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Charlotte nodded, unable to think of anything else to do. When she was alone in Frederick’s room, she began to circle the space, her stare falling to the discarded clothes on the floor.

They are not in the basket.

Unease grew within her as Charlotte considered what that meant. Frederick usually put everything that was ready to be washed in the wicker basket that could be found in each room. Diedre would certainly not leave them there unless she had yet to get to them. It suggested that Frederick had gotten dressed in a hurry, hastily discarding his clothes.

“Where have you gone to?” she mused to herself.

Creak.

The floorboards near the door squeaked, and Charlotte jumped. Turning, she assumed it would be Diedre coming back to finish her chores, but Rose stood in the threshold, a concerned knit to her brows.

“Rose?”

Charlotte approached her, regarding the woman with a deep furrow to her own brow.

“I…I have heard your conversation with Frederick.” Charlotte’s stare flared wide with the news. “I have also informed my brother that the Baron has sent another threat. I…I believe that he’s…”

She was taken with nervous energy, and the fear that had been steadily growing between Charlotte’s ribs worsened. Frederickhad been undoubtedly upset following their conversation. If he’d received word that the Baron was harassing his sister again, or more importantly, word of his location, there was no telling what he might do.

“Rose, did he have a location? Did Frederick leave to pursue the Halfacre?”

After a moment, her sister-in-law nodded. “I’m afraid he did.”

Charlotte’s shoulders drooped, and she sighed—a long, exhausted exhale that took every bit of air from her lungs.

“Dammit.”

At that moment, Diedre returned, and Charlotte rushed to her. “Did anyone speak to the Duke before he left? It is of the utmost importance that we find him.”

The housemaid startled slightly at the intensity of Charlotte’s words, her stare flicking between the Duchess and Rose, the Duke’s beloved sister.

“I…He may have spoken to George before his leaving. I believe I saw him discussing something with the Duke, and the butler entered Frederick’s study, procuring something before he met His Grace at the carriage outside.”

Charlotte took Diedre’s hands and clasped them tightly. “Thank you, Diedre. Thank you.”

Turning from them, Charlotte took off with the intention to find George and determine what exactly it was he talked with the Duke about—and what he gave him that had been done in such secrecy. But before she could move more than a step, a hand fell on Charlotte’s shoulder.

“I am coming with you.” Rose stepped up next to Charlotte, meeting her gaze hard.

“Rose,” Charlotte took the woman’s hands, offering an expression that she hoped would convince her to remain behind, “I am unsure where he has gone. It is very likely unsafe to be rushing after him.”

“Then why are you going?” Rose’s matter-of-fact tone hit Charlotte, and there was little argument she could offer. “Besides, I know where he has gone.”

Charlotte surged forward, desperation clawing up the back of her throat. “Where, Rose? Where?”

“There is a gaming hell. I can direct the tiger to it.”Clever girl, keeping the name to yourself.“I will not stay here while my brother risks himself all for me. I…I can’t.”

Nodding once, Charlotte gave up on any more attempts to keep Rose in the house. There was no use, and furthermore, she could understand her sister-in-law’s feelings. Charlotte herself was unwilling to let Frederick go off and risk himself, particularly because she had a feeling that he was doing so recklessly, with no regard for himself.

That would not do.

“Very well. But I must know what he took with him. I…I have this terrible feeling that Frederick is about to do somethingextremelyfoolish.”

Rose nodded back at her, and the two of them tore down the stairs in search of George. When they reached the ground floor, they found the butler in the kitchens overseeing what was being prepared for dinner, much to the cook’s dismay.

“I do not need you watching over my shoulder. Busy yourself elsewhere, George, or my spoon is going to be finding its way up where only God knows you.”

Charlotte would have laughed in any other circumstance, but as it was, that gnawing anxiety over Frederick was pooling in her gut, sending waves of nausea to claim her with each heartbeat.