Then she opened the door and sallied outside, closing it behind her.
Sebastian stared at that closed door, waiting to see if she would return, tip her head, and laugh in that charmingly unfettered way of hers before admitting she had been elsewhere. The door opened, but it was his mother, the Duchess of Hartford, who entered, fashionably dressed in a dark green riding habit of the latest style, a hat with several plume feathers tilted rakishly atop her mahogany brown curls. At five and fifty, his mother appeared to be a lady ten years younger and owned an even younger lady's energy.
"Perdie has returned home?" she asked, tugging her gloves from her hands.
"I wasn't aware she had been missing," he said drily.
No, his sister had been very circumspect in the address she had scurried off to for almost three hours. And then lied about it.Bloody hell. This was a scandal waiting to happen, and he did not want that for her or their family.
"Anna mentioned that she was missing," his mother said, taking off her hat and fluffing the feathers, before tossing it onto the sofa closest to her.
Mrs. Anna Hartington was a young lady of modest means who served as his mother's companion. She was also a busy body who loved to gossip. Mrs. Harrington’s daughter Miss Felicity acted as friend and chaperone to his sister, and they were often in each other's pocket. So whatever Perdie was about, he was perfectly sure that Miss Felicity knew it.
"Your daughter was not missing. She claimed to have been in Hyde Park with Miss Felicity."
His mother arched an elegant brow. "I've been down Rotten Row and around the Serpentine at least three times catching up on the lateston ditwith Lady Ambury and Lady Landish. I did not see Perdie."
"I know she was not there."
The implications behind his words robbed the breath from his mother, and she slowly sat in the well-padded armchair by the low burning fire. "Perdie lied about her whereabouts?"
"Yes."
His mother’s hand fluttered to her chest. "Are you certain, Sebastian?"
"Yes."
"I do not believe it."
"Your daughter left under the guise of going to the park, but she was somewhere else entirely."
A touch of alarm entered his mother's bright blue eyes. "Why would Perdie act in such a careless manner? And how did you come to know of it?"
"Lord Owen called earlier. They had arranged to ride in his new barouche," Sebastian said, walking over to an armchair and sitting down. Quickly he relayed the tale of his sister's fiancé heading to the park and returning to their townhouse flustered and flummoxed.
"How dare he harbor such suspicions about Perdie," the duchess snapped. "They have been betrothed for two years, and their wedding is only three months away. What nonsense is he thinking about losing her affection to another? Who else might he say such nonsense to?"
"That is why I took it upon myself to sternly question the coachman as to where he has been taking Perdie." Sebastian shook his head, almost amused at her daring. "For the last few weeks, she has been visiting a particular townhouse in Berkeley Square. Thankfully, Miss Felicity always accompanies her, but Perdie bribed the coachman to keep his silence whenever she takes the carriage. And as the servants are fond of her, he was persuaded to go along with her request. He was very reluctant to reveal the information, but I reminded him who pays his wages."
Sebastian felt a rush of sympathy for his mother, whose face had paled alarmingly.
"I beg your pardon?" The duchess's voice was a mere whisper, and in her eyes, he spied fright and outrage. "My daughter would not act in any salacious manner to ruin this family's good name and reputation."
An edgy restlessness bit at Sebastian's bones. "We do not know whose house it is," he gently reminded her, though Sebastian himself did not believe it to be innocent. If it were above scrutiny, there would have been no need for his sister to lie about her whereabouts or to bribe their coachman to secrecy for the last few weeks. He had given her every opportunity to tell the truth.
"Does it matter whose townhouse it is? Surely it cannot be something good or respectable. Dear Lord in heaven, what was she thinking?"
Sebastian was familiar with the less than civilized workings of the male mind, yet as for a lady's thoughts, he believed navigating a battlefield littered with traps might be easier. He didn't know his sister's thoughts or what she might be going through at this very moment, and that frightened Sebastian immensely. And he was not a man easily rattled. He was a duke and had been so from the tender age of sixteen. He had been more than Perdie's brother; he had become practically her father and confidant. However, Sebastian could sense her pulling from him, and the helpless feelings worming through his heart could not be tolerated.
In his mother's eyes, he spotted a similar fear. And the promise to fix everything rose unswerving inside him. His duty was always to his family, one he had accepted with pride, love, and honor. "You need not worry, madam; I will get to the heart of this matter concerning Perdie."
His mother shook her head a bit dazedly. "Where is she now? I will demand an explanation."
"I do not want her to be aware of our knowledge."
His mother stood. "You still think of her sensibilities when you should—"
"Mother, I cannot guess at Perdie's thinking at the moment. I do not dare confront her because I must know who is at that townhouse and what we need to prepare for. Perdie can be very obstinate. I do not want her to warn the bounder, allowing him to run."