Page 80 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
Brock stirred. “A ransom?”
Rayne shrugged. “Or to gloat. Either way, he’s a dead man.”
***
“I consider it an honor that you have sought out my assistance, Devona,” Oz Lockwood confessed beside her as they traveled by coach. They had left London hours earlier, and were heading south to an undisclosed village. “I am rather interested to see your husband’s response to your latest adventure. As Lady Tipton your behavior must bear up under the scrutiny of theton.”
Devona’s teeth set at the mention of the resulting gossip and potential scandal of her actions. If the contents of the letter were true, then her jaunt into the country escorted by Oz would only be the spark to the comparable powder keg of deception.
Regardless, she did not feel comfortable enough to voice her fears to Oz. “Lord Tipton has been quite indulgent. Besides, the only people who know of this are you and I.” She gave him an inquiring look. “I assume I can trust you to maintain your own counsel?”
“Naturally, my dear. Neither Tipton nor anyone else is aware of your intentions?” He sounded incredulous.
“No,” she forlornly murmured, turning toward the window to watch the passing landscape. There had not been much planning involved. Too stunned by the news she had received, Devona had simply walked out the front door. She had walked the streets with no thought of direction or funds to pay her way. It was fortunate she had stumbled into Oz before her inattentiveness had put her under the wheels of a racing carriage.
“Can you talk about it?”
Devona did not pretend to misunderstand. “Not now. Soon.” It was a lie. She had promised herself that she would not say the words aloud until she could do so without tears. A lifetime from this moment was too soon. Every time she thought of Tipton’s treachery, her heart broke.
***
“Sitting around like a bunch of old women will not find my gel!” Sir Thomas blustered to the somber group.
“Papa, Brock and Tipton have been searching the streets for hours,” Wynne said, defending the men. “The night brings its own dangers.”
Her father pounded his hand on the table. “And my gel is out there.”
He only stated the obvious, but Wynne understood. The helplessness of the situation was wearing on everyone’s nerves. Tipton sat in the corner, looking haunted. Both the men had searched all the possible places Devona might have gone; then they moved on to the improbable. Neither garnered even a clue to her whereabouts. It was as if she had vanished. “You should eat,” Wynne told Tipton. His plate had remained untouched for half an hour.
The grief she witnessed in his expression tore at her heart.
“I cannot. Thomas is correct. I should go back out there. Devona is probably frightened that I have not found her. She could be hurt.” Misery was a lump in his throat, which he could not swallow. “I will only go insane if I remain.”
Grim-faced, Brock shoveled his food into his mouth like an automaton. “Eat. You’ll be of no use if you don’t have the strength to help search for her.” He glanced at his father. “There must be twenty men out there searching for a trace of her. If there is a clue to her whereabouts, we’ll find it.”
Wynne nodded encouragingly when Tipton took a bite of his stew and washed it down with some ale. “I took a tray to your guest. Dr. Sir Wallace Brogden has a forthright manner of speaking to a lady. I was torn between laughing and slapping his face.”
“It won’t work, Wynne.”
She tried to look innocent. “What am I doing?”
Tipton, not looking as pale as he had minutes before, stared at her from over the rim of his tankard. “Distracting me,” he succinctly replied. “Everything and everyone can burn brightly in hell for all I care.”
If anyone knew of hell, she figured Tipton would be the one.
***
Devona and Oz secured rooms at the inn. It was a sensible action. They needed a place to sleep and a meal, Oz had reminded her. The thought of food sickened her. This was just another delay that left her nerves pricking her arms like a needle making loose stitches in a piece of cotton.
“You picked at your meal, dear,” Oz admonished. “You aren’t becoming ill. Shall we seek out a doctor?”
Devona flinched at the suggestion. “I am just tired, that is all. I think I shall retire.”
Oz immediately arose, good manners and concern showing. “Have we reached our destination? I’m all for intrigue, but don’t you think it is time to tell me why we have raced across the countryside? You have to admit that I have been a patient and faithful conspirator.”
She owed Oz an explanation, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Besides, she was regretting her hasty decision to bring him along; however, there had been little choice in the matter. He had rented the equipage, paid for the rooms and their meal. Yes, she owed it to him to finish the rest of her quest this evening alone.
“Tomorrow. After I have rested.”
