The Forbidden Lord (The Lord Trilogy) by Sabrina Jeffries

Author:Sabrina Jeffries [Jeffries, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

To act the part of a true friend requires more conscientious feeling than to fill with credit and complacency any other station or capacity in social life.

Sarah Ellis, English missionary and writer,

Pictures of Private Life

Ophelia looked askance at St. Clair as she rose from the bench. “What do you mean, you can’t find them? They must be here somewhere.”

He seemed to share her concern. “I’ve searched every room, but they’re nowhere to be found.” He handed her a scrap of woven silk. “I did find your shawl, however. It was only a couple of rooms away.”

Of course it was. She’d purposely left it close by. So where on earth were they? A pox on Blackmore, that rascal. She should’ve known this would happen, especially after yesterday. And now it would be on her head, as well it should be. She was the one who’d let the girl in for this trouble.

“When I get my hands on that scoundrel…” she muttered as she hurried across the room.

St. Clair marched grimly beside her. “You can have him after I’m through. I swear, I had no idea he’d try something like this. Jordan isn’t generally irresponsible. Some might even say he’s too responsible sometimes. But he has this fool notion about your daughter that—”

When St. Clair broke off, she stopped and grabbed his arm. “What fool notion?”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me what Blackmore is up to with my daughter!”

“It’s ridiculous. It’s just that—”

“Hello, Mama,” came a cheery voice from behind her. “I’m afraid we didn’t find your shawl. We’ve been looking everywhere.”

Ophelia turned to find Emily and Lord Blackmore approaching, a few paces apart. Though the girl was smiling, the smile was patently false. Her bonnet was on crooked and her face was flushed. And Blackmore was looking as fierce as those carvings of the soldiers she’d just seen.

Something had happened, something monumental. Tension emanated from them, as taut as a well-strung bow.

“Where in God’s name have you two been?” Ophelia asked, her angry gaze fixing on Blackmore.

Blackmore met it with unrepentant insolence. She found it a tad unnerving.

It was Emily who answered, the words coming out in a rush. “I’m so sorry if we worried you, Mama. When we couldn’t find your shawl, we spoke to the guards, but they hadn’t seen it, so we went out to the carriage and looked there. Didn’t we, Lord Blackmore?”

He hesitated a moment, his scowl deepening, if that were possible. “Yes,” he finally clipped out. “Of course. We went out to the carriage.”

A blatant lie if she’d ever heard one. But if they hadn’t gone out to the carriage, where had they disappeared to?

Ophelia held up her shawl. “St. Clair found it for me. How odd that you missed it. It was only a couple of rooms away.”

Emily wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Yes, how odd.” She looked as if she were thinking, then added, “Oh, I know. That must have been the room we skipped because Lord Blackmore said you hadn’t gone in it.

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