Page 45
“ W here is she?” Rowan demanded as Georgiana’s butler opened the door.
“Your Grace, I’m afraid Lady Emberford is not receiving?—”
“I don’t care if she’s receiving. I need to see her now.” Rowan pushed past the startled servant into the entrance hall. “Georgiana!”
She appeared at the top of the staircase, her face pale with concern. “Rowan? What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Selina? I need to speak with her immediately.”
Georgiana descended the stairs slowly, her expression guarded. “She’s not here.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know she’s been staying with you.”
“She was, but—” Georgiana stopped at the bottom of the stairs and crossed her arms. “Why should I tell you anything? You sent her away, broke her heart. She’s been miserable for days because of you.”
“Because her life is in danger.” The words came out harsh, desperate. “Someone tried to poison her in our home. Someone who wants to hurt me by destroying everything I love.”
Georgiana’s face went white. “Poisoned? When?”
“Four days ago. The water in our chamber was tainted. If she hadn’t collapsed before drinking more of it, she’d be dead.” Rowan dragged a hand through his hair. “I thought pushing her away would keep her safe… but I was wrong. They found another way to get to her.”
“Dear God.” Georgiana sank onto the bottom step. “I left her in the park with Mary just a few hours ago. She wanted to walk alone, to think.”
Ice filled Rowan’s veins. “Which park? Where exactly?”
“Green Park. Near the southeast corner, by the grove of trees. She promised to be back within the hour, but—” Georgiana looked up at him with dawning horror. “She never returned. I sent James to look for her, but he found nothing.”
Rowan was already moving toward the door. “How long ago?”
“Three hours. Maybe four. Rowan, what if?—”
But he was gone, the front door slamming behind him as he ran for his horse.
The ride to Green Park took forever and no time at all. Rowan’s mind raced through possibilities, each more terrible than the last. Annette had taken her, he was certain of it. But where? And what did she plan to do?
He reached the park as the sun was setting. It cast long shadows across the grass. Other visitors were departing, leaving the paths increasingly empty. Rowan searched frantically, calling Selina’s name, checking every bench and grove.
He found her in the southeast corner, near a cluster of trees that blocked the view from the main path.
Not Selina.
Georgiana’s maid was crumpled on the ground beside an overturned bench. She was awake, but trembling, her face streaked with tears.
“Mary!” Rowan jumped down from his horse and ran to her. “Are you hurt?”
“Your Grace…” she choked out, sobbing. “I’m so sorry. I failed her. I failed my lady.”
“Just tell me what happened. Start from the beginning.”
“She asked me to wait by the trees. Said she needed a minute to think. I stayed close, I was watching her, I swear. But then I heard something behind me. I turned, and someone hit me. When I came to… she was gone.”
“Did you see who it was? Hear anything?”
She shook her head, wiping her face on her sleeve. “Nothing. I’m sorry, I didn’t see?—”
“It’s not your fault.” Rowan helped her up, his thoughts already racing. “Can you get back to Lady Emberford’s? Tell her what happened.”
“Yes, Your Grace. But where’s Your Grace? Where would they take her?”
Rowan’s voice was low. “Annette’s got her.” He wasn’t really talking to Mary anymore. He was already moving, already calculating how much time he’d lost.
“Your Grace?” Mary called after him as he swung back into the saddle. “Who’s Annette?”
But he was already riding, hard, toward Mayfair.
Annette’s townhouse on Berkeley Square looked perfectly normal with lamplights glowing in the windows and not a thing out of place. Rowan didn’t stop to think. He hammered on the door until it opened.
A stiff butler raised an eyebrow. “May I help?—”
“I need to see Lady Winsley. Now.”
“I’m afraid Lady Winsley isn’t at home,” the man said smoothly. “If you’d like to leave a card?—”
Rowan grabbed him by the front of his coat and yanked him forward. “Don’t play games with me. Where is she?”
“Your Grace! Unhand me this instant!”
“I asked you a question. Where is Lady Winsley?”
“I don’t know!” The butler’s composure cracked. “She left this afternoon with a small bag. Said she’d be away for the evening but gave no destination.”
Rowan released him, stepping back. “Did anyone accompany her? A driver, a servant?”
“She drove herself in her own carriage. Quite unusual, actually.” The butler straightened his rumpled coat. “Your Grace, if I may say so, this behavior is?—”
But Rowan was already gone, leaving the butler staring after him in shock.
Back on the street, Rowan stood beside his horse, mind churning. Annette could have taken Selina anywhere. London was vast, full of hiding places, abandoned buildings, rented rooms where no one would think to look.
Think like her , he told himself. She wants revenge, wants to make him suffer. She’d choose somewhere with meaning, somewhere that would twist the knife deeper.
Somewhere connected to his father.
The memory hit him like a physical blow.
He was maybe fifteen the first time it happened.
His father vanished for three days on one of his usual drinking binges.
Rowan had scoured half of London before finally tracking him down in a cottage just outside the city, drunk and rambling in the arms of his mistress.
Annette’s cottage. Their little secret.
Rowan swung onto his horse and kicked it into motion, heading for the outskirts of the city. The place was tucked away in a grove near a small village about an hour’s ride. If Annette was looking for somewhere private to stage her revenge, somewhere soaked in old bitterness, that’s where she’d go.
As he rode, Rowan’s mind filled with terrible possibilities. What if he was wrong? What if Annette had taken Selina somewhere else entirely, and he was wasting precious time chasing ghosts?
What if he was already too late?
He pushed the horse harder, racing against darkness and his own fears. The cottage had to be the answer. It was the only place that made sense, the only location that would satisfy Annette’s need for poetic justice.
Behind him, London’s lights faded into the distance. Ahead lay only darkness and the desperate hope that he wasn’t already too late to save the woman he loved.
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