The front door opened silently under her hand. She stopped on the top step to check for observers. The day was sunny and no one was passing, she couldn’t have picked a better time to go. Her only thought was that she ought to have brought her parasol to protect her complexion from the sun.

  But it was too late to turn back now. Mother might notice her. Charlotte rushed down the stairs and headed for the Duke of Exeter’s home, and once she turned off her street, she slowed her steps to a gentle stroll.

  London really was her favorite place in all the world. So full of wonders and advancements every day. Mother and Father might spend their days unraveling the past, but Charlotte had always been more interested in the future and how she’d be part of it.

  Because she was going about unattended by a servant or maid today, Charlotte kept her chin down and her steps unhurried so she didn’t draw attention. The Duke of Exeter’s residence was exactly where she’d left it, of course, and it was in sight when a glossy black traveling carriage, with most of the window blinds down, pulled up directly in front of her.

  She glanced at it with annoyance and was about to step around it when a gloved hand beckoned to her from the shadowed depths. “Hurry.”

  She glanced at the hand, then her eyes dipped to the crest painted upon the door. Recognition turned to excitement. “Winston?”

  “Come.”

  Charlotte scrambled inside before anyone saw her talking with the earl. Society would be scandalized, and gossip might spread at her joining him, but she wouldn’t be deterred. It had been hours since she’d seen him, and she’d missed him terribly.

  Before she could even catch a glimpse of his face, he pulled her straight to his side as the door snapped shut so darkness surrounded them entirely. His arms wrapped tight around her body as the carriage took off, heading away from the Duke of Exeter’s residence.

  “Where are we going?” Charlotte snuggled into Winston’s embrace as they left the square far behind. “I was on my way to see you just now. Did you find your brother yet?”

  “I’ll deal with him later, too, but you’ve certainly saved me the chore of finding you,” said the man holding her.

  A man she didn’t recognize at all.

  Charlotte struggled to turn, to escape the stranger’s arms and opened her mouth to scream for help, but a scented rag was quickly pressed over her nose and mouth.

  Charlotte fought harder to be free. But it was no good. The man behind her was too strong and the drug-soaked rag weakened her strength with every single breath she took until she didn’t remember the next.

  Chapter Twenty

  Winston ran up the front stairs of Charlotte’s home and knocked hard on the front door, hoping to enter swiftly before anyone passing the house recognized him. The two guards Exeter had pressed upon him followed.

  It was late in the afternoon, and the butler appeared as shocked to see him at the front door as he’d been the night Winston had arrived covered in blood. “Can I help you?”

  “I need a word with Miss Waters. Immediately,” Winston murmured, keeping his voice low in case her parents happened to hear him asking. They might be blinkered and blind to the comings and goings of the house, but he was still an engaged man calling on their spinster daughter. They might get the wrong idea about the nature of his visit. Even if it was the right one now, he supposed.

  He passed the butler—Davis, if he recalled correctly—a handful of coin. “I’m sure she’ll want to hear what I have come to tell her.”

  At least he hoped so, because he desperately needed Charlotte’s company and advice. Questioning Peter had borne no new information other than having his brother admit he was in debt and engaged in a sordid money-making scheme.

  But to every question about trying to kill Winston, Peter claimed total innocence. He’d even threatened violence upon the person who was out to get him.

  Winston wanted to believe his brother with all his heart, but he could not let down his guard yet. He’d always felt he could rely on his brother to be by his side through thick and thin. To tell him anything. How crushing it was to realize he might have been naïve to believe in a fantasy that a close family bond existed between them. He could hardly believe his brother could stoop so low as to engage in sexual relations for money.

  After the butler ushered him inside, Davis rushed to close the door. Winston discovered a lot had changed since his last visit here. He was surrounded by packing crates and trunks of every possible size in the hall. There was barely enough room for two grown men to converse, let alone squeeze another pair in.

  Charlotte’s butler took a deep breath and then straightened his shoulders, moving to put the front door at his back. “I’m afraid Miss Waters isn’t at home.”

  Winston frowned at Davis as he tucked away the coins that had gained Winston entry, and then at the locked door behind the man’s back. He fought not to shiver, checking behind him for other people lurking about. But the hall only housed boxes and crates, and he relaxed slightly. “Why admit me when the person I’ve come to see is not here?”

  The butler wet his lips and then gulped. “Miss Waters trusted you, and I fear I must do the same now. I must tell you…she is not to be found tonight.”

  Winston scoffed. “Not to be found? Likely she’s visiting friends. Perhaps she’s attending a musical or a ball.” He glanced around him. “Or perhaps trapped behind a trunk somewhere. What is all this, by the by?”

  “The family has begun packing for their departure.”

  He frowned. “So soon?”

  “Indeed, but it now appears Miss Waters has run away from home in an attempt to delay or avoid leaving with her parents the day after tomorrow.”

  Winston gaped. “What?”

  “Servants were sent to fetch her back from any friend or acquaintance who might have tried to harbor her, but we are now certain no one we know has her. We are all quite worried, in fact.”

  A shiver raced down his spine. Charlotte shouldn’t be missing, and she certainly shouldn’t have run away without telling anyone. She could have run to him if she wanted to hide from her parents. He owed her the return favor of sanctuary, surely. But what good could running away do? Such behavior could mean the ruin of her reputation. “When was Charlotte seen last? By whom?”

  “Her mother spoke with her this morning, upstairs in her chambers, I believe. It was not a happy conversation, I’m afraid to say. Harsh words were spoken. Mrs. Waters is quite upset about that.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “All the servants have been questioned and their movements accounted for,” the butler promised. “We are all devastated about Miss Waters being gone, and quite worried for her welfare. Her parents even offered a reward, though none have stepped forward to claim they know her whereabouts.”

  “At least her parents noticed she was gone,” he muttered under his breath. Winston rubbed a hand over his jaws. “Are you telling me that Charlotte has been without the protection of even a servant for the last several hours?”

  “It seems that way.”

  He glanced at the men flanking him. “One of you return to Grafton House and inform the duchess of this development. If Miss Waters is there, return immediately with the news.”

  The fellow nodded and squeezed out the door again.

  “I’ll need to speak with her parents now,” Winston decided, his stomach churning with worry. “They don’t know me well, but I will get to the bottom of Charlotte’s so-called disappearance, I assure you.”

  “Very glad to have you here, sir. I’ll do my best to gain you an immediate audience with them,” the butler promised.

  “Perhaps this will help.” Winston quickly offered his card, and the butler’s eyes widened.

  “Forgive me, my lord.” Davis appeared decidedly nervous now. Had he never known Winston’s identity? He would have to thank Charlotte for that later. “If you’ll just wait here a moment, my lord, I’ll interrupt them immediately.”

  Winston smiled. “Thank you, Davis.”

  The butler slipped around a tall pile of trunks and into the drawing room on the other side. When the door opened, he heard the conversation immediately stutter to a halt as his arrival was announced.

  He hadn’t realized anyone else was with Charlotte’s parents, but of course someone must have come to console them. Charlotte had many friends who would be concerned about her whereabouts.

  The butler returned for him promptly, and he stepped into the quiet drawing room.

  He was confronted by Charlotte’s friends—Mrs. Berringer, and Miss Aurora Hillcrest. This was going to be a little more public than he’d care for, but his concern for Charlotte was a greater fear than any awkwardness.

  All eyes fixed upon him as he made his greetings to Charlotte’s parents, who looked upon him without a flicker of recognition. “I hear there’s been an unpleasant development. Your daughter is missing, I believe.”

  Mrs. Waters clutched her hands in her lap. “Have you any news of her?”

  “No, I am afraid not.” Charlotte’s parents seemed too distracted to make him the offer of a chair to sit in, so he chose his own place instead. He nodded to Mrs. Berringer and then turned his attention to Charlotte’s parents again. The pair looked very worried, belying Charlotte’s claim that they didn’t care about her welfare at all. “Your butler tells me Charlotte has not been seen for hours.”

  Everyone looked around Winston, eyes narrowed. Winston glanced over his shoulder and found that the butler had followed him into the room, remaining behind him. The fellow was wringing his hands. Apparently, Davis was very loyal to Charlotte, and Winston thought he deserved not to be sent away for gossiping to him.

  Winston shrugged. “I made him tell me everything, of course.”

  Some of the tension in the room disappeared, and Davis whispered his thanks. Winston put the focus back on Charlotte’s parents. “I believe you were the last to see her, speak to her, Mrs. Waters?”

  “Yes, we had a horrible row,” Mrs. Waters admitted finally, rubbing her brow. “I left her in her room to start packing and when we went in to dinner, she was tardy joining us. I sent a servant up, only to be told she could not be accounted for.”

  Winston glanced at his pocket watch. It was almost seven o’clock now, and the streets were dark. “At what time did you sit down to dine?”

  “At four.”

  “And your row occurred at?”

  “About nine o’clock this morning,” Mr. Waters answered, patting his wife’s hand. “We’d only just risen for the day. My wife wanted to speak with Charlotte before she made any plans to go out.”

  So, some few hours after she’d left the Duke of Exeter’s home, she’d left her parents’ protection, too. “And your discussion ended in an argument. What was that about?”

  “She’s so stubborn,” Mrs. Waters complained. “She promised to pack for the voyage, but all her trunks were empty still. We said such horrible things to each other. I’ll never forgive myself if she’s run away over it!”

  Charlotte had a right to be angry over her parents’ neglect. Their obsession was well known and perhaps the argument was one straw too many. “Are any of her trunks missing?”

  “No.”

  “Any of her favorite possessions gone?”

  “Only her reticule, I believe.”

  Charlotte had some money upon her, at least, then. “Might she have gone shopping on Bond Street with friends and been lured home with them?”

  “She does like pretty things. Thimbles and the like.” Mrs. Waters waved her hand toward the two women sitting close together on a chaise lounge. “And there they are, her best friends sitting right in front of you, and none have seen her at all today.”

  Winston studied the women lined up on the other side of the room. Charlotte was very close to these ladies. But there were more. And any good friends might have hidden Charlotte from her parents and lied about it still. Coming here to wring their hands might ensure they looked believably concerned. There were a dozen ways Charlotte could remain in London if that were truly her wish. “Where is Harriet Long and Miss Draven today?”

  “Bristol,” Eugenia Berringer answered. “Harriet had left London before Charlotte even knew she had so little time left with us. Miss Draven had been taken to the country by her guardian around the same time.”

  He caught the eye of Mrs. Berringer. As a married woman, married to a man who would become a duke one day, she’d have the best resources at her fingertips that the others did not. “Are you hiding Charlotte and don’t want to admit it? You are quite wrong to keep her from me, if you are.”

  Mrs. Berringer’s brows shot up. “No. Of course I’m not hiding Charlotte. She is our dearest friend. I’ve openly offered her room with us, and it is her parents who have made the offer impossible to accept. They demand she marry to stay in London.”

  He glanced at the elder couple. “Demand?”

  “She either marries or comes with us. That was our agreement,” her father said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Perhaps we were wrong to do that,” Mrs. Waters whispered to her husband.

  “How was I to suspect she’d run away over the matter? She’d always been entirely biddable before.”

  Aurora Hillcrest burst to her feet. “You gave her only weeks to find a husband, and then announced an intention to leave a week earlier just this morning. Unfair and unkind, making it impossible for her to succeed! I would have run away under the same circumstances.”

  Winston sat back, appalled by Charlotte’s parents’ lack of feeling. He could easily believe that she might have panicked about an early departure and done something rash, but surely, she would have gone to a friend to tell them what happened before disappearing entirely.

  He would have liked to know what was going on himself. He would like to know where he might find her again. They had important matters to discuss. She claimed to love him, and he felt the same about her. Something had to be done about his wedding to Elizabeth, too, before the day got any closer. But now he was committed to finding where Charlotte had gone. “This is odd indeed.”

  He looked up as a throat cleared loudly and found Aurora Hillcrest staring at him. “Why are you so interested in Charlotte’s whereabouts?”

  A fair question, and one he couldn’t answer honestly just yet. He smiled quickly. “She’s a friend of my friends, and I don’t like when you’re all upset.”

  Aurora squinted at him. “Yes, but why you when no other gentleman has come to show any concern.”

  “He’s here on his mother’s behalf most likely to set her mind at ease,” Eugenia Berringer soothed. “It doesn’t matter why he’s come, only that he’s willing to help with the search. Yes?”

  “Indeed I am.” He turned to her parents, who were now huddled together, a lost look in their eyes. “What has been done so far to recover her?”

  Mr. Waters heaved a heavy sigh. “We sent out our servants and they looked up and down the streets nearby. She knows the dangers out there and how to defend herself.”

  “Quite,” he answered, fearing he might throttle Mr. Waters if given half the chance. Charlotte should never have had to protect herself. He was proud that she could, but her father was lax in protecting his only daughter from danger. She needed someone in her life to put her first.

  Winston’s heart started to beat very fast. He could be that for her, and would be one day. He looked over his shoulder. “If Miss Water’s had gone out in the morning and fallen or been injured, someone should have stumbled over her. Send a servant to any local physician, apothecary or physician that lives nearby and make inquiries.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Davis promised without waiting for the Waters’ agreement. “It will be done immediately.”

  “You can go with him, too, and help with the inquiries,” he told the duke’s man.

  “But I was told…”

  “Do it. I’m quite safe here I assure you.”

  The fellow did not look very happy about the order but eventually nodded. “Very well, my lord. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  Winston nodded and turned back to Charlotte’s parents. “Did she happen take her parasol with her?”

  Mrs. Waters frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “She usually carries one,” Aurora murmured.

  When the butler returned saying servants had been dispatched, Winston asked to view Charlotte’s bedchamber.

  Mrs. Waters opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs. Berringer nodded. “Perhaps you’ll see something we all missed.”

  Aware he was watched closely, he strode from the room. Halfway up the stairs, he heard footsteps rushing to follow behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to find Aurora Hillcrest climbing the stairs. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll let you know in a moment,” she replied.

  He strode ahead of her, straight into Charlotte’s room, and looked around. Everything was more or less as Winston remembered seeing it last. Her thimble collection had been shuffled about but there were still thirteen of the original collection on display.

  “Where is it,” Winston murmured, checking around the room.

  “Perhaps she’s taken it with her,” Aurora suggested.

  But he found it a moment later, propped against a wall in her dressing closet behind the door.

  He glanced out upon the street from her window. If Charlotte had decided to run away forever, she might have left some belongings behind, but he didn’t think it likely she’d forget her parasol. She carried that item everywhere. She would have taken something else from her room, too. Gowns, coat, etc. One small trunk at least. A thimble. Thanks to his extended stay in her dressing closet and bedchamber, Winston was well acquainted with everything Charlotte possessed.

  Although it was a futile thing to do, he checked behind her trunks in case she was hiding there. When he didn’t find her, he flicked through the contents of her wardrobe one gown at a time. The yellow gown he’d favored was missing. His favorite out of all she owned. In the corner was her carefully folded costume that she’d worn the prior night.