He wasn’t certain if she was upset that she hadn’t thought of going to Blackstone first, and he didn’t like the familiar way she used Blackstone’s first name. Was that... jealousy?
He scoffed inwardly at himself. He’d always thought jealousy a wasted emotion and couldn’t believe he’d be so foolish as to feel it now. Even though she had kissed him so passionately earlier in the day, she had been born to be the wife of someone like Blackstone, not the mistress of someone like Sebastian. Irritated at himself, he tried to get his mind off the kiss they’d shared and focus on the matter at hand.
“In any event, I’m certain we’ll get to the bottom of this soon.” One way or another. Though he didn’t say it, the words hung heavily between them. He’d been so certain in the beginning that her sister would drift in sometime during the day with some sort of story about where she’d been and what she’d been doing. The fact that she hadn’t, that nightfall was upon them once again, seemed to be a harbinger of bad news.
Jocelyn obviously felt it, too. She sat so rigidly it seemed that she was ready to snap in half. Her obvious need of comfort, and the thought that for once in his life he might be able to provide it, struck him to the core.
Damning propriety, he swung over to the forward-facing seat beside her, putting his arm around her and drawing her against him. She went even more rigid for a moment, but then sagged against his side, pressing her face against his chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his tweed coat. “I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m so afraid that something has happened to her.”
“I know.” He stroked his hand lightly across her silken hair, marveling at how the setting sun highlighted strands of fire amid the varied strands of brown. She seemed so small and fragile in his arms, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. For such a little thing, she had a will of iron.
“Do you think someone there will be able to help us?” she asked.
“I hope so,” he answered. “If these women are good friends of hers, they might know something. Maybe she told one of them where she was going. It can’t hurt to ask.”
She snuggled a little more fully against him, and the passion that had flared between them earlier was there again, simmering under the surface. For a long while, he simply held her as the hack bounced along the increasingly potholed streets. To his surprise, he found that he was getting comfort from their embrace as well. It had been so long since anyone needed him this way.
For the first time in a long time, his thoughts drifted to his wife, who’d died nearly a decade ago. Hell, he wasn’t certain if Marina had ever needed him this way. His wife had been lovely and spoiled, the only daughter of a wealthy businessman. She’d liked the idea of being married to a soldier and had loved him in his bright red uniform. They’d had a whirlwind romance that had ended with their marriage and a few passionate nights where he’d begun to suspect that she’d not been a virgin. However, the moment he’d shipped out, her attention had fallen elsewhere. She hadn’t been made to be a soldier’s wife, waiting patiently alone for months at a time. She needed to constantly be the center of attention, and when he hadn’t been there to give that to her, she’d found someone who could.
“My husband never held me or offered me comfort,” she said softly, surprising him with her candor. “He had little use for me once he’d secured my dowry and gotten me with child. There are times when I’ve felt sorry for Evelyn, knowing she’ll never have children or a husband of her own, but then I remember what it was like to be married to the earl and know that perhaps she is the lucky one.”
“I’m sorry your marriage was like that,” he replied, squeezing her shoulders gently in a one-armed hug. “You deserved more than that.”
She laughed breathlessly. “I didn’t really think that there was more. I thought all marriages were like mine. But now that I see Allison with her inspector and have gotten to know her brothers’ wives, I’m starting to think that perhaps some people do manage to find peace and comfort together.”
He thought about telling her of his own marriage, the hopes he’d had going in, the soul-crushing disappointment when he’d found out Marina had run off with someone else while he’d been out of the country, but now did not seem the time.
Before he could think of anything to say, she gave a self-conscious laugh and eased a bit away. “Listen to me. A man gives me the slightest kindness, and I’m waxing poetic about marriage after I completely denounced it the first time we met. You must think me a fool.”
“It’s perfectly fine to change your mind about things when presented with a different view of them. But I don’t think marriage was what you were denouncing that day. It was love,” he reminded her, very aware that the two were entirely different things.
She shrugged prettily. “Well, I have no experience with love at all.”
Silence fell between them once again, but this time, she reached out to him, twining her fingers with his and holding his hand tightly. Her hands were slim and lovely, encased in silken white gloves, a stark contrast to his large, calloused, bare paws.
It seemed a travesty to him that no man had ever loved this smart, beautiful woman. She was definitely worthy of such emotion, though he stood by his previous statement that what people called love was most likely a mix of lust and loneliness. He’d thought he’d loved Marina, but in the end, after her betrayal, it had been fairly easy to walk away. His supposed love had turned into bitterness and disdain, and he’d never entered into such emotions with any of the lovers he’d had since.
He stole another glance at the woman beside him, the long line of her graceful throat, and something clenched deep inside him. Not love... certainly not that. But... something. Attraction, definitely. And he actually liked her. She was easy to talk to, and he’d found that, for him at least, women rarely were. But it was more than that. From the first time he’d sat down next to her at that wedding breakfast, there’d been some sort of connection between them, a recognition that somewhere deep inside, they were the same.
Did she feel it, too? As his gaze fell once again on their clasped hands, it certainly felt as though she might.
But he wasn’t an idiot. They’d been thrown together by extraordinary circumstances, and once the matter of her sister was resolved, she’d have no need for a lowly police inspector.
Before his thoughts could go any farther down that path, the hack pulled up in front of a nondescript row of brick storefronts. Number 217 bore a sign out front that read Rose’s Apothecary.
“This must be it,” Jocelyn said, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
A lot seemed to be riding on the next few minutes as far as her sister’s fate was concerned. They might go inside and find Evelyn was simply a bad sister, that she’d gotten caught up in her own life and hadn’t realized that Jocelyn was worried. Then again, they might find out that none of these women who probably knew Evelyn well had any idea where she was, which would put them back to square one. Worse, it would make it even more likely that something terrible had happened to the young woman in question.
He squeezed her hand tightly, meeting her gaze. “No matter what they say, we won’t give up, all right? We will find her.”
She gave him a poor attempt at a smile. “Thank you. For everything. I know you didn’t have to do any of this. I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t know how I would have survived today without you.”
“You’re stronger than you think you are,” he told her softly, hoping that she’d never have to truly find out. He forced a smile “All right, then. Let’s go to our first women’s suffrage meeting.”