My Fair Lily(80)
A little less than half an hour had passed since Lily’s abduction. Why hadn’t he figured it out sooner? All the while, he’d thought the enemy was his. But Lily was the one in peril all along. He’d hired a man to shadow her. He ought to have put an army to the task.
He knocked at the front door. The Mortimer butler led them in and settled them in the parlor. “You’d better ask the questions, George. He doesn’t know me.”
George nodded.
It seemed an eternity before Ashton’s father deigned to come down, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. They’d probably roused the old man from his bed. “Dr. Farthingale, I’m surprised to see you at this hour. Fields said it was important. Is something wrong? Has something happened to Ashton?”
“No, my lord. Well, perhaps. We’re not sure. You see, he and my niece, Lily, are missing.” He introduced Ewan as a friend, not mentioning his name since it would have revealed his connection to the Duke of Lotheil. Ewan thought it wise. His grandfather had come down hard on Ashton, and Lord Mortimer may not have been too pleased about it.
“What are you suggesting? An elopement?” His ancient eyes brightened. “He’s been talking about her quite a bit lately. I thought something was afoot.”
Ewan exchanged a glance with George.
“Yes, children can be quite impulsive these days,” George said, trying to sound casual, though Ewan heard the tension in his voice. “Did he mention where he might have taken her? You see, she’s underage and still requires her parents’ consent to marry. She’s such a clever little thing, we often forget how young she is. Perhaps Ashton’s forgotten as well.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Youngsters in love rarely think of practical matters.”
“Of course, the Farthingales would be delighted by a union of our families. We’d like to make certain it is properly done, no embarrassing oversights. You understand.”
Lord Mortimer nodded. “I certainly do. Lily’s a fine girl. I wish I could be of help, but my son isn’t one to confide in me.”
“Think, sir. Any hint of where they might have gone? No matter how trivial.”
The old man shrugged his shoulders. “No, but I’ll summon you if something comes to mind.” With that, he dismissed them and rang for Fields to help him up the stairs.
Ewan sensed the old bastard was lying. He wanted to ask more questions, but decided against it. He’d caught an urgent look in the butler’s eyes.
“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” George said, his disappointment obvious.
They both rose, but instead of heading for the door, Ewan held George back. “The butler knows something. I think he’s willing to talk. Let’s wait.”
It didn’t take long for the man to return. Whispering, he drew them aside and turned to George, his expression clearly troubled. “You say your niece is missing?”
George nodded. “Tell us what you know. Please.”
“The Mortimers have a house in Maidstone. Sparrow Hall’s the name. Haven’t used it much lately. It was in Lady Mortimer’s family and Lord Ashton inherited it upon her death last year. A drafty old place. Never cared for it m’self, but he was there just last week stocking supplies for the house. When Mrs. Fields asked him about it, he muttered something about hunting on the grounds with friends. She’s my wife and is housekeeper here. We’re a small staff, only five of us in service.”
“Did he mention to your wife who these friends were?”
“No, m’lord. But that bit of nonsense about hunting struck me as odd at the time. Lord Ashton’s no hunter. Never has been. I suspected he was planning something unsavory, the way he’s talked about Miss Farthingale recently. She’s a cheerful girl. Always had a kind word for me and my wife. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her. I won’t have her murder on my soul.”
George turned pale.
Ewan caught his arm, understanding his despair. He was just as shaken. It was one thing to fear the worst, and quite another to have it spoken aloud. “Maidstone, you say?”
“Aye, I can’t think he’d be anyplace else. But there’s more. My wife found a box hidden beneath Lord Ashton’s bed. She opened it and saw a collection of feminine trinkets. Handkerchiefs with the initials LF, hair ribbons, that sort of thing.”
Ewan exchanged another glance with George. Lily hadn’t been misplacing her belongings. Ashton had been stealing them.
“I thought it odd, but harmless,” Fields continued, “until that nasty business with the Duke of Lotheil and the Royal Society occurred. Lord Ashton was quite distressed. Began talking about how Miss Farthingale had betrayed him.”