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“ H ave you seen my wife?” Nathaniel asked a little while later, after he headed back inside.

“No, Your Grace,” the hostess said. “But I saw her go outside into the gardens earlier.”

“But not since then?”

“I did not,” she said, frowning.

He caught up to Julian. “Did you see Evelyn in the gardens?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Because apparently that is where she went. I can’t find her anywhere.”

“Your Grace,” A familiar voice said.

“Lord Pendelton?”

Nathaniel said, momentarily taken aback—for this was the very first time he had seen Lord Pendleton since he had crawled his way out of Nathaniel’s pond, covered in sea grass and trailing several puddles’ worth of water behind him. He looked rather more dignified this day.

“Lord Pendleton? I trust you have been well?”

“Much better than the last time we saw one another,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I have been staying away from bodies of water.”

Nathaniel had to suppress a grin, despite the worry nagging at the back of his head.

“You were out looking for your wife? I overheard you.”

“I was, yes. Have you seen her?” he asked. Something about Pendleton’s tone set off an internal alarm bell.

“A little while ago. She came from the gardens looking rather distressed and left immediately. Perhaps I ought to also let you know that I saw her speaking to Lord Halston earlier.”

“Halston was here?” Nathaniel said.

Pendleton nodded. “Yes. I recall that there was some bad blood between the two of you, and not long ago, he made some disparaging remarks about you and your wife. I thought you ought?—”

“Thank you, Pendleton. But, pray, what did he say?”

Pendleton shrugged and waved an arm vaguely in the air.

“Oh, that. Nothing you haven’t heard before.

Although he did mention that it would serve both of you right if your marriage—‘built on lies,’ as he called it—would implode.

I did not take him seriously. He has always been a dreadful bird-brained fool. ”

Nathaniel smiled. He had been wrong about Pendleton. He might be a bore with a rather too keen an interest in all things fish-related, but he was a decent man. “Thank you, Pendleton. Perhaps the two of us could take dinner together sometime.”

“I would like that, Your Grace. I do have some ideas regarding your climbing boys initiative. I always felt dreadfully sorry for those poor souls.”

“It was all my wife’s doing. In fact, she is the one who drew my attention to the matter.”

“Your wife is a clever one. Crafty as well. I would not have the patience or the stamina to keep up with someone like her, but I think the two of you are very well-suited.”

The two shook hands, and then Nathaniel, followed by Julian, left.

He asked for his carriage to be called around, but to his surprise, was told that it was already gone.

“We’ll take mine,” Julian said.

They got in the carriage, and Nathaniel nervously tapped his index finger and thumb together.

“Why would she have just left like that without talking to me first?” he asked. “Do you think Halston got to her?”

“She ought to know you better than that by now,” Julian said. “Surely.”

Nathaniel leaned back. “I am not that certain. It is true we have been united as of late, but we still do not know one another very well. I should never have led her to believe that I was not interested in her, or that I was anything other than committed to what our future might hold.”

“Perhaps she simply had a migraine,” Julian said.

Nathaniel looked at him. “I would imagine most ladies with a migraine would not simply storm out of wherever they currently were and leave their husbands behind without telling them.”

Julian shrugged. “Perhaps. Truth be told, I do not know too much about the ladies—well, out in the world anyhow.” He winked. “There are places where I know the ladies very, very?—”

“Julian,” Nathaniel groaned. “That is not necessary.”

“When did you become such a prude?”

“I am not a prude. I am simply married now, and I am worried about my wife.”

He leaned back, realizing just how true the statement was.

He was genuinely worried about Evelyn—not just about her health, but about the state of their marriage.

It seemed so unlike her to rush away. If he had done something to upset her, she usually did not hold herself back from telling him.

She was not shy about dressing him down as though he were a child.

No, Evelyn wasn’t the kind to simply duck and run.

Something had happened—but what?

By the time he made it back to Sinclair House, his bristles were thoroughly set up, and he rushed into the house immediately. The butler opened his mouth to say something, but Nathaniel ignored him, running past him upstairs to the east wing where her chambers were.

“Evelyn,” he called.

No answer.

He knocked on her chamber door and then entered when she didn’t answer.

The room was in disarray. Doors were open, and he saw that several hangers were empty, swaying still back and forth, as if recently disturbed.

There was a square-shaped dent on her duvet, as though something heavy had sat there.

Items on her side tables were knocked over, as were things on her nightstand and dressing table. Patch boxes were in disarray when he knew them to usually be neatly arranged. Drawers were half-closed.

She had packed and left in a hurry.

“No, no, no,” he whispered.

He opened a bedside drawer and saw that the novel she had been reading—the tomes written by ‘A Lady’ were also gone.

He ran one hand through his hair and looked around the room. She was gone—but why?

“Nathaniel,” Julian called as he came up behind him.

“Goodness gracious, is she always this messy?” he asked as he looked around.

“No, she’s very neat,” he said. “Things are gone. Her favorite dresses and her books—and the patch box her mother gave her,” he said, looking at the other patch boxes and noting that one was missing.

“Have you checked your chamber?” Julian said, the jest suddenly gone out of his voice.

Nathaniel’s head moved, but his legs were already doing the work. He made his way down the seemingly endless corridors, turned right, walked down another corridor, and finally—after what felt like an eternity—arrived in the west wing, where they had been staying together of late.

She still kept her own chamber, but she had stayed with him most nights. He entered the bedchamber, took the stairs two at a time—but found that she was not there either.

“Do you think she’s gone home?” Julian asked, having followed him.

“This is her home,” he said. “This is our home. I thought it was.”

Julian shook his head and walked around. He stopped by the bedside table.

“Well, it seems whatever storm possessed her did not hold at your bedside or your bedchamber,” he said in motion.

Nathaniel came around the bed and saw that everything had been knocked off his nightstand.

There was a candle lying separated from its candle holder, a book turned upside down, and a sort of trinket on the floor.

The pillow wasn’t where it was supposed to be either, lying in a strange spot, teetering between the bed and the floor as if trying to stand at attention.

Then he spotted it. There was a letter on his pillow—or where his pillow should have been. He picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed, while Julian leaned against the window frame across from him.

He wetted his lips and cleared his throat.

“Nathaniel,” she wrote.

“I wanted to believe that you had told me the truth about everything. That we had a future together and could be happy. I already envisioned the pitter-patter of small feet running up and down the halls outside our chamber. But I know now that this can never be, because nothing you told me is true.

I overheard you speaking to Julian. I know that you think that you are trapped in this marriage—trapped with my father—that you wish we had never met.

I heard everything. And as if that was not enough, I already know that you still go to the club and see women in the back rooms. And I know what you do there with the women.

I know what you’ve done there with the women all along.

You told me you got into a fight and that’s why you looked disheveled—but I know that’s not true, is it?

And after the theater, I smelled a woman on you.

But you were never at the theater, were you? ”

Julian said nothing, but shook his head, looking as shocked as Nathaniel felt.

“I was at the theater. What is she talking about? I smelled like Lady Haxham’s perfume because she spilled it onto me while applying more during intermission.”

“I do not understand either,” Julian said while Nathaniel looked back at the letter.

You have been seen not by one, but two different people.

Why did you not tell me the truth? There was no need to pretend that you loved me when you didn’t.

We had an arrangement. I could’ve continued living my life as I did—filling my hours with purposeful causes.

Why did you have to pretend you loved me and make me believe that there was a different future for me?

For that, I shall never forgive you.

By the time you read this, I will be gone. I suppose eventually we shall have to see one another, but I would prefer to make such communications through my father and your solicitor.

If you have any care for me at all, you will allow us to continue being married, so I might live my life as I had planned. If you insist upon a divorce, I shall not fight you .

“She’s gone,” he said. “She overheard us talking in the garden—and she must’ve thought I was talking about her.”

Julian frowned. “How is that possible? I thought it quite clear that we were talking about Lady Charmaine.”

Nathaniel said, “I do not know. But I suspect if one walked in mid-conversation and did not hear the start of it, it might not be quite as clear. Goodness gracious—she’s gone.

She thinks that everything I ever told her was a lie.

Clearly, somebody told her these lies. But who? Who would do such a thing?”

“Well, we know one,” Julian said in a dry tone. “Halston. But she surely would not believe him.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Nathaniel said. That, he was absolutely certain of. “But somebody else must have.”

“Well, who has a reason to?” Julian asked. Then his eyes grew wide. “I daresay I have an idea.”

Nathaniel felt the mirror coming on. “As do I. My friend, I shall require your assistance.”

Julian united his stance. “Whatever you need. I stand ready to storm any enemy’s fortress with you.”

Nathaniel smiled at his friend, full of gratitude. “Well, we shall not storm any fortresses today—but I have a certain townhouse in London in mind.”

“Onward we go!” Julian said, and raised one fist into the air as though they were indeed a confederacy of soldiers about to ride out at dawn.