Harlequin Historical June 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Louise Allen

Author:Louise Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘My lord!’

Jack forced open one eye and quickly closed it again, groaning at the sick thud resounding through his skull after too much brandy last night. The spirit had helped lull his incessant speculation about Beatrice’s failure to join them for dinner—was her headache real, or was it an excuse to save her from facing Kit—or even Jack—again? He could hardly blame her, not after she’d overheard their argument yesterday morning when the cat was missing. He had missed her company, though.

‘My lord!’ A hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him. ‘Wake up!’

Jack’s eyes flew open this time. Good God, he had been drifting off to sleep again. He rolled on to his back and eyed Carrick balefully.

‘Well? What is so urgent you must disturb me? We do not depart until nine at the earliest and it cannot be that late.’ He levered himself up on his elbows, suddenly doubting his normally accurate inner clock. ‘Is it that late?’

‘It’s barely past seven. It’s Miss Fothergill, sir. She’s gone. Vanished!’

‘Gone? Gone where?’ Jack threw aside his bedclothes and sat on the edge of the bed. His head thumped sickeningly, his belly roiled and his arm throbbed.

That damned brandy must have been off. I’ll have a word or two to say to the landlord when I...

He forced his fuddled brain away from the distraction of the brandy and back to the matter in hand as Carrick handed him his dressing gown. Beatrice gone? His stomach lurched again, this time with fear. He’d known Fothergill was in the vicinity and yet he hadn’t warned her, believing she would sleep better without that added worry. Had Fothergill somehow discovered her whereabouts and taken her? Fear and panic joined the guilt churning his belly.

‘Tell me what you know, Carrick.’

‘Mabel woke me, sir.’ For the first time, Jack realised Carrick was still clad in his nightshirt and nightcap. The planned late start to the final leg of their journey meant the servants, too, had enjoyed a lie-in. ‘She went through to Miss Fothergill’s room and the bed was empty. Cold, sir. She’s weeping fit to fill a firkin. Thinks you’ll blame her and turn her off, sir.’

‘What about...?’ Jack scowled, forcing his thoughts into order despite the pain that spiked his eyes and his tumbling emotions. ‘What about her luggage? The cat?’

‘All gone, sir.’

Jack scrubbed his hand through his hair. ‘That sounds as though she left of her own accord.’

‘I thought the same, sir. If it’d been that brother of hers, he’d have just grabbed her.’

Relief flooded Jack, closely followed by anger. What the devil did she think she was about? They were so close to London...she’d only to put up with Kit and his grouchiness for a few more hours, and she’d be safe. As it was... He swallowed, his throat raw. Didn’t she even consider anyone else’s feelings or how much worry she would cause them all by simply disappearing?

Drat her. And yet...the Beatrice he thought he knew would never do that. She would hate to be the cause of unnecessary worry.

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