Page 106 of A Duchess to Fight For
“May I sign a letter absolving you of your part in furnishing me with the information I seek?”
Percy saw the bank manager physically relax at the suggestion.
“A parchment if you please.”
He allowed the bank manager to read the document, satisfied he was absolved of any sin associated with telling Percy Frederick’s whereabouts.
“Thank you, Your Grace. His Grace is at the First London Insurance Partnership.”
“Ah, I should have known. You are to be commended for your discretion. I thank you.”
Percy turned and left the bank. It was a short distance to FLIP, and Percy made it in record time.
He opened the door to the establishment and immediately began looking into the private rooms of business through the glass on each door.
“May I help you?” a man charged with directing patrons said.
“Yes. I’m searching for Frederick Haddington, Duke of Rutland. My name is Percy Pemberton, Duke of Gordon. Is he here?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I will tell him you are here.”
Percy breathed out. He was sure it was the first breath he took since seeing Louisa when he walked in for tea.
“Percy. Is something wrong?”
“Frederick. It’s Louisa. I have sent for my doctor. She is not well.”
Frederick lifted his arm. The men in charge with directing patrons came.
“Let my colleagues know I was called home on a family emergency.”
He bowed, “Your Grace.”
On the way back to Frederick’s townhouse, he turned to Percy and said, “Tell me what you know.”
“She has a bad cough, and her pallor is grey. I don’t want to worry you, but I must. I think she has pneumonia.”
*****
Mendon entered the parlour, watching Percy pace. He didn’t notice Mendon; he was so wrapped up in his thoughts.
“Your Grace,” Mendon said.
Percy stopped and turned. “Have you heard something?” he said, walking to Mendon in three strides.
“No, Your Grace, I was wondering if you would like coffee or whisky. I took the liberty of having a tray of food sent out.”
“Thank you, Mendon. Whisky sounds perfect.”
Mendon bowed then left the parlour. He was back quickly with a decanter and two glasses. “In case His Grace comes down and joins you.”
Percy nodded as Mendon poured and handed the glass to him.
“Call on me if I can be of any assistance, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mendon.”
An hour later, Frederick and the doctor walked heavily down the stairs.
