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My Fair Lily(82)

By:Meara Platt


“So will I. Can’t wait to have my ears assaulted.” Ewan rose and turned to the men. George had also changed into riding clothes, and he and Lily’s father were standing on the opposite side of the room speaking quietly, no doubt of the darker possibilities, of what to do if matters did not turn out as well as hoped. Ewan refused to lose faith. Lily was alive. He’d find her. All would be well.

George had his medical bag beside him. Ewan hoped they wouldn’t have need of it. Dillie had packed a change of clothes for Lily, handing the small bundle to him with a murmured, “I have faith in you.” He hoped it wasn’t misplaced.

To Ewan’s surprise, the Duke of Edgeware strode in, appearing slightly out of breath. “The Bow Street man is awake. He identified Lord Mortimer’s son, Ashton, as the fiend who took Lily.”

“Now we know we’re on the right track.” Ewan quickly filled him in on all they had learned and then listened to the rest of Edgeware’s report.

“The runner says he counted four men with Ashton. Not gentlemen. More like dockside ruffians. There could be others, but that’s all he saw.” Edgeware glanced at Dillie and her mother before turning back to Ewan. “What can I do to help?”

Ewan also glanced at the pair. They looked pale and scared. They looked as though their hearts had been ripped from their chests. “I appreciate all you’re doing for Lily and her family. I don’t think they’ll hold up much longer. Will you stay here and take care of things? They’re all about to fall apart.”

Edgeware nodded. “Of course. I’ll stay for as long as I’m needed. I have my own men making discreet inquiries throughout the seedier parts of London. I’ll let you know if they come up with any more news. Who else has heard about Lily’s abduction?”

“Only a handful. If we find her in time, I think we can keep it quiet. My sister, Meggie, and my cousin, Evangeline, suspect something is wrong, but they don’t yet know what’s happened. I’d rather keep it that way.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Eloise’s party will break up soon. They’ll expect me to escort them home.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Edgeware said, stepping away from the ladies to quietly explain. “A word to your grandfather that you and I are off to Regent Street for another sort of party and would he mind escorting his granddaughters home should do it. Having a bad reputation has its advantages. Who else knows?”

Ewan nodded. “We questioned the coachmen outside of Eloise’s home, but only asked if they’d seen a man. They don’t know we’re looking for Lily. However, the MacCorkindales know. Archie can be trusted to keep his mouth shut. I don’t know about Callie. She’ll keep silent only if she thinks it will work to her benefit.”

Edgeware frowned. “Unfortunately, I’ve met too many such women.”

Ewan agreed.

The Bow Street runners arrived, three of them including Homer Barrow. “M’best men,” he assured Lily’s father, who wanted to join them but had been convinced by Ewan to remain behind. He had no doubt that Lily’s father was clever and competent, but this was his daughter at risk. Lily was his little girl. Any father would be beyond mad with worry, and a crazed man couldn’t be counted on to remain calm during their search... or afterward, if things didn’t work out as well as hoped.

In truth, Ewan was in no better shape than Lily’s father. Though he’d tried his best to appear calm, he was filled with dread and anger. Scots had tempers, and Highlanders had the worst tempers of all. Rage would get him nowhere, probably get him and his companions killed. He had to keep his wits about him. For Lily’s sake.

His gut was now twisted in a Gordian knot. Almost two hours had passed since her abduction. Another four hours to reach Maidstone, possibly longer. They’d be riding the entire time in darkness, an ink-black darkness that matched the raging darkness within his heart.

***

Lily wasn’t certain how much time had elapsed since the blackguard drugged her that second time. However, this time she awoke hungry. Cold and hungry. No one had bothered to provide her a cloak or blanket for protection against the night’s chill. The room was still dark, though rays of gray light appeared to stream in between the cracks of a shuttered window above her on the right.

Of course, it could be mere illusion. Her head was still in a foggy spin and she’d lost all sense of place and time. However, she hadn’t forgotten that disembodied voice she’d heard earlier. It was Ashton’s. He’d tried to disguise it, but she knew him too well to be fooled. She recalled what had struck her as odd in the garden. While she’d struggled and tried to scream, he’d just been standing there. He wasn’t a victim. He was the mastermind behind her abduction. But why?