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Patricia felt her face flush. Now she knew why both gentlemen were so reluctant to speak of it with her. Because there was only one way a woman would be doing business in that gentleman’s club and she was not so naïve not to realize it. The woman was obviously a harlot trying to procure business from her husband.
She stared out the carriage window, blinking back hurt tears. She supposed she should be glad to hear he had brushed the courtesan aside at least. That he hadn’t stumbled off into the night with her. That would have been so much harder to bear.
“What do we do now?” she asked slowly, as soon as she felt under control again. “Where could he have gone?”
Lord Reynolds frowned, tapping his fingers on the side of the carriage. “I say that Lord Reading and I go for a wander down Bond Street and see what we can find. There may be people who saw him and can tell us what direction he went.” He sighed heavily. “It is worth a shot.”
“Indeed it is,” said Lord Reading, already opening the door to the carriage. “Let us not tarry, Nathan.”
They both got out and walked slowly down the street. Patricia peered after them. They were already approaching the harlot that she had just witnessed trying to procure business. The woman smiled seductively at them, obviously thinking she was getting some paying customers.
With a sigh, she sat back in the seat. A cold shiver ran through her. This was not going to be easy at all. London was a big city, and Jackson could be anywhere within it. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. God help them.
* * *
Jackson hovered somewhere between sleep and consciousness. He knew that he was sick; he could feel the headache slamming like a hammer in his head. Desperately, he tried to sit up again, but it was no use. He tried to flex his hands and discovered the awful truth, something he should have realized before but hadn’t.
He was tied up. Rough rope secured his hands.
He groaned, blinking rapidly. He was so desperate for water he felt like he could drink an entire lake. He blinked again. There was a figure standing right in front of him. It had seemingly materialized out of the blue.
“Hello?” he croaked. “Can you help me? Why am I here?”
He blinked, trying to make it out. It was in half shadow, but he suddenly realized it was the figure of a woman. A woman with golden hair surrounding her head like a halo. She smiled slowly, then beckoned him with one hand.
His heart crashed to the floor. It was Patricia. He was sure of it.
“Is it you?” he whispered, as beads of sweat dripped down his neck. “How can it be?”
She didn’t answer. She simply beckoned him again, as if she wanted him to rise to his feet and follow her. He squinted blearily. She was fading in and out of his vision. Was she real, or a product of his fevered mind?
“Why?” he whispered in anguish. “Why did you do it to me? I loved you…”
The figure stilled. She simply gazed at him, her eyes wide with sorrow. And then she drifted towards him as if she was hovering through the air. As if she was travelling on wings and her feet did not touch the ground at all.
His eyes widened, watching her. His heart flipped over in his chest. He couldn’t help it. No matter what she had done to him, he still loved her.
She reached out a hand and touched his forehead. Her hand felt cool, like a healing balm. He gazed up at her and his heart pounding. He couldn’t quite see her face; it was still in shadow. She didn’t say a word.
“Please,” he whispered. “What is happening?”
She didn’t answer. She just kept stroking his forehead. He closed his eyes, relishing the touch. If he could just stay in this moment forever, he would be happy.
But then the touch abruptly withdrew. He opened his eyes. She was drifting away from him, falling backwards through the air. Desperately, he reached out a hand imploring her to come back.
She was gone, as quickly as she had appeared.
He blinked again, greatly confused. Had she ever been here?
“Patricia,” he entreated, his voice only a whisper. “Come back to me…please…”
But there was no answer. She was gone. His heart felt as cold as ice.
For he realized that she had never been there at all. And yet she had seemed so real. He had conjured her out of the fever of his mind.
And he was still tied up in this empty, decrepit room.
“Help!” he screamed suddenly. “Help!”
