Sephy laid her forehead against the hard oak and couldn’t believe she’d been so blind to imagine that a woman like her mother could truly love her. The only thing she’d ever cared about, or ever would, was this house.
“Don’t worry, your duke is quite safe. It’s you that’s been specifically requested.”
Sephy fisted her hands against the door. “What have you done?”
“Let’s just say I’ve made a deal with the devil who will soon come to collect his due. Soon, everything will be settled and you can go back to Falcourt and play at being his duchess once again. That is, if he will even have you after tonight. If not, then I suppose this will be your new room to entertain.”
Her laughter floated down the hallway while Sephy’s screams and cries of frustration were thoroughly ignored.
***
Hunter walked in the door later that evening and asked the butler where Persephone was. He was annoyed that the only thing the solicitor had summoned him for was a trivial matter at the estate that wasn’t quite as urgent as he’d insisted it was, but even then it had taken longer than he’d anticipated to return. Dusk was already starting to fall.
He had it in mind to apologize to Persephone for being forced to delay their outing, but when he was told she wasn’t even there, but had gone to her mother’s house, panic instantly struck his heart until he forced himself to calm. As far as he knew, Lord Gregory was still in the country at his father’s estate, so he likely wasn’t an impending threat. And it wasn’t as though he could protect Miss Welton by keeping her a prisoner in this house. He had to allow her certain freedoms if he had any hope of convincing her to stay with him. Since the king refused to give his blessing on their union, he intended to spirit her away to Gretna Green, that was, if she would even have him.
He shoved a hand through his hair. He had intended on speaking to her about their future arrangement when they returned from their carriage ride, but it looked like that would have to be postponed.
With his brow set in a permanent crease, he headed to his study to take his mind off the tension settling into his shoulders. Something just didn’t feel…right, but he pushed it aside, deciding it was his own unease.
He had just sat down behind his desk, staring at the mahogany top and remembering the last time he’d been in here with Persephone, when there was a knock at the door. He blew out a heavy breath. “Enter.”
“Your Grace.” The butler appeared in the frame. “There is a lady here to speak with you. She has requested an urgent audience—”
Hunter stood as the Countess of Virsage entered his study without even waiting for the servant to continue his sentence. He had never met the eccentric lady in person who persisted in living in the previous century in both her fashion and manner of speech, but Persephone had spoken often of her confidante in her letters to him.
As she put back the hood of her cloak, he saw her powdered wig and the patch near the side of her mouth. But instead of appearing coquettish, her eyes held a seriousness that he wouldn’t have expected. “Pardon the intrusion, Falcourt, but I’m here for concern over Persephone’s wellbeing.”
He breathed a curse, realizing that he should have listened to his instinct instead of brushing it off. He rounded the corner of his desk. “What do you know?”
“You are aware that she went to her mother’s house?”
“Yes,” he said grimly. “I was told a woman had arrived to speak with her and that they left together. I don’t know all the details as yet, but it seemed rather important. I assume something has happened.”
“I think it’s more than that.” She paced the room. “I’ve heard Lord Gregory is back in London. In truth, I think he’s been back for some time. Rumor has it he has been seen in the company of the queen at Frogmore House.”
Hunter clenched his fists. “The bastard. Of course he would try to coerce the queen to drop all the charges of his crimes and set him free.”
“Precisely,” the countess concurred. “But then why would he target Miss Welton when there is so much on the line?”
“To get back at me,” Hunter returned sourly. “I knew he would strike back at me any way he could for my part in his arrest.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.
“Then she is likely in great peril. There is no time to waste.” She headed for the door with Hunter right behind her. He grabbed his coat on the way out. “We’ll take my carriage.”
The ride across London took an interminable amount of time, but finally, they arrived at their destination. With the countess at his side, he walked to the door as a united front.
But when they asked to see Persephone, a towering man blocked their way. “She’s not ’ere.”
“Then where is she?” the countess demanded.
“Abraham? What’s all this ruckus?” Hunter saw Persephone’s mother stride forward. In similar form as the countess, complete with powdered wig and a patch near her mouth, she smoothly intercepted the conversation. “Ah, Your Grace.” She inclined her head politely, and then addressed the countess. “Charlotte. Do what do we owe this pleasure?”
“We wish to see Miss Welton,” the countess replied firmly. “We know she was here, Phryne.”
“Indeed, she was, but she left hours ago,” her mother said evenly. She slid her glance to Hunter. “Has she not returned?”
“No.” He would have said more, but his throat was clogged with anger. Just as his
