Part 4 (2/2)
But they'd all been dressed alike. They'd come together.
There was something tickling Leland's brain. Something he needed to remember from the night before. Something about the way they were dressed.
And where were the servants?
Why had they needed his carriage?
Someone pounded on the front door. Since there was no sign of a butler, it was up to Leland to stop the offender. He hoped he wouldn't have to hit this one.
He pulled the door open and Robbie, his own driver stood before him, fist raised, slack-jawed.
”Praise be, you're all right, Your Grace!”
”Where have you been?”
”The old gentleman, he said you'd agreed he could take your carriage, sir. After we got clean out of London, they stopped and told me to go home. Took your carriage. Shall I call for the authorities, Your Grace?”
”No, Robby. I told him he could borrow the carriage. I need you to find me a hack then find Doctor Morris and get him back here as soon as possible. Then get yourself home.” His conscience prodded him. ”There's a patient upstairs who has been abandoned. And he's in pain.”
It was d.a.m.ned Christian of him to add the last.
Hangover or no, he would find Miss MacIntyre and Lord Anonymous. And to accomplish it, he needed only to find a certain vest and an odd pair of boots.
CHAPTER FIVE.
Leland had listened closely to his driver, to the route he'd taken the night before. Unfortunately, the location where the Lord X's man had abandoned the younger man had been very near a crossroads. There were three directions they could have gone. For all he knew they could have wound their way back into London as well. There was just no way of knowing.
If he could just remember where he'd seen that man before...
As night approached, he couldn't get Miss MacIntyre out of his mind, or what might be happening to her. It was driving him mad enough to wish someone would coldc.o.c.k him. At least he would wake in the morning and the nightmare would be over. For a while.
But none took such pity on him, and into the wee hours, he finally slept.
Lord Anonymous was due to return Miss MacIntyre by noon. Leland and half a dozen people with morbid curiosities sat in parked carriages outside Ledford's house before by quarter of ten.
One carriage belonged to the Duke of Redmond, of course. The rest were unmarked. At least the man had the decency to come in a closed carriage and not make a picnic of it with his friends. How mortifying for any woman to descend from a carriage into a leering crowd.
Leland was different. He was there to keep her from going inside her stepfather's house.
The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was back on his feet already. Leland had seen him peering out half a dozen windows, on two different levels of the house, in the short time since he'd arrived.
As time wore on, Leland swung like a pendulum, thrilling one minute at the chance she'd gotten away, and despairing the next when he considered the possible reasons why Lord X would not return her.
He tried to imagine a fairytale ending for her, but found he had a tendency to murder each Prince Charming that came to mind.
Quarter of twelve.
The street was silent as if the ticking of a watch were the most precious of all sounds.
Finally, a black carriage made its way down the street, slowly. Necks of the growing crowd craned through open windows. When the conveyance slowed near the baron's home, Leland's stomach plummeted. No matter what had happened, her reputation was destroyed. Only the bleakest future awaited her if he allowed her to enter that house. And as against heroism as he was, he couldn't let that happen.
He descended from his carriage to find Redmond a step ahead of him. Neither ran, but it was a less-than-dignified foot race. Only as they were nearing the carriage did they both slow.
How had he not noticed? The crest on the carriage was his own!
Redmond had murder in his eyes.
Shouting erupted all along the street as the wagering from the previous day came into question. Not many would know what had transpired when Leland had arrived at the townhouse early the previous morning. That would include the detail of his carriage having been 'borrowed' from him.
Leland wanted to laugh.
Redmond marched to the closest side of the carriage and wrenched open the door.
She wasn't inside.
She wasn't inside!
Redmond turned to him, obviously preparing to call him out.
Leland explained as briefly as possible, leaving out the more embarra.s.sing details.
Redmond took it rather well, only nodding, then turning to go. But he paused. ”Any idea who he was?”
”None.”
Redmond dusted his gloved hands and looked down the street.
”Pity. I would have liked a taste of that.”
Leland smiled. Then he laughed. And when Redmond's guard was down, Leland threw his fist at the other duke's jaw as if he were trying to put an end to another man's pain. And it worked. Leland felt nothing at all.
He'd even had the satisfaction of seeing the Duke's twisted lips. .h.i.t the filthy road before his liveried drivers could break his fall.
”Taste that, old boy.”
A week had pa.s.sed since Aphrodite disappeared. It was the only way Leland thought of her now. Something of a myth. If he didn't hear a whisper, here and there, as he entered a drawing room, he'd have thought he'd imagined her...that she was a memory for no one but him.
At Lady Chestwick's gala, he indulged his melancholia and made his way to the pianoforte where a plain girl with a beautiful voice was singing something less than cheerful. If she wasn't careful, Lady Chestwick would see that she was punished for the rest of the season. He determined to compliment the hostess on her choice of entertainments, just in case. It would likely be the most heroic deed he'd manage all year.
Lord Fool was now something he called himself.
Glorious peach roses had been arranged in a white marble urn that sat atop the large instrument. Lord Fool leaned forward to appreciate their fragrance and their reflection in the polished surface.
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