Page 46 of His Perfect Bride
“I’m sorry, sir.” Gustave shook his head. “I wish I did. But I’m baffled, that I am.”
As Jackson ascended the stairs, his feet dragged. His heart was already heavy from his thoughts regarding Sage. Now with Augusta’s kidnapping, his chest felt flat, as if his heart had fallen and been trampled.
If only he could find a way to ease the tension with Sage and go back to their previous friendship.
He sighed. After kissing her the way he had, he doubted he’d ever be able to return to thinking about her as just a friend—not that he ever really had considered herjust a friend. He’d already been hopelessly enamored with her, and now he was even more so.
Yet after Caleb’s rebuke in the barn, he’d known he couldn’t pursue Sage. He’d had a restless, sleepless night, analyzing the possibility of having a relationship with her. Every equation added up to the same answer—he was no good for her. His personality was odd and unstable at times. He got too wrapped up in his projects. As a result, he invariably ended up hurting people.
He had only to review his relationship with Meredith to confirm that truth. From the start, he hadn’t been the kind of man she wanted. He’d tried to accommodate her by taming some of his eccentricities. Ultimately, however, he hadn’t been able to change enough about himself to satisfy her, just like he’d never been able to satisfy his father.
After the bridge accident, he was even more broken. Even if he was starting to emerge from the cave that he’d crawled into, he still felt like a monster. Guilt and fear and insecurity from all that had happened shackled him. And maybe those emotions would always be his burden to bear.
As much as Sage had brought light and hope into his dark world, she deserved a much better man than him, someone wholesome and solid, not one who could easily revert back to a beast at any moment.
He’d told himself over and over all last night and all morning that he had to let her go, that he would be selfish to hold on to her. He’d tried to convince himself they couldn’t have a life together, that they wanted different things, that they were from two different worlds. He’d even tried to persuade himself she’d be better off as a lady’s maid and as a spinster. She’d be happy enough, and Augusta would be good to her.
But whenever he looked at Sage, all his excuses kept collapsing like a bridge held up with rope instead of iron rods. The truth was, he was still obsessed with her, and after kissing her he was even more so.
She’d suggested they forget the kiss had ever happened. But that kiss was welded into his heart permanently. It was now a part of him.
As he reached Augusta’s chamber, the door stood wide, revealing a room in complete disarray. Sage was searching frantically through every item, picking things up and then dropping them. Clothes were strewn over the bed and floor, the bed was unmade, the stool at the dressing table was tipped over, and the dresser drawers were pulled out with items hanging from them haphazardly.
Augusta was normally a tidy and responsible person. She never would have left her room in such a state of disorder. Had the kidnapper rummaged through everything, looking for something that Augusta had that was valuable? “Do you know if Augusta was traveling with anything that was rare or costly?”
Sage paused in throwing back the covers on the bed, as if that would somehow reveal what had happened to Augusta. Her face was flushed from her efforts and her eyes wild. “She brought some of her jewelry on the voyage here, and most of it is still on her dressing table.” Sage nodded toward the elegant table where items were strewn. “So the kidnapper wasn’t interested in the thievery.”
“It would appear that way.”
Sage pressed her pretty lips together—pretty lips that had meshed with his so perfectly and so passionately, pretty lips that he loved seeing curled up into a smile, pretty lips that could also tell him hard truths he needed to hear.
He gave himself a shake. He couldn’t let himself start thinking about her lips. Not now, not when Augusta was in trouble and needed their help. He had to focus on rescuing her.
Sage righted the stool. “It doesn’t look like anything was destroyed.”
“I concur. It simply looks messy.”
“Like Augusta was in a hurry.”
“Perhaps.”
“But in a hurry for what?” Sage crossed to the armoire and rummaged through it. “Was she going somewhere? Did she take anything with her?”
He liked the logical way Sage’s mind worked. It was almost as if she was solving the mystery around Augusta’s kidnapping the same way she’d organized his study.
Sage moved to the bed again, knelt, and dragged out several pieces of luggage. She studied them then paused. “Her red floral-print carpetbag is gone.”
“You’re certain of it?”
“I think so.” She stood and once again searched the room. After a minute of retracing her steps through the mess, she halted. “It’s not here, which means she must have taken it with her.”
“In addition to the carpetbag, are you able to deduce if anything else is missing?”
Sage studied the dressing table, then the dresser, before shifting to look at the contents of the armoire. “Her lavender and rose gowns are gone, her nightgown, some of her personal hygiene items, at least one handkerchief, and her extra pair of gloves.”
“The items sound ordinary and necessary.”
“Her kidnapper clearly gave her leave to pack what she needed. We can be grateful for that.”
