Hale had given her until today to pay him. What forced his hand early? And in such a catastrophic way?
The most gut-twisting part was that she had the money. She’d had it hours ago.
Portia resumed her compulsive pacing. Her skirts whipped violently around her legs as she went into more detail about their dealings with the hired investigator.
“After Nightshade returned to report his findings, he sent us home, saying he intended to go back to the brothel for more information,” Portia explained. “He will notify us as soon as he can. Once he discovers the identity of the gentleman who took Lily, we can get her back.”
Emma was surprised by Portia’s confidence in the mysterious Nightshade, but she had no intention of crushing her sister’s optimism. Even she could not bring herself to entertain the possibility that Lily may not be easily returned to them.
“Did Nightshade give the name of the brothel?” Roderick asked.
“Something about a dragon, I think,” Portia answered. “No. Pendragon.”
Having the place named made it all the more real. Fear for Lily flashed bright in Emma’s soul. Keeping her sisters protected was her only responsibility, and she had failed. Just as she had with their parents.
God, she hated feeling so wretched. She needed to redirect her focus. There had to be something she could do.
She looked down at her hands clenched into fists in her lap. She forced them to open, watched as she commanded her fingers to uncurl. Somehow, she had to find a way to manage this.
Perhaps she should borrow some of Portia’s confidence in her anonymous investigator and perhaps a healthy dose of Lily’s ceaseless optimism. She certainly had nothing to lose.
She took a long and steadying breath.
“We must be practical about this,” she said finally, speaking mostly to herself. She looked to her sister and then to Angelique, who sat in her chair with uncharacteristic solemnity. “You have faith in this Nightshade?”
At their nods, she took another deep breath and looked to Roderick.
He gave a nod as well. “He is highly regarded and has been reported as accomplishing tasks no one else would dare to attempt.”
“Then I shall endeavor to trust in his abilities as well, which means Lily will be returned to us.” Though she did not say it out loud, she added a silent wish that her sister would be unharmed when Nightshade found her. Still, she could not ignore the fact that unharmed might not necessarily mean untouched. “We must consider every contingency in order to protect Lily from whatever may follow after tonight.”
“Yes,” Portia exclaimed, “that is exactly what we must do.”
“An excellent plan, my dear,” Angelique agreed.
Their enthusiasm helped to bolster Emma’s confidence, though deep down she knew any planning would be futile if Lily was not found.
“I am afraid I must take my leave.”
Emma looked up and met the direct focus of Roderick’s vivid blue eyes. There was a fire of determination there and the light of compassion she had come to expect from him. But also something else she couldn’t quite identify, though it made her heart clench with a feeling similar to regret.
“I wish I could stay,” he continued, and she believed it to be true, “but there is something I must see to without delay.”
“Of course, Mr. Bentley,” Emma replied, rising to her feet. The words felt so wooden and empty. She wished she knew what else to say, but there was no reason for him to stay other than the fact that she wanted him to. “I am sure you are anxious to return to your club. I imagine there is much you will have to do after last night’s celebration. Please allow me to show you out.”
Turning to the others, he gave a bow. “If there should be anything I can do to assist your family, on this matter or any other, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, monsieur,” Angelique replied with a smile as she peered at him through her opera glasses, which she had withdrawn from the folds of her skirts. “Do not be a stranger.”
Roderick gave another short bow, then Emma led him from the room. They had just stepped into the hall when Angelique added in a failed sotto voce, “That man can grace my parlor any day. He is far more fun to look at than the drapes.”
Emma’s cheeks warmed. What she wouldn’t give to have such a liberated tongue.
Instead, she kept her gaze forward and her lips firmly closed.
Roderick’s chest hurt. Deep inside where the blood pumped hard and heavy, he ached.
He could still practically feel the agony Emma had contained within her stiff, unmovable frame when her sister had told of the abduction. Every breath she had taken was measured and controlled. Every movement so harshly calculated it was painful to witness.