Page 101 of Not his Marchioness
“Gone? Where has she gone?”
“I am uncertain, My Lord,” he replied. “She came here and was rather upset. She and Lady Woodhaven?—”
“Lady Woodhaven?” Rhys cut in. “What does Lady Woodhaven have to do with all of this?”
“Lady Woodhaven and Her Ladyship arrived at the same time. I believe Lady Woodhaven came to deliver a belated Christmas gift. In any case, the two of them conversed for some time, and then Lady Woodhaven left. Shortly after, Lady Ravenscar left as well.”
Rhys ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots. “No, no, no…” He turned back to the butler. “Tell me, where was she? You said she returned. Returned from where?”
“I am uncertain,” the butler said, though he looked uncomfortable.
Rhys placed his hands on the man’s shoulders. “Tell me the truth.”
“I do not know, My Lord, but the coachman mentioned that they had a rather peculiar night.”
Rhys nodded, and then, without another word, dashed outside to find the coachman.
The man was sitting on an overturned box, smoking. When he saw his master, he got up and muttered under his breath, “Not again…”
Rhys paused for a moment, wondering what that meant, but then pushed the thought aside. “I am aware that you took my wife somewhere this evening. You must tell me where you took her.”
“She swore me to secrecy,” the coachman hedged, stomping one foot on the ground.
“I appreciate your loyalty to my wife,” Rhys said curtly. “However, I would like to remind you that it is I who pays your salary. Now, where did you take her? Did you take her to St. Giles?”
The coachman bit his lower lip and nodded.
“Where exactly did you take her?”
He shuffled one foot in the mud. “She asked me to follow your carriage. We took the cart.”
Rhys froze. He had noticed a cart trailing them from a distance, but he had assumed it was a coincidence. After all, how was he supposed to suspect that his wife was traveling in a cart meant for servants?
“And you followed me to my destination?” he demanded.
The coachman nodded. “Yes. We stopped for a few minutes, and then she wanted me to drive her back here. She was rather upset.”
“Upset how?” Rhys asked, unsure what answer he wanted to hear.
“Well, she cried.”
The words hit him harder than he had expected.
He did not want Charlotte to cry. He did not want her to be upset. At the same time, it told him that she cared. Though that was foolish, for he had already known she cared.
But now she was gone. She had seen him speaking to Lizzie. She had seen him going to the one place he had promised her he had not gone.
“Emery has done this,” he muttered. “Do you know where she went this evening?”
The coachman shook his head. “I took her to Hyde Park Corner. She wished to hire a coach, No doubt so I would not know where she was going. Of course, Her Ladyship did not know how to hire a coach, so I assisted her and asked the driver for the destination, just in case.”
“Which is?”
“Brighton, My Lord.”
Brighton? What is she going to do in Brighton? She does not know anyone there, does she?
Rhys nodded. “How long ago?”
