Page 44 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
“What of it, then?” he asked.
“Does it not sound familiar?”
“A little I sup—” He staggered in his speech. “Madeline’s letter?”
She produced it from her pocket and handed it to him. He scanned down to the last line.
Please do not tarry. Patience is a virtue that is apt to be fatigued by exercise!
He shook his head in disbelief.
“Do you see?” said Emily. “This note was not written by our Madeline. To quote from a book she has never read? ’Tis a clever forgery and nothing more!”
A strange laugh rose in his throat. She joined him in it.
“I hardly think this is a time for laughter,” said Lisbelle, “M’Lord, M’Lady, if I may.”
“You may,” said Oliver. “It is the laughter of relief and hope. We now have an edge on Madeline’s captors, however narrow.”
“I suppose I understand,” said Lisbelle. “I still don’t see cause for mirth.”
“The point is I am going to resume my search.”
Lady Emily let out a cry of joy and threw herself into his arms. The action shocked him to the core.
“Thank you, Lord Oliver, thank you!” She pulled away from him quickly. “Oh dear ...” She looked over at Lisbelle, whose eyes widened on her crimson face.
“That’ll be quite enough of that,” said Lisbelle. “What will His Lordship think?”
“I lost my head, Lord Oliver, forgive me.”
“I meant your father, M’Lady,” Lisbelle said sternly.
“Oh, you won’t tell him.”
“You’re right about that,” Lisbelle said, sounding disappointed. “For what kind of chaperone would I be were I to let My Lady scandalize herself in my presence?”
Emily put the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle.
Lord Oliver cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve a great many things to accomplish this day.”
“I bid you farewell, Lord Oliver,” said Emily.
Lisbelle curtseyed. “M’Lord.”
“Goodbye to you both. Reese will see you out. Oh, dear, I’ve given the old boy the day off. Allow me.”
“’Tis not necessary in the least, Lord Oliver,” said Emily. “We shall find our way or die trying. Good day.”
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Excitement nearly overwhelmed him as he made his way back to his office. Thoughts swirled in his brain as if lost in an eddy.
“Think, Oliver, think,” he said, tapping his forehead.
No thoughts were to come, however, as the sound of Lisbelle’s screaming suddenly arose from outside.
“Dear God, M’Lady, look out!”
