Page 56 of Dare it all for Love

Temple shook his head. “Her grandmother was her last living relative to my knowledge, and she died some weeks ago. As to where she might go, I am afraid I could not say.”

“You wanted to see me, Mr Temple?”

A frightened looking maid whom Henry recognised as being Susan’s friend from that day outside the church appeared at the door, having been escorted by a burly footman.

“Thank you, Stevens,” Temple said, dismissing the footman. “Now, Rachel, don’t look so frightened, the earl and Mr Stanhope just want to ask you some questions.”

This didn’t seem to reassure Rachel in the slightest.

“I don’t know nuthin’,” she said, a sullen look darkening her eyes, twisting her apron around in her fingers.

“Do you know why Miss Knight might have agreed to meet Susan, or where Susan might go if she were in trouble, or wanted to get away?” St Clair asked.

Rachel shook her head, her throat working. “No, but I bet it’s that horrid Joe. I told her he was trouble. I don’t like the way he looks at me, nor her neither.”

“Joe?” Henry said, before Gabriel could open his mouth.

“Joe Foster, sir,” Nancy said. “Him what digs the graves at the church.”

Henry felt his stomach drop as he remembered the gravedigger that same day, the way he had watched the girls as they walked off, the way he had watched Florence, and then turned and looked at Henry.

“Oh, God,” he said. “We need to get to the church. Now.”

Louis César was halfway down the stairs when he saw the men racing out the front door. What the devil was going on? He turned as he reached the bottom of the stairs to find Evie watching them go. Her sweet face was pale and anxious.

“Evie, whatever is the matter?”

“Florence is missing,” she said, her voice choked. “Henry is afraid she may have got mixed up in the business with the c-corn dolls.” She covered her mouth with her hand to smother a sob.

“Chérie!” Louis exclaimed, his heart aching for her. Silently, he guided her back into the parlour before anyone saw her break down.

“Oh, Louis, I’m so frightened.” She flung herself at him, burying her face in his chest and sobbing.

“Er…” For a moment Louis froze, uncertain what to do. He could not be caught alone with her in such a compromising position but… but damn it, the poor child was distraught. Louis put his arms about her, rubbing slow circles on her back. “Voyons, Voyons, ma chérie. Calm yourself. Tell me what has happened?”

Slowly Evie recovered her composure and Louis handed her his handkerchief.

“I’m s-sorry I cried all over your waistcoat,” she said, diffident now, her cheeks pink with embarrassment and her nose red from blowing it with such vigour.

Louis smiled at her. “It’s of no matter, I assure you.” Still, he moved back to the door, opened it so no one could accuse them of impropriety, and gestured for Evie to sit down.

“Tell me,” he said.

Haltingly at first, Evie told him of everything she had learned this morning.

Louis swallowed a curse, wishing he’d known this earlier. “What did the maid look like? Susan, was it?”

“Quite pretty, slender and blonde.”

He nodded. “I believe I saw her.”

Evie sat up straighter, her eyes growing wide. “Where?”

He hesitated, unwilling to tell the truth. “I could not sleep last night so I came down to… find a book,” he improvised, deciding he’d rather not explain that he’d come down to find the brandy. “I must have fallen asleep—it was a dull book—and woke with a headache so I went for a walk to get some air. She was running. I thought at the time she looked rather upset, but she was too far ahead of me to call out to her, and it was none of my affair in any case.”

She stared at him for a moment and then leapt to her feet and grasped hold of his hand.

“Show me,” she demanded.