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“Lady Donoghue?” Richard had asked before turning to Theodora.

“Such is where we erred, my lady. We should have asked to speak to Lady Donoghue. If we had realized her ladyship’s presence at Donoghue House, we could have saved ourselves a great deal of embarrassment, my dear,” he continued.

“May we ask for an audience with Lady Donoghue or even Lord Donoghue, though I had heard nothing of his return, had you, Theodora?”

“No, none of us has heard of the Donoghues’ return, and my father is in charge of both foreign and domestic affairs,” Dora said sarcastically while staring down the butler.

“We should make arrangements for Lady Emma’s return to Donoghue House. I imagine Lord and Lady Donoghue are quite distraught with the knowledge of their daughter’s absence.”

“Any father would be,” Theodora stated in innocent tones, but Richard knew the girl was unbelievably capable if he required her assistance.

“I did not say either Lord or Lady Donoghue is in residence,” the butler assured, but the man’s irritation was still evident.

“Then you have no reason not to follow Lady Emma’s orders. Lady Theodora and I will return, say, in two hours, to claim Lady Emma’s belongings.” Richard wished to throttle the man for his inactions, but he held his temper. “Are we, at last, speaking in accord?”

“All will be prepared as Lady Emma has ordered,” the man had said grudgingly.

A half hour later, Sir Hunter saddled up next to Richard. “Where is your mind?” Hunt asked. “I rarely see you so self-absorbed.”

“Nothing in particular. Just a few errands I must run for Duncan Place,” Richard lied. “A bit exhausted after all our ramblings last evening.”

Hunter smiled and squeezed Richard’s shoulder. “I understand from Sprig that you saved a demoiselle en détresse last evening.”

“The woman had been attacked by street thieves. She wandered too far away from her friends. From what little I learned, she had argued with her escort who flirted with another. She meant to claim a hack but stepped to a side street and became the victim.” For all Richard knew, what he had just described could be the truth, though he could not conceive of any man with Lady Emma Donoghue on his arm who would think to flirt with another woman.

“Then I am glad you were the one who came across her. Someone else might not have been so heroic,” Hunter observed.

“I am glad Sprig was able to drag you from the lovely blonde’s bed last night,” Richard remarked to switch subjects.

“Shush!” Hunt warned. “I do not wish Eliza to hear your words.”

“Naturally, we must keep Miss David’s innocence intact,” Richard confirmed.

But he could not shake the feeling that one of his best friends was making a disastrous decision.

Naturally, Miss David would be enjoying Hunt’s fortune, and Hunt, Richard supposed, the woman’s connections to the aristocracy.

However, for as long they had known each other, Richard and Hunt had spoken of marrying for love, not a financial arrangement.

Now, his best friend was going against everything they had promised each other.

Moreover, Richard had the feeling that if the situation was reversed, Lady Emma would have known empathy if she had learned of a similar attack on Miss Elizabeth David, whereas Miss David would be repelled by viewing a woman as beaten as had been Lady Emma Donoghue.

Miss David would blame Emma for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“What are Alexander and the others executing for you today?” Theodora asked once they had retrieved Lady Emma’s trunks from the woman’s household and set out for Duncan Place.

“The expected,” Richard responded. “Looking for clues in Covent Garden. Lady Emma’s shoes, perhaps, will show up in one of the many street markets.

A woman’s evening shoes would likely match her gown, so I suggested they look for something in a yellow tone.

Of course, any fancy evening slippers at a street fair would likely be notable.

We could determine better where she was before I found her.

Alexander and the others will ask around to learn if anyone heard something unusual last evening, though, in truth, I suspect Lady Emma was attacked elsewhere and left in Covent Garden. ”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

Richard shrugged his response. “My explanation will sound odd.”

Theodora smiled at him. “I enjoy a bit of ‘odd.’”

“You always were inquisitive,” he said with an easy upturn of his lips.

“Lady Emma is bold. Responsive. She is a bit fearless, for she has had no one to warn her not to stand before a powerful man and address his shortcomings at the top of her lungs and not expect some sort of strike against her,” he said in complaint, but Richard could not erase the smile from his lips.

“I found nothing,” he explained, “that indicated an altercation had occurred near where I discovered her, and she was too disoriented to have walked far, especially with no shoes. One thing I asked of Mr. Rheem last night was to examine Lady Emma’s feet.

If she had walked about for long while barefoot, her feet and stockings would have been cut to shreds from sharp rocks and glass and God only knows what else is on the streets of Covent Garden. ”

“So, you are of the persuasion to believe the attack came from someone the lady knows?” Theodora surmised aloud.

“Perhaps not intimately,” he said with a silent prayer for his instincts to prove truthful, “yet someone who is familiar with her habits.”

Theodora did not respond immediately, but Richard knew what she would ask. “Is there any information regarding who shot my father?”

“None beyond what you already know. Aaran means to attempt to work his way into some of the Luddite groups to learn if the attack on your father was purposeful,” Richard explained.

Emma was thankful for the efforts made by Lord Orson and Lady Theodora.

Mrs. Chester and a footman had delivered the bag and the small truck.

“Lord Orson and our young mistress have brought you some of your things so you might feel better in wearing your own clothes, though Lady Theodora says you should continue to use the ones I borrowed from her so you will have several options.” Mrs. Chester was unpacking each of the items reverently, shaking out the wrinkles, and handing them off to Marjory to hang in the wardrobe.

“You’ve shoes of your own, at last. See.

” Mrs. Chester held up the shoes for Emma’s inspection, and she nodded her agreement, but she had no idea whether they were truly hers or ones from Lady Theodora’s quarters.

“Would you care to wear a pair now?” Mrs. Chester asked.

“You’ve been pattering about barefooted since Lord Orson carried you into this room.

I find my feet are always cold when I do not wear shoes, even in the summertime. ”

“I have not truly minded,” Emma admitted. “It was quite freeing, but I had thought if Lord Duncan would not mind, I would like to explore the garden I noted below. Do you think his lordship would object?”

Mrs. Chester said diplomatically, “Though I am confident Lord Duncan would not mind your praise of his garden, I suspect Mr. Rheem would prefer you did not venture too far. Mayhap, we might ask Lord Orson to escort you into the garden. We would not wish you to go out alone and then be frightened by not having someone near or by something you heard on the street. You require a bit more time to recover. You’ve not been with us even one full day.

Do you not think my suggestion is wise, my lady? ”

Emma accepted a pair of slippers and stockings and sat in a nearby chair to place them on her feet. “Naturally, you are correct,” she told the housekeeper. “It is just that the garden appears so tranquil and peaceful from what I can view from this room’s window.”

“It is lovely,” Mrs. Chester remarked as she placed undergarments and stockings into the drawers of the wardrobe.

“Do you suppose I have a garden at my own house?”

“I would imagine such is so,” the housekeeper said as she turned to Emma.

“Most of these great houses have a substantial vegetable garden and a floral one, as well, though none of them could be as large as the ones upon their home estates. Lord Duncan is said to have an extensive garden at both his Scottish estate and the English one he inherited in the country.”

“You have not viewed them yourself?” Emma asked.

“No, my lady,” the housekeeper remarked as she turned to Emma. “I was born and raised in London proper. Likely I will die in London proper.” She paused to extract something from the bottom of the cloth bag. “Have you a need for these letters, my lady?”

“Letters?” Emma reached for the stack, tied together with a black ribbon, thinking they might be from her parents and could provide her a return of her memory, but when she looked upon them, fear struck through her, and she backed quickly away from them.

“Please put those away for now,” she managed in what she hoped were not words of alarm.

“I will read them later. I would not wish to jog my memory too quickly. Mr. Rheem said I should do so gradually.”

Emma held her breath until Mrs. Chester returned the letters to the bottom of the bag and squeezed the empty bag into a space at the bottom of the wardrobe. “Likely we should consult Mr. Rheem first before you read them again,” the housekeeper said. “You chose wisely, my lady.”

“It will be daunting enough to read them alone. Perhaps Lord Orson would agree to sit with me while I open up familiar memories. His lordship always seems to know what is best in those situations. Though I have not known him long, I have come to depend upon his judgment.” Emma pulled her legs up under her to sit in the chair Lord Orson had used last evening.

She was not confident she knew why the letters had frightened her, but her instincts said they were not ones she should consider right now.