Page 91 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
The housekeeper was also concerned, although she tried to hide it. She had come to his study to enquire about an account at a new butcher, and Nash had asked her if she had heard any news about Isabella. Mrs Black had admitted to not knowing anything and spoke harshly about Isabella’s absence, but Nash had seen the fear in her eyes.
She, too, understood this behaviour was not typical for the young woman. Nash hadn’t even been aware that Isabella had friends outside the estate, but that was foolish of him. Isabella was a popular woman and quickly endeared anyone to her with little effort.
Perhaps one of the people she had met during her trips into town had become a good friend, and she was visiting them. It still didn’t excuse her leaving the household without prior warning, but at least she was safe.
For just a moment, Nash had considered that something had happened to Isabella. The incident with Michael Myers and his friends had entered his mind, but Lord Kinsey had assured him that his son would never bother another woman again, and so far, that word had been kept.
Still, Nash had considered writing a note to Lord Kinsey but set it aside when a nervous-looking Kitty came into his study.
“Your Grace,” she said, curtsying.
“What brings you here, Kitty? You look worried.”
“I am worried, Your Grace. Perhaps worried is too light a word. I think I am more petrified.”
Alarmed, Nash sat up straighter. “What is it?”
“May I sit down?”
Nash nodded, frowning as the woman twisted her fingers. She was afraid, but why?
“Tell me what has happened,” Nash insisted.
“Oh, Your Grace, I am deathly afraid of what has become of our Isabella. She should have been home already from her meeting, but she has not returned. I think something might have happened to her.”
A painful tug started on the top of his head and travelled down his spine, bringing about an involuntary shiver.
“What do you mean by a meeting?” he asked.
Kitty looked down. “It was supposed to be a secret, Your Grace. Isabella was told not to tell anyone, but she still confided in me.” The woman looked up at that point. “We tell each other everything, you see.”
Nash did not like the sound of this secret meeting. “Who told her not to tell anyone?”
Kitty looked down again and mumbled something. Nash had to lean in closer to catch the person’s name.
“Lady Stratford,” the woman whispered.
“My sister?” Nash asked. “What does my sister have to do with any of this?”
“She organised the meeting, Your Grace. She has also been helping Isabella find out about her past, and she informed Isabella of a gentleman who wished to see her. Poor Isabella was so excited that she just had to tell me. She even showed me the directions she was given.”
What did his sister have to do with Isabella’s absence, and why had she not mentioned any of this when he had spoken to her earlier this afternoon?
“What directions were they?”
Kitty explained that Isabella had to go to the baker’s shop and move on from there. Ellie had claimed the destination was a tea shop, but Mrs Beeton’s tea shop was on the other side of town.
If Nash remembered correctly, those directions led to a secluded spot behind the clock shop. It made no sense why his sister would direct Isabella to such a place.
“Are you certain my sister gave those directions?”
Kitty nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. Isabella showed me the very paper on which Lady Stratford wrote down the directions.”
Something was terribly wrong. Nash didn’t bother saying another word as he left his study and went in search of his sister. She had returned to the parlour after he left several hours ago and sent a message to him about joining her for tea.
Nash had declined the offer and stayed in his study worrying about Isabella despite telling himself that he believed his sister’s explanation.
“Ellie!” he shouted, entering the parlour. “You have explaining to do.”
