Duke frowned when her voice caught. “Lil?”
“She’s probably in the house somewhere.” She waved a hand about vaguely. “Is that my mother calling me?” She put a hand to her ear in an exaggerated pose of listening intently. “Yes, I do believe it is. Must dash.”
“But—”
Before he could utter another word, she dashed toward the back of the hall and through the rear door. Duke could follow but as much as he wanted to believe he was almost healed, he still couldn’t move that fast. The blasted woman would be long gone.
Something was up, though. Violet usually checked on him in the morning and he’d yet to see herandhe swore he heard carriage wheels crunching over the gravel this morning.
He glanced about the hallway and headed toward the sound of a softly hummed tune as he bit back a grunt of pain lest someone else hear it and demand he return to bed. Someone had to know where Violet was.
Laid out upon a chaise with her black and white cat upon her chest, Violet’s aunt waved her foot to a tune Duke could not make out. Her eyes were closed and only the cat noticed Duke’s presence, one eye opening briefly before shutting firmly as though dismissing him in an instant.
Duke cleared his throat and Mrs. Knighton rose so abruptly the cat leaped off her and dashed out of the door.
“Blast it all.” She scowled and inspected the shawl about her shoulders. “You’re in big trouble if you have ruined this silk, Simon,” she called after the cat. The older woman smiled and patted the purple turban that matched her shawl. “Forgive me. Simon does not have the best of manners.”
“I didn’t mean to startle him.”
“You look a little lost, Marmaduke. What can I do for you?”
He hesitated and he had no idea why. Maybe it was because he wasn’t in his own home or perhaps the injuries had him feeling out of sorts. Either way, something odd was happening to him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d hesitated over anything—unless, of course, one counted thinking about kissing Violet which he absolutely should hesitate over.
“Have you, um, seen Violet this morning?”
Violet’s aunt gave a slow smile. “What do you need her for?”
Duke inhaled deeply. Would no one here give him a direct answer? The deep, tangling sensation in his gut tightened and he took a step toward the chaise. “Mrs. Knighton, do you know where Violet is?”
“Call me Aunt Sarah, everyone does.”
“Aunt Sarah,” he said. “Where is Violet?”
“Well, I’m not certain I should say.”
With a grunt, Duke crouched so that he was in line with her and fixed her with his most charming smile. Who knew if it still worked but he hoped it did as it hurt like the devil to do it.
“Darling Aunt Sarah, please will you tell me where Violet is. I would be most indebted to you.”
Throwing her head back, Aunt Sarah released a loud laugh. She patted his knee and motioned for him to stand. “I’m not about to make you beg, young man, but I do appreciate a little charm every now and then.”
He rose, teeth gritted when his ribs spasmed in pain. “So you know where she is?”
“Not exactly. She’s out somewhere with Ivy. No doubt they shall return before long.”
“Out somewhere?”
“I think they said something about going to the country.” Aunt Sarah shrugged, swiveled, and propped her feet back up on the chaise. “I’m sure they’ll be back before supper.” She closed her eyes and laced her hands over her chest.
“And did she say why they were going to the country?”
One eye cracked open and an odd smile came across her lips. “Oh, for some sort of investigation I think.” She opened both eyes fully and met his gaze. “Nothing foryouto worry about, I am sure.”
Damn it. He should have bloody well known. He bit back uttering any curses aloud and rotated on his heel, ignoring the pang of protest his body gave. He marched back into the hallway and snared the attention of a footman.
“Have a carriage made ready,” Duke demanded. “Straight away.”
“Um, sir…?”