Page 77 of Her Bear of a Duke

Morgan did not know what happened to his wife, but he intended to find out.

She had vanished into the night, without even leaving him a note. None of the staff seemed to know where she was, with the exception of Mrs. Herrington who was not giving anything away at all. She had been acting strangely with him since his argument with Dorothy, but no matter how many times he asked why, she did not reveal anything.

"Catherine," he said gently, sitting with her in her room, "I know that yourself and Aunt Dorothy are… well, things have happened, but we have to find her. Do you know where she is?"

Catherine shook her head, but Morgan could tell that she was keeping something from him.

"Catherine, I know that a lot has happened of late, but we can fix it. I love you, and I want our family to be happy. I know that whatDorothy said was unkind to say the least, but we still must know that she is safe. If you know anything at all, you must tell me."

"Well," she said carefully, unable to meet his eye. "Aunt Annabelle told me that she has gone to stay with her family for a while. She said that Aunt Dorothy did not want to see her, and so she is going away for a while."

Morgan wished that were the case, for her family would have undoubtedly sent her back again if it were, but it was more than likely simply a white lie that Lady Annabelle had used to make her not worry so much. Catherine had been in a strange state for the last few days, unable to talk and unwilling to see him. The only person that she wished to spend time with was Lady Annabelle, and already it was beginning to hurt him. He had been the one to take her into his home and care for her, not Lady Annabelle, but he could not remind such a small child of that. It would have been unfair for him to do, even if he truly was furious that it had been that easy for the lady that had once abandoned him.

"All right," he nodded. "Did she leave you anything?"

Catherine shook her head, and Morgan left her room. He knew that, in spite of how little she had given him, he would have to speak once again with his housekeeper. He knew that she was hiding something from him, but she was not letting up. He found her in the parlor room, and closed the door behind him when he entered.

"Mrs. Herrington, I shall only have this conversation with you a final time. Where is she?"

His housekeeper turned to him, furious.

"Even if I knew," she said firmly, "I would not tell you."

"You do not have a choice. You are my housekeeper."

"I am your wife's housekeeper," she corrected, "and because of you, she has vanished. Do you think I enjoy doing all of this work alone? You told me to come to like her company, and I did so. You cannot now ask me to be pleased that she is gone."

"I never once said that. Where on Earth would you get such an idea? I am searching for her."

"Yes, and you never would have had to had you not been so cruel."

He looked at her, taken aback.

"I heard you," she explained. "I heard the way you spoke to her, and how you accused her of things that you and I both know she would never do. You married a good lady, one that would not say such despicable things, especially in front of a child."

"Catherine is not a little girl that lies."

"Catherine is a little girl that does not want to lose anyone else. She is already without a mother, and now she is without her aunt."

"She has Lady Annabelle."

"Your Grace," she gasped, "can you hear yourself? This is the very same lady that slandered you, and you are believing her over your wife. What has compelled you to do this?"

Morgan hesitated, not knowing how to respond. He was aware that his actions had been odd, but that was because his own situation had been so bizarre. What other man in England had such a predicament, after all?

"If you want to find her," she said firmly, "go and ask your houseguest. I do not know where your wife is, but without her I am far too busy to help you see that you have been fooled."

Morgan hated how disrespectful she was being, but he did not have any anger left in him. In truth, without Dorothy he felt as though part of him was missing and he wanted her to come home. He had never wanted her to leave in the first place, but by doing what he had done he knew that he had given her no other choice.

He did not want to talk to Lady Annabelle. He had no interest in seeing her again until she left, but she had made a habit of bringing him things. He would hide in his study, and she would arrive with tea. He would hide in the glasshouse and she would bring him a book. He did not want anything from her, by thatpoint, other than a swift departure, but he knew she would not do that of her own accord, and with Dorothy missing, he did not want Catherine to lose both of her aunts because of him.

He remained in the parlor room and, as expected, Lady Annabelle soon appeared holding something for him.

"I am not in the mood for this," he protested, but she did not listen.

"You will want to read this," she said, pressing a letter into his hand. "I found it in Catherine's room the night your wife left. I have been waiting for the right time, but I can see now that there will not be one. I do not know why she had given it to her, but I believe it is because she could not say it to you."

He opened the paper, and read it quickly.

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