Emma. The sound of his voice around her name . . . Oh, it grated. "What else do you know?"
"Nothing. Or nothing I'd reveal to a man who's looking for revenge against a woman."
Bastard. "I could destroy you with one word, Lancaster. It's clear you're living a hairsbreadth from ruin."
"Not a difficult thing to discern." But the man's eyes didn't look scared. He looked cold as winter. "But as you said, we were friends, and I have loyalty and decency left, if little else."
Jesus, the man had to be noble as well as charming? Oddly enough, Hart found himself capitulating easily. "I will not hurt her. I swear to that. I need to know who she is, where she is, if only for my own peace of mind. She's clearly a gentlewoman, if not the one she claims to be. She's alone and running God knows where. She could be in danger. I need—" The subtle shift in Lancaster's smooth expression stopped Hart in his tracks. "What? Is she in danger? Is she under threat?"
"I'm sure she will be fine."
"You're sure?"
His shoulder rose in a shrug that Hart caught in a vicious grip before the man could finish the gesture. "What are you not saying, Lancaster? You will tell me or I'll beat you to a pulp, do you understand?"
"Do you think I cannot see it in your eyes? That you mean to have revenge?" He knocked Hart's hand away. "She is only a young girl. She did not mean to hurt you."
"She didn't—"
"She was desperate. Afraid. Couldn't you see that?"
"I. . ." But of course he had seen those brief flashes of anxiety that she had never explained. He'd never pushed her to explain. And why was that? Because he'd wanted to pretend she meant nothing to him.
"Tell me." He nearly choked on the word, but he got it out. "Please."
"If you find her, and I don't know that she can be found, I want your word as a gentleman that you will not harm her and will not see her brought to harm."
"I give you my word." He did not even think about it before he spoke, though surely he'd meant to have revenge. Still, Lancaster studied him for long moments, doubt writ clearly on his features.
"All right. I believe you. And I've been worried. There was . . ."
"What?"
"She came here, several weeks ago. Arrived on my doorstep at dawn. She said she needed help."
A shaft of fear slid slowly through Hart's chest. When it reached his heart, he realized it was pain too—hurt that she hadn't come to him. "What was the matter?"
"A man followed her to London. Someone from her past."
Hart shook his head, but Lancaster didn't pause long enough for Hart to clarify that there were no men in her past.
"He was from Cheshire. She said he'd fallen in love with her and made a nuisance of himself. After her husband died he became irrational. Delusional. Claimed that she had never been married and that she was meant to be his wife. She was frightened."
Hart was still thinking over the man's so-called delusional claims. "What else did he say?"
"That was all she told me. But she was obviously frightened. Apparently the man had broken into her home and confronted her. She wanted him gone. She wanted to be gone."
"That's why she left?"
"Partly, I suppose. But she needed to make sure he didn't follow. I found a willing constable to take him to jail. Emma paid to keep him comfortable and well fed until she could leave."
"He's still there?" This man, he would know—"
"He was freed last week."
"His name."
"