Page 34 of Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife (Cinderellas of Mayfair #1)

I’m lost in night.

You’re not in sight.

The dark is near.

There is no cheer.

Once they reached York, Hugo immediately rushed to the house, hoping against hope that Athene would be there. She wasn’t.

He questioned every member of the household about her movements, including her tearful maid Franny, who was overcome with remorse that she hadn’t gone with her mistress.

But it was as Wesley had said. Athene had slept the morning away, picked at a light meal, then left on what she’d said would be a short stroll.

Hugo was distraught to imagine what could have happened. Had she been abducted? If so, he’d need professional help to find her. Or the chance remained that she’d been in an accident. No more reassuring. If she was dead, how would he go on without her?

When he’d decided to make her his wife, he thought that he loved her as much as a man could love a woman. But now, the idea of losing her forever demonstrated that she was as necessary to him as air. He refused to believe that he’d never see her again.

He sent the staff out to inquire at the city’s inns. The problem was that York was a major staging post and the city was crammed with busy hostelries.

The servants had already asked after her in the local neighborhood, where a few people had seen Athene heading toward the center of town.

But there the trail went cold. Visits to all the shops along the way turned up nothing.

Nobody had served an elegant dark-haired lady fitting Athene’s description.

Franny and the cook waited at home, in case Athene returned or there was news.

Hugo wasn’t risking any more lone females on the city’s streets.

While his male servants spread out across town, Hugo spent hours in fruitless interviews and paid out a fortune in tips in the hope that cash might open closed lips. All to no avail.

With every failed interrogation, his apprehension intensified. And a sick, pervasive guilt. He’d sworn to keep Athene safe and he’d failed miserably. He almost began to wish that she’d left him. At least then, the odds were that she was still alive.

But in his heart of hearts, he knew that she hadn’t abandoned him. She’d stewed over coming to his bed. Once she decided in his favor, she was committed to their liaison.

Which meant the options for what had befallen her were bleak indeed. Too bleak for Hugo to contemplate and keep his sanity.

He trudged home after midnight, battling encroaching despair. He’d always prided himself on his mental strength. It turned out that he’d been having himself on. Athene’s disappearance proved that he was too cowardly to picture a life without her.

No, he wasn’t giving up. All wasn’t lost. He’d find her if it bloody killed him.

But as he plodded up the short flight of stairs to the front door, his bravado rang hollow. He prayed that the others had some news to share.

He went down to the kitchens, which had become their de facto headquarters. At the table, Paul and Benton, the groom, ate bread and cheese. Fogg and Wesley must still be out searching.

“Any news?” He took a seat beside them. Although he knew when he looked around the faces drawn with exhaustion and discouragement that there wasn’t, despite all their diligent searching.

“I’m sorry, Sir Hugo,” Benton said, lifting his mug of ale.

“Go to bed. You’ve both done more than I have a right to ask.”

The cook, Mrs. Jones, shoved a plate and a tankard in front of him. “Here, Sir Hugo. You’re dead on your feet.”

Hugo eyed the makeshift meal without enthusiasm. He picked up a slice of bread and cheese, then laid it back down again. Swallowing anything solid would make him retch, but he lifted the tankard and gulped down some beer.

“I’ll keep looking,” Benton said. “I hate to think of our lady in trouble.”

Hugo did, too, damn it.

“So will I,” Paul said stoutly. “Just because we haven’t found anything yet doesn’t mean we won’t.”

Running feet clattered down the hall. Hugo already stood by the time Wesley burst into the room, gasping for breath. “Sir Hugo! Sir Hugo!”

Hugo’s heart lodged in his throat and he had difficulty getting his question out. “Have you found her, Wesley?”

The lad reached for the back of a chair. He was panting so hard, he could barely stand. “I think so.”

“Where?”

“She’s at the King’s Arms.”

Hugo, whose hopes had risen to astronomic heights with Wesley’s visible excitement, felt the agonizing punch of disappointment like a fist in his gut. The King’s Arms was one of York’s largest coaching inns. It was the first place that he’d tried.

“I went there, Wesley.” Sounding calm was tough, but the letdown wasn’t the lad’s fault. “She’s not there.”

Wesley’s jaw set in an unrelenting line. “I’ve got a pal who works in the stables. They were all paid to keep quiet but because we’re chums, Fred tipped me the wink.”

While that was promising, this time Hugo kept a lid on his optimism. “What did Fred say?”

“The Earl of Stannard’s sister was in a carriage accident this afternoon.” Wesley spoke in fits and starts. He’d clearly run like the clappers to get here. “His lordship carried her to the King’s Arms, and they’ve had doctors in to see her.”

“I’ve got nothing to do with Stannard’s sister.” Hugo tried to contain his irritation. “I didn’t even know the sod had a sister.” He’d met Miles Colton-Heath several times since the man inherited the distinguished title five years ago.

Wesley looked as frustrated as Hugo felt. “But Fred saw her brought in. A black-haired lady in a lavender pelisse with black frogging.”

Another punch to the gut. Athene was wearing that when she disappeared. He didn’t understand what the devil she was doing with Stannard, but this sounded like Wesley might be right.

He pushed aside his surging lightheadedness to winnow everything Wesley said. If this mystery woman was Athene, she was injured and in pain. Perhaps even close to death. “How badly was she hurt, Wesley? Does Fred know?”

Wesley shook his head. “No. She wasn’t conscious and the earl was very keen to avoid notice, I gather. Fred hasn’t heard any more. But she must be alive because the doctors are still there.”

“Thank God for Fred.” Hugo extended an unsteady hand to shake Wesley’s. “Thank God for you. Well done, lad.”

Fogg already poised at his shoulder. “I’ll go with Wesley and see what I can find out.”

Wait here for news, now that they had a lead? Not bloody likely! “No, I’ll go. Stay here. I’ll send word once I know more.” Hugo was already halfway up the stairs. “Wesley, come with me.”

“Yes, Sir Hugo.”

As they dashed out of the house, Hugo struggled with the turbulent emotions raging inside him.

Relief that perhaps they’d located Athene at last. Agitation over her well-being.

Confusion about who the Earl of Stannard was to her.

Perhaps the man was just a Good Samaritan who aided a lady in trouble.

Hugo struggled not to see anything more sinister in events.

***

“How may I be of assistance, Sir Hugo?” Miles Colton-Heath entered the downstairs parlor at the King’s Arms. “I’m otherwise occupied this evening, so if you state your business briefly, I’ll appreciate it.”

Hugo was too frantic to discover if Athene was in this man’s custody to bristle at the haughty tone.

The Colton-Heaths had always been high in the instep.

They were a distinguished military family, but had never been active in society.

The previous Earl of Stannard hadn’t been far off a recluse.

The Colton-Heaths were so antisocial, Hugo had almost forgotten they existed.

He lurched to his feet. He was on such tenterhooks, he couldn’t bear to sit. While he prayed that he’d found Athene, a tiny portion of his heart hoped she was safe elsewhere. Fred had provided a heartrending description of the crumpled, unmoving figure carried into the innyard.

“I believe you may be sheltering my fiancée,” he said baldly. “She’s been missing since this afternoon, and she fits the description of a woman brought here several hours ago.”

“Your fiancée?” The earl looked annoyed. And no wonder. Fred had confirmed that the fellow wanted to conceal the lady’s presence.

“Yes, we’re to be married this week.” It was a lie, but only because Athene was so blasted pigheaded.

After today’s ructions, Hugo intended to have a serious discussion with her about their future and the need for a legal bond between them.

He wanted a husband’s claim over the woman he loved.

He wanted her at his side. He wanted to show the world how proud he was of her. “That’s why we’re in York.”

Now Hugo looked closer, he saw signs of worry and tiredness on Stannard’s aristocratic features. “She wasn’t wearing a betrothal ring.”

“I was out buying one when she went missing.” Hugo’s gesture was a plea.

Raw emotion crashed through the strained formality, and his voice cracked with distress.

While they wrangled, his beloved might breathe her last. “Please, for God’s sake, man, tell me if Athene is still alive. Tell me what the doctors said.”

Stannard looked taken aback. “You know her name?”

“Damn it, of course I do.” Hugo had no doubt now that Athene was upstairs. “Let me see her.”

The earl wasted another second studying Hugo, before he made up his mind. “Follow me.”

“Thank you.” Hugo’s words rasped with surging gratitude. They crossed a crowded hall then climbed a flight of stairs. “How is she?”

When the earl shook his head, Hugo’s heart turned to stone. “She hasn’t woken up. York’s best doctor is with her, but he seems at a loss.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Tell me what happened.”

Stannard paused as they rushed along a corridor and sent Hugo a searching look. “Do you know her history?”

“Some of it.” He should have pushed for the rest, but he’d thought that they had time. Today’s events proved how uncertain their future was, unless he made her his.