Page 30 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
“Yes, Your Grace,” The boy dropped his burden and rushed inside the stables.
Rushing back to the manor, Moses ignored his wife’s questions, changed into his riding boots, and grabbed a coat. The evenings were changing from balmy to chilly and Moses feared the dress Caroline had was too thin and she would get sick. He also snatched his pistol in the case of an emergency or any other unpleasant situation.
“Moses!” the Duchess snapped. “Answer me, where are you going? And why are you armed?”
“I am arming myself in case I need to save a life, Lavinia,” Moses replied before rushing out.
Back in the stables, the Duke was pleased to see Pegasus saddled and ready to be ridden. “Thank you, Oliver.”
Dusk was falling quickly, and Moses feared it would be night before he got to the town. Spurring the horse on, he felt a crippling fear. The town was large enough that Caroline could have been taken, robbed, or worse—violated.
Pegasus lived up to his namesake and sped down the road effortlessly. The horse rode with the same purpose that Moses felt burning inside him. It was a need, a necessity to find Caroline. He had to get there on time. He had to find her.
While sprinting down the road, Moses could spot the buildings of the town far off even as night was crawling in. Moses sped into the town noting the closing shops, shuttered windows of the townhouses, and the streets that were now deserted.
Where is she?
The stationery shop—Mr. Bucklers! It was the placed that supplied the materials for the children’s lessons and it was where Caroline went to get them. Galloping there, Moses saw a light under the closed door, jumped off the horse, got to the door, and knocked brusquely. “Mr. Bucklers, it is I, Duke of Barely, please open up.”
Swift clicks announced the unlatching of the door and soon enough it was dragged open. The proprietor, Mr. Bucklers’ eyes were alarmed behind his spectacles. “Your Grace? Good evening, how may I assist you?”
“Good evening, Mr. Bucklers,” Moses rushed to the point, “My governess, Miss Robins, was she here?”
“Yes, she was, Your Grace,” the grey-haired man said, with a vigorous nod. “She was but she left about three hours ago. To the seamstress, I believe.”
“Thank you,” Moses nodded and spun to his mount, “Good night to you, sir.”
Spurring off to the seamstress, Moses got another direction to a bookshop. The night was falling swiftly, and he could barely see where he was going as there were no streetlights. While spurring the horse on, Moses swore to correct that issue the very next day.
She was not at the bookshop, either, and Moses was beginning to despair. Had she been taken? God, no! He did not want to even think of it! Though he was hovering on the edge of despair, Moses forced himself to think.
Caroline was a smart woman, she would never put herself in danger. Where could she go with the assurance she would be found? His mind was racing as he spun in the growing darkness.
Where? Where? Where could she go?
The Duke was nearly at his wit's end as he rode through the bourgeoning night with one hand on the reins and the other on his pistol. This was the time when criminals roamed the streets, looking for harmless prey to attack. He passed some men, clearly ne’er-do-wells, who were skulking down alleyways and lingering against broken fences and felt his fear for Caroline tighten his throat.
He was trotting past the town square where a sole tavern had its light flickering through shuttered windows and Moses, with one last hope, jumped off the horse and pushed through the door.
“Caroline!” Moses called out, desperate to know she was safe, disregarding decorum.
“Here, Your Grace.” Her sweet voice, calling from the back of the room, destroyed his fear and the moment she stepped out of the shadows, Moses tugged her into his arms, destroying her respectability altogether.
“Thank God!” he sighed in her hair as his anxiety was sliced in half, “Thank God you’re safe.”
He felt her stiffen under his hold but then she relaxed. “I am, thank you.”
It was then Moses realized what he was doing and pulled back. He saw the soft flush on her face, her throat was working softly as her head twisted to the side, and knew he was making her uncomfortable.
“You there,” Moses said to a boy poking the embers in the fireplace, “Run to the coaching inn and tell them by order of the Duke of Barley to send a carriage and lamps.”
The boy, not much older than ten or eleven, with a splatter of freckles on his face, nodded quickly, “Aye, Your Grace.”
As the boy sped off, he turned back to Caroline and swallowed tightly. Her head was down and her outline was shadowed. Moses could not tear his eyes from her as the dregs of his fear left him. Thank God she was such a smart woman and had stayed safe, or he would have never forgiven himself.
The carriage came up and Moses briefly greeted the driver and dropped a coin into the boy’s hand. Moses helped Caroline into the carriage. His heart pulsed strongly when she grasped his hand and squeezed it quickly before slipping inside.
Moses lingered longer than he should have before turning to his horse. The light from the lamps led him and the carriage back to the mansion. While trotting alongside the carriage, Moses felt anger settle in his stomach like a brick of lead.
