She moved away, having heard enough. They were going to keep her here as a prisoner while they set up an auction? She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at the absurdity of it.
She walked around the cottage, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. There was a heavy vase, but she feared if she tried to hurl it at one of them, she’d only drop it on her foot.
A search in the kitchen turned up a spoon as well as a heavy pan. Like the vase, she would most likely harm herself if she tried to use the pan as a weapon. However, she slipped the spoon into the top of her stocking.
Did she really think she could spoon someone to death?
She wandered back to the chair and slumped down, the sound of Randolph and Lyons’ voices still raised.
Drawing in a deep breath, she sat straight up, her heart pounding.
Driscoll.
If only she could somehow get word to him.
Then she laughed, the hysteria building. Yes, of course. Even if she could get word to The Rose Room, he was working on a special assignment for the Home Office at a place unknown even to his brother.
In her desire to keep everything a secret, Driscoll had no idea who she was, where she came from, and who her wretched stepbrother was. He would no doubt believe she had simply disappeared much like she had appeared through a window on a rainy night.
Why was it just now that she realized she could trust him? Why was it just now that she realized she most likely had fallen in love with him, but would probably never see him again?
Swiping angrily at her tears, she raised her head when the door opened.
Randolph stood in front of her, his hands on his hips. “We have a change of plans.”
“Oh, thank you. You will be returning me to The Rose Room, then?”
“No. But we can’t keep you here for as long as we need to, so we will be traveling back to London once we’ve had some sleep.”
Amelia jumped up and strode to the door to the small bedroom she’d seen when she returned from listening to them argue. “I will sleep here.” She closed the door, then dragged a small wooden chair over and tucked it under the doorknob.
She didn’t remove any of her clothing, including her dance slippers, and placed the spoon under the pillow, giggling hysterically at her only implement of defense. Despite her fears and anger, she was adrift in sleep within minutes.
* * *
“What the bloody hell do you mean she’s disappeared?” Driscoll dropped his satchel at his feet and glared at his brother.
“I don’t mean to be flippant, brother, but that is precisely as I said. She’s disappeared. Gone. No longer here.”
Driscoll turned in a circle and ran his fingers through his hair. “When?”
“The night of the ball.”
His head jerked up. “Wasn’t that last week?”
“Yes.”
Driscoll lowered his voice, his hands plastered on the desk in front of Dante. “Are you telling me Amelia disappeared a week ago and you didn’t see fit to send a message to me through Sir Phillip?”
“Why?”
“I’m going to take a deep breath to keep me from going for your throat. Not only is she an employee, but you know my feelings for her are more than that.”
“No. Actually, I did not know. I suspected, but. . .”
“Stop!” The blood pounding in his head was bringing on a tremendous headache. Amelia was gone. Disappeared. No one would convince him she left on her own volition.
“Have you notified Scotland Yard?”
Dante leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “There is something else you should know before you insist on calling in the authorities.” He hesitated for a minute, then continued. “A very expensive necklace went missing the same night your Miss Pence did.”
Driscoll’s stomach dropped. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But since we knew nothing about the girl, why for all intents and purposes she appeared to be in hiding while refusing to tell us anything about herself, I find it suspicious that both she and the necklace disappeared the same night.”
“Have you searched her room?”
“Briefly. I didn’t want to invade her privacy. I will tell you the necklace has not been found since the ball, and someone needs to search her room. Since you seem, shall we say, attached to the girl, I will leave that up to you.”
Driscoll strode from the office where he’d been speaking with Dante and entered Amelia’s room. Like a man possessed, he went through all her belongings, noting she left everything behind.
Dante leaned against the wall while Driscoll pulled out clothing, shoes, undergarments, hair clips, tossing them on the floor, his search becoming more frantic by the minute. He waved at the growing pile on the floor. “Do you honestly believe Amelia left here under her own power and took none of her things with her?”
Dante shrugged. “She’s done it before.”
Driscoll growled at him and knelt to look under the bed. He swept his arm in a wide arc and touched a box. He pulled it out and flipped the top off.
Sucking in a deep breath, he shook the box and thrust it at his brother. “Do you still think she absconded with the necklace? There are numerous shillings and a few farthings in here—saved from her earnings I would say. I hardly think a thieving young woman would steal an expensive necklace that she would be forced to sell, and then disappear leaving behind all her belongings, and this money.”
Driscoll stood and tossed the box on the bed. “Something’s happened. Whatever or whomever she was running from has caught up to her.”
18
For as quickly and unexpectedly as Amelia had been bundled off from London to a place unknown, she was then whisked back to London the next morning.
She slept almost
