“Good sir, Lord and Lady Clarendon are not available. Can you leave a message for his lordship?”
“I was told by Lady Romney that this was an important message and to see that they received it as soon as possible,” the messenger responded, frustrated with Bernard’s casual dismissal.
“Who wishes to see us, Bernard?” Evan asked as he hastened down the stairs.
The retainer turned. “My lord, this gentleman wishes to speak with you and Lady Clarendon.”
“Thank you, Bernard. I will see him in my study.” Who would come to see him in regimentals?
The door to the study closed, and the boyish man walked to the desk and held out a missive to him.
“I heard you mention Lady Romney’s name,” Evan prodded gently, opening and attempting to scan the document.
“Yes, my lord. I know of no other way to say this other than the message upset Lady Romney when she read it and asked that I deliver it to you immediately. Under the circumstances, I thought it best. It is news of her son,” he finished politely.
“I am Lady Romney’s son-in-law. My wife is resting. This is about Matthew?” Evan held his breath as he focused again on the document. “It says he is no longer presumed dead,” he said, hoping he had read it correctly. “Where is he?”
“We do not know exactly,” the courier hesitated before continuing. “I will tell you all I have been told on the matter. We know Colonel Romney had been badly injured and a local woman found him sometime after the battle and took him home with her to try and nurse him to back to health. This information was discovered by a small contingent of Major General Lambert’s men sent to locate the bodies of our fallen officers. Oddly, they received word of a woman that had taken two injured men into her home, hoping to help them. They passed the information on to Major General Lambert who later, sent more men to track her down. One of the men was confirmed to be Colonel Romney. However, the colonel had improved and had left two days ahead of our men’s arrival, telling her it was dangerous to her for him to stay. She believes he headed home.”
“Did he board a ship? How long has the Crown known of this? And why are we just hearing of it? His late father died thinking his son had passed,” Evan said through clenched teeth, realizing this man was not responsible for the message, only its delivery. “His father hired an investigator,” he softened his tone and kept reading.
Matthew had sustained a head injury—probably the reason they failed to account for him after the battle. “Thank you.” Evan decided that the messenger needed no further information and had gone beyond his normal job. He fished a coin from his drawer and passed it to him. “My wife and I appreciate your thoughtfulness, and most especially the news.” He closed up the missive. “I assume we will hear of any updates on Colonel Romney,” he said, looking up from the paper.
“Yes, my lord.”
He walked the courier to the door. When he closed it behind him, he called to Bernard.
“Yes, my lord?” Bernard came from around the corner.
Had Bernard waited there the whole time he had spoken to the courier? The more he thought about it, the funnier he thought it to be. That’s how the old codger knows everything. He smiled to himself. “Have you received a message for me from Lord Banbury?”
“Yes, my lord.” He picked up the salver and moved it in Evan’s direction. “It came not long after you posted your own.”
Evan opened Banbury’s message and scanned it quickly. His friend had gone to Charlotte’s home and would stay there to watch over the place. He imagined that Lady Romney would have told him about Matthew, so he would wait on that until tomorrow. Perhaps there would be more news, he thought, making his way upstairs, thinking to wake Charlotte with the update on her brother. He was almost to the top when pounding sounded on the front door.
“My lord, I will see to it. I do not recall a time with more traffic . . .” Bernard said as he opened the door.
Banbury stood there for a second before pushing past. “I hoped that you and Lady Clarendon were together. Is she alone upstairs?”
“Yes, in my bed,” Evan supplied. “I had a courier. What is this about?”
“Her younger brother is missing. I believe they are both in danger.”
Evan took the stairs two at a time with Banbury in tow.
“She is in danger,” Banbury half-shouted.
“Danger? What are you about?” Evan asked, opening the door to his room. The window was open and his bed was empty. His heart hit the floor.
Evan ran to the bed. Her clothes and shoes were gone. Could she have gotten dressed before she left? A small cloth lay beside the bed. He picked it up and sniffed. Ether.
Every scenario led him to a dark answer he could not accept. Frustrated, he sat down on the edge of the bed he had shared with his wife less than an hour before and dropped his head in his hands.
“Get yourself together, man!” Banbury touched him lightly on the shoulders. “We must leave immediately. I received a message from Titan at Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s. He wanted us to know Lord Langdale had put the word out that he was hiring today. And worse, he planted a mole in the Romney household,” Banbury added.
“Her servants have been there for years, according to Charlotte.” He grew quiet. “All except for her lady’s maid, Jane.”
“I hired a Bow Street Runner when I heard from Titus, not wanting to bother you with this and hoping it was much ado about nothing. I am hoping he was watching the house and has followed the young lord. Her uncle is desperate, mad, or both. I have a grim feeling.” Banbury was direct.
“We should go to the Romney home and question Jane. She has to know something.”
