My Fair Lily (29 page)

She thought of her parents. They’d be worried, desperate to find
her. She knew they were feeling helpless just now, unable to do anything
but pray for her safe return. Tears welled in her eyes. She ought to have
been a better daughter, attended more of those society functions that her mother thought were so important.

“I’ll make it home safe,” she muttered to herself. She’d use her wits to stay alive until her loved ones found her. She could manage
it. After all, these villains must have grabbed her for a purpose.
Likely they were after ransom. Why else take her?

Ashton’s family had resources as well. Though not as wealthy as hers, they still had enough to make his abduction worthwhile. Perhaps they would be released together. A chill ran up her spine. She ought to be remembering something. She couldn’t quite place
what was so
important. It didn’t matter. It would come back to her as the fog
lifted from her brain.

How long had she been unconscious? No more than three or four hours, for she wasn’t hungry yet. Which meant they couldn’t be all that far from London. Perhaps still in London. Could she smell
the Thames?
She took a deep breath, but all that surrounded her was the
nauseatingly
sweet scent of the drug used on her in Eloise’s garden. It hadn’t
worn off yet. How long would such a thing take to leave her body? Mere hours? Days? She didn’t know.

Concentrate on what you do know.
If they were in London, she’d hear the peal of church bells. There were hundreds of churches throughout the town and they rang their bells at regular intervals.
She’d hear something, no matter on which side of the Thames she was hidden.

Hours seemed to pass. No church bells. No scent of a river. No sounds at all, other than the rush of wind and intermittent, pelting rain. She wasn’t in London—something about the air and her surroundings felt different. How far away were they?

The lock on her door suddenly clicked and the door slowly groaned open. Someone stepped into the room holding a lantern. She tried to make out who it was, but the brightness of the light
blinded her. “M’lord, she’s awake,” the villain called to someone standing just outside the room. “What shall I do?”

“Put her back to sleep.” The voice had an odd, deep quality, as
though the man behind it did not wish to be recognized.

“No! No!” She tried to resist, but her struggles were useless against the burly fellow. He shoved a damp cloth against her face and pressed tight until she could no longer hold her breath. The
disgusting fumes overwhelmed her senses.

Her head began to spin.

Within seconds, she’d be unconscious. However, all was not lost. She’d recognized the voice outside the room, even though the man had tried to mask it. She now knew who’d abducted her.

And now she was really worried.

***

Ewan’s heart was in knots. Lily’s life depended upon the sleepy rambling of a little boy. With only that unreliable clue to work on, he knew they were in trouble.

“What if he’s wrong?” Dillie asked, echoing his concerns.

As they hurried downstairs, George strode in. “The Bow Street
runner’s still unconscious.” He glanced around and then motioned for them to join him in the parlor.

Ewan was eager to tell him what they’d learned, but waited for
George to shut the parlor doors. The fewer people who knew about
Lily’s abduction, the better. Even though she was the innocent victim,
Ewan knew her reputation would be irrevocably tarnished if word got out.

“I left the runner in the care of the Duke of Edgeware,” George continued. “He’s offered to do all in his power to help.”

“Edgeware? How did he find out?” This was bad. If the duke
knew, then how many others did as well? Ewan began to pace a hole in the elegant carpet. Though eager to ride off in search of Ashton, he needed to hear the rest of what George had to report.

Dillie, who had just fallen into a seat on the settee, shot back up.
“Ian’s helping? I certainly didn’t tell him. He must have seen me
fretting and figured out something was wrong.”

“Ian, is it? Quite friendly with him. Too friendly, I’d say. I
already have one niece in trouble. I don’t need another.”

Dillie shot her uncle an indignant frown. “Rest assured, I have no intention of losing my heart to that man.”

“I hope you’re right. No matter, we’ll discuss it later.” He turned back to Ewan. “Edgeware will inform us as soon as the Bow Street man comes around. He also knows Homer Barrow. Said he’s the best at what he does. He sent one of Eloise’s servants off to summon him with instructions to report to him at the Farthingale residence. Mr. Barrow will come straight here.”

“You can wait for him. I won’t.” Ewan quickly told George what they’d learned from Charles. “I intend to bang down every door in London, turn over every slimy stone until I find that wretched bastard.”

George let out a short, mirthless laugh. “Ashton? No, I don’t
believe it. Charles is just a boy. Who knows what goes on in his
childish mind? He must be mistaken. Let’s wait for Mr. Barrow. Running off on that flimsy lead without a well thought out plan will be a waste of precious time.”

“Perhaps, but it’s the only lead we have to go on. Staying here, doing nothing is worse.”

George sighed as he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go with you. I know where he lives. Let’s start there.”

Dillie put a hand on her uncle’s arm. “What about me? I can help.”

“We need someone here to act as our field general, to instruct Mr. Barrow when he arrives, to know where each of us is at all times and send word if there’s a breakthrough,” Ewan said.

George patted her hand, his voice laced with pain as he said, “Your parents will have to be told about what’s happened.”

Dillie’s eyes rounded in alarm the moment the import of his words struck her. “And you want me to do it? I can’t! I don’t know
how. The news will destroy them.”

Ewan wished he could be more encouraging, but he was in quiet agony as well. “Do your best, Dillie. Be strong for your sister. For your parents. Don’t let them give up hope. Whoever did this can’t have more than a fifteen-minute head start on us. If he meant to
harm Lily, he
would have simply done it in the garden. She was drugged and carried off. This was planned. He wanted her alive.” The fear in her eyes mirrored his own, though he hoped he hid his better. “Tell Mr. Barrow where we’ve gone. Have him catch up to us at Ashton’s
residence.”

In truth, he was relieved George had agreed to join him. Besides being a cool and steady hand, he was a capable doctor. Though Ewan didn’t want to think of the ominous possibilities, he knew
George would be needed if Lily was hurt.

No. Lily was strong. Smart. She was damned perfect.

He’d get her back safely.

He issued final instructions to Dillie though she didn’t really need them. George hugged his niece. “Do your best to keep the Farthingale clan under control. If Ashton is behind Lily’s
disappearance, I’d rather he isn’t alerted. For that matter, I’d rather no one but the immediate family be alerted right now. Your sisters and their husbands will want to help. Ask them to stay close. We may need their muscle or their useful contacts if the search leads us out of London.”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Dillie assured, even as more tears
welled in her eyes. “Please find her.”

The Mortimer townhouse was directly across the park, so cutting through it on foot was faster than taking a carriage. The night was dark despite the full moon, but gathering storm clouds partially hid
its silvery glow. If not for the occasional lit torch, the park would have been plunged in darkness. A swift, damp wind was at their backs and Ewan noticed a sudden wintery crispness to the air.
Damn. Lily’s thin silk gown wouldn’t keep her halfway warm.

“What if Ashton isn’t there?” George asked. They’d cleared the park and were turning onto the fashionable Belgrave Square where he resided.

“I don’t expect him to be. If he’s involved in Lily’s abduction, then he’s likely with her. I’m more interested in talking to his father, hoping he’ll point us in the right direction. I’m no expert in matters of abduction, but Lily wasn’t taken on a mere lark. Ashton, if he’s our
villain, planned it over the course of several weeks. Perhaps months. I’m starting to think the attack on Lily at Tattersalls was a kidnap attempt that failed. That planning must have included a
suitable place to hide
her. We needn’t reveal our true purpose. A few, well-phrased
questions should get him to tell us where his son has been spending his time lately.”

George let out a shaky breath. “I hope you’re right.”

“If he won’t talk, we’ll try his servants.” Though he doubted they’d get much information out of them. Servants were often wary
of those whom they believed were above their station.

Homer Barrow caught up to Ewan as he was about to knock on
the door of the Mortimer residence. “M’lord,” he said breathlessly, the
jowls on his face wobbling as he shook his head. “Good thing I
happened to be checking on my man tonight.”

“Indeed, we sent a footman off to fetch you, but I feared he’d never find you in time.” He gave silent thanks for this small stroke of good fortune.

“So I gathered. I came upon His Grace, the Duke of Edgeware, who was helping my injured man. He sent me over to the Farthingale home and Miss Dillie told me what’s happened. ’Tis a
nasty business, but I’ll put my best runners on it. No charge, sir. Though I’m sure that’s the least of your concerns. I feel responsible. Ye trusted me and my men to protect the lass and we failed.”

“As did I, Mr. Barrow. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I, m’lord. I’ll talk to the servants while ye’re talkin’ to the father. Don’t think he’ll be of much help. But them servants notice everything. They’ll open up to the likes of me.”

He watched Homer scurry to the servant’s entrance with
surprising
speed for a portly man. He was pleased to know his Bow Street runners would be doggedly on the case. These were skilled,
determined men and he needed their assistance.

A little less than half an hour had passed since Lily’s abduction. Why hadn’t he figured it out sooner? All the while, he’d thought the enemy was his. But Lily was the one in peril all along. He’d hired a man to shadow her. He ought to have put an army to the task.

He knocked at the front door. The Mortimer butler led them in and settled them in the parlor. “You’d better ask the questions,
George. He doesn’t know me.”

George nodded.

It seemed an eternity before Ashton’s father deigned to come down, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. They’d probably roused the old man from his bed. “Dr. Farthingale,
I’m surprised to see you at this hour. Fields said it was important. Is something wrong? Has something happened to Ashton?”

“No, my lord. Well, perhaps. We’re not sure. You see, he and my niece, Lily, are missing.” He introduced Ewan as a friend, not mentioning his name since it would have revealed his connection to
the Duke of
Lotheil. Ewan thought it wise. His grandfather had come down hard on Ashton, and Lord Mortimer may not have been too pleased about it.

“What are you suggesting? An elopement?” His ancient eyes brightened. “He’s been talking about her quite a bit lately. I thought something was afoot.”

Ewan exchanged a glance with George.

“Yes, children can be quite impulsive these days,” George said, trying to sound casual, though Ewan heard the tension in his voice. “Did he mention where he might have taken her? You see, she’s underage and still requires her parents’ consent to marry. She’s such
a clever little thing, we often forget how young she is. Perhaps
Ashton’s forgotten as well.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Youngsters in love rarely think of
practical matters.”

“Of course, the Farthingales would be delighted by a union of our families. We’d like to make certain it is properly done, no
embarrassing oversights. You understand.”

Lord Mortimer nodded. “I certainly do. Lily’s a fine girl. I wish I could be of help, but my son isn’t one to confide in me.”

“Think, sir. Any hint of where they might have gone? No matter how trivial.”

The old man shrugged his shoulders. “No, but I’ll summon you if something comes to mind.” With that, he dismissed them and rang for Fields to help him up the stairs.

Ewan sensed the old bastard was lying. He wanted to ask more questions, but decided against it. He’d caught an urgent look in the butler’s eyes.

“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” George said, his disappointment obvious.

They both rose, but instead of heading for the door, Ewan held George back. “The butler knows something. I think he’s willing to talk. Let’s wait.”

It didn’t take long for the man to return. Whispering, he drew
them aside and turned to George, his expression clearly troubled. “You say your niece is missing?”

George nodded. “Tell us what you know.
Please
.”

“The Mortimers have a house in Maidstone. Sparrow Hall’s the name. Haven’t used it much lately. It was in Lady Mortimer’s family and Lord Ashton inherited it upon her death last year. A drafty old place. Never cared for it m’self, but he was there just last week
stocking
supplies for the house. When Mrs. Fields asked him about it, he muttered something about hunting on the grounds with friends. She’s my wife and is housekeeper here. We’re a small staff, only five
of us in service.”