“Well, Sutherby must have written the letter. He is the only other person, other than Lord Markham, who knows what happened in the garden last night.”
“But what would he hope to achieve by it? Do you think he intends to demand a ransom?”
Alexander had no idea what the man was capable of. But the longer he stood conversing with her aunt, the longer Eve was alone with Sutherby.
“Whatever Sutherby’s plan, you must trust me to find your niece and bring her home safely. I would like to keep the letter if I may.”
Mrs. Penrose nodded. “You have saved us both on occasion, my lord, and I trust you will come to her rescue again.”
“I assure you, I will not return without her,” he said grabbing his hat before heading out of the door.
Mounting his horse, Alexander’s first thought was to ride directly to Sutherby’s house on Half Moon Street; although the man would have to be an idiot to take Evelyn somewhere so close to home. Sutherby must have hired the carriage he used to transport Evelyn to some unknown destination. With his finances in such a sorry state, the act was a sure sign of desperation.
And desperate men did desperate things.
An image of Evelyn lying bound and gagged flashed through his mind, and he clenched his jaw as he dug his heels in and raced towards Elliot’s house in Portman Square.
When he eventually found Evelyn, he would need a carriage to bring her home. When he found her, he would need someone to stop him from ripping the scoundrel’s throat out.
As Alexander rode into Portman Square, he found Elliot standing on the pavement next to his carriage, examining his pocket watch beneath the light of the lamp. He looked up and gave Alexander a nod before dismissing the liveried footmen. With numerous gestures to the crest on the door, his coachman climbed down from his box.
“I need your help,” Alexander panted not bothering to jump down from his horse. He glanced at the carriage. “You’re not going out?”
“I’ve been waiting,” Elliot said putting his watch away. “I knew you’d come. And the only place I'm going tonight is with you.”
The coachman rolled out two pieces of cloth with metal brackets sewn onto the ends and proceeded to cover Markham’s crest by clipping them onto the doors.
“How did you know I’d be coming?”
Elliot threw his hands up and shrugged. “Usually, I struggle to hear people’s thoughts when I'm not in the immediate vicinity. But for some bizarre reason, I could feel your pain. I’ve been pacing for the last hour, wondering what the hell was going on. I told Gibbs to ready my carriage, yet I have no notion where we are going.”
“Miss Bromwell is missing.” Alexander steadied his horse, the animal sensing his agitation. “She received a note, supposedly signed by my hand.”
“But you think it was Sutherby.”
“Who else? I should have put an end to all of this last night.”
Elliot smirked. “You mean you did not tell Miss Bromwell the news when you called on her again?”
“Well, no.” He was an idiot, a selfish fool. He reached into his coat pocket and removed the letter. “Here, read this.”
There was a moment of silence before Elliot blurted, “But she met him almost five hours ago.” The trace of panic in his voice hit Alexander like a hard blow to the stomach. “They could be anywhere. On the road to Scotland, heading towards the south coast … anywhere.”
Alexander felt the blood drain from his face. Finding them would be an impossible task, he knew that, but he would just have to follow his instincts.
“I’ll meet you at Sutherby’s house on Half Moon Street,” Alexander said, folding the letter and putting it back in his pocket. “I doubt he’ll have taken her there, but we may find some clue as to his intention.”
Elliot nodded. “Very well. I think we know his motivation is money. He’ll not harm her, not when he sees her as a commodity.”
“Am I supposed to feel reassured?”
“We’ll find her,” Elliot said firmly. He glanced at Alexander’s horse. “I’ll call a boy to stable your horse.”
“That won’t be necessary. I prefer to ride.”
“What’s the matter? Frightened I might bite you.”
The words were said in jest, yet he felt a frisson of fear at the memory of the devil woman’s closed carriage, fear that quickly turned to anger. “In my haste to find Miss Bromwell, I’ve not sated my hunger this evening. There’s every chance I’d drain you dry. Now, shut the hell up and follow me to Sutherby’s.”