the park, it would only attract undue attention and more gossip, especially after all the nonsense about clinging to each other in the lake. Honestly.
Or so she desperately believed. But the thought of being alone with Darcy made her feel anxious and strange. He was not one for conversation, she had learned, and she so hated silences.
Most of the time she found him insufferable, except for when his clothes were wet and she could gaze wantonly at his body. She doubted that would happen today. Alas.
“I’m sure we wouldn’t wish to trouble Lord Darcy anymore,” Bridget said, opting for the more polite response. “I’m certain he wishes to search for his brother instead.”
“It is no trouble,” he said evenly, his gaze resting on her alone. “I mean to spend the day making inquiries about Rupert. We can look for Lady Amelia as well.”