Mary turned her smile at Josie’s confession into a smile for Elijah as he rode close to the edges of the tree branches, his piercing blue eyes full of suspicion.
“What are you three doing here?” he barked out, and Mary almost jumped. Elijah could be abrupt, but he was rarely rude. “Where are your chaperones?”
“My maid is on that bench, just beyond you,” Mary said, nodding her head in the direction.
“And mine is over there.”
“My groom is walking our horses about,” Josie said airily, waving her hand. Mary did not believe for one moment Josie did not know exactly where her horse was being walked, but Josie did love to get under Elijah’s skin when he was bossy.
Elijah’s mouth tightened, the suspicion not dropping one iota from his expression. For once, though, he did not rise to Josie’s bait.
“Evie is missing.” He watched them carefully as he made the pronouncement. All three of them gasped. Josie put her hand over her heart.
“Missing?” Mary asked, stepping forward and drawing his attention, giving Lily and Josie a moment to catch up. Out of the three of them, she was the best liar. “You mean she’s not back home? I thought she wanted to spend this Season on the estate.”
“That is what she said, but my father sent Adam back home to… pick up something for him, and Evie was not there. Mrs. Jamison told him Evie toldhershe was bored and had decided to spend the Season in London after all. Apparently, she left weeks ago, even sent Mrs. Jamison a letter telling her she had arrived safely, but she is not here.” His agitation was so great, the large bay horse he was sitting upon danced beneath him for a moment.
“I am sure she is fine,” Josie announced from behind Mary, and Mary barely bit back a groan. Elijah refocused his attention, eyes narrowing. Even when Josie was telling the truth, the two of them got along like cats and dogs.
“You are not worried?” he asked, the question coming out as a challenge.
“You must admit, Elijah,” Mary hastily interjected before Josie could respond. “Evie often disappears to do… things. We have become rather used to it. The last we spoke to her, she said she thought you and your father were keeping something from her. Is it possible she has decided to act on her own?”
Relief suffused her when Elijah frowned, his gaze turning inward. “She… dammit.”
Without another word, he turned his horse’s head and nudged it into a canter, taking him swiftly away from them. Worry rose in Mary’s chest, sharp and sweeping. She had only meant to prick Elijah, seeing as he, his father, and brothers often left Evie out in an effort to protect her, but he would not behave so boorishly if he were not truly distressed.
“Perfect, now he is going to think Evie is hiding from them as retribution,” Josie said, cackling. Mary turned back to face her. Josie stopped laughing when she saw the expression on Mary’s face, her own smile turning to a frown. “What is it?”
“He might think that, but more likely, he will think she is doing exactly what she is doing—investigating on her own.” It would hardly be the first time.
“Which begs the question, why did he react that way?” Lily said, concern filling her voice as well. “What does he know that we do not?”
“More importantly, does he know somethingEviedoes not?” Mary bit her lip, but there was nothing they could do. They did not even know where Evie was staying or how to contact her other than these weekly meetings.
A pall hung over them. Evie was so confident, so determined, not a one of them had questioned her. How could they when it came to protecting their country? The situation had not seemed personally dangerous to anything other than her reputation until this very moment—Elijah would not be acting that way unless he felt it was his cousin’slifein danger.
“We will ask her next week,” Josie said stoutly, a little paler. “Until then, we will have to do as she asked.”
“And beverycareful about what we are doing.” Lily exchanged a worried glance with each of them. They parted much more somberly than they had come together, each hurrying homeward, lost in her own thoughts.
Rex
The pounding on his front door drew Rex to the foyer before Cormack could fetch him. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday in Mayfair—no one would be hammering at his door like that unless it was an emergency.
“Let me in!” Lucas’ familiar voice rang through the room just as Rex reached it, his friend pushing past Cormack. Turning, Cormack’s confliction was clear, although it slid away from his expression, turning to relief as soon as he saw Rex.
“The Earl of Devon has come calling, m’lord.” Cormack’s censorious tone made it clear he would be happy to remove Lucas if Rex so desired, forcibly if necessary. One look at Lucas’ sweaty, flushed face and any small temptation Rex had to accept Cormack’s inclination melted away.
Lucas was deep in his cups again. Throwing him out would likely end in him, causing a scene and disturbing Rex’s neighbors, two things he had no wish to do. While he was rapidly tiring of Lucas’ vices and growing selfishness, he knew anything Lucas did outside of Hartford House would reflect just as badly on Rex. They’d been friends for too long, often paired in people’s minds, and if Lucas was three sheets to the wind on Rex’s own lawn… With how drunk he was, Lucas would not care. Hell, he might not care even if he was sober.
Bone-deep tiredness flowed through Rex. When had their friendship turned tothis? When had Lucas become this kind of man? He had not always been this way. It used to be that Rex depended on Lucas even more than the other way round. He supposed he’d always felt in debt to the man because of that. Lucas was the one who had encouraged Rex to embrace himself as he was, the one he had turned to whenever he needed a shoulder or a helping hand. Now the roles had not only changed, but Lucas asked far more of Rex than Rex ever had of him.
Rex was uncomfortably aware he shouldered some of the blame in enabling Lucas’ slow slide into dissolution. While he had only meant to help by paying Lucas’ debts and smoothing his paths, he had shielded Lucas from the consequences of his own actions. Unfortunately, the guilt of knowing he’d enabled Lucas had pushed him to do so even more.
That had to end now. Lucas was no longer a callow youth, responsibility thrust upon him at too young an age, and Rex had his own responsibilities now.
“Come in,” Rex said, turning to lead Lucas back to his study.