Page 50 of Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower 2)

“Let me go. You can’t get away with this.”

“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t consider you, it’s true. You’re a bad risk. But my plans have changed.”

“What do you want from me?” Jo asked again. But she feared his answer.

“If you don’t be quiet, you’ll come to regret it.”

Jo shivered and buried her head in her arms as a hot tear seeped onto her cheek. Where was he taking her?

Reade spent several hours with the Prince Regent, placating him after a long diatribe ended with a demand to be told about the investigation. He assured the prince it was advancing steadily. He wasn’t required to go into details, but Prinny’s interest puzzled him. Usually, criminal activity that involved the lower-classes or the poor didn’t capture his attention unless it was a threat to royalty or the government.

Reade arrived home in the late afternoon to change for the evening. He found Black waiting for him. He handed Reade a note. “From Miss Dalrymple, sir.”

A brief missive that gave him no clue as to the reason she wished to see him. He snatched up his hat and rushed out to hail a hackney.

When he and Black reached the Brook Street gate, a woebegone f

igure stood in the rain. He asked the jarvey to wait and ran over to Sally. “Where is your mistress?”

Sally’s pelisse was wet, and her bonnet hung limply around her face. She trembled and struggled to speak.

Reade glanced around with a sense of foreboding. No sign of Joanna. He pulled off his greatcoat and hung it over the girl’s shoulders.

“Miss Jo went off to look for your carriage over an hour ago, my lord. When she didn’t come back, I searched for her. But she’s gone.”

He felt the hair lift off the back of his neck. “Gone? Are you sure?” He spun around. The rain had cleared the park of all but a few determined horse riders. “Why did she want to see me, Sally? Do you know?”

“We had the hackney go back the way I came home on that awful day,” Sally said, tripping over her words. “We found the house where the lady helped me. Miss Hatton said she thought it might be Mrs. Millet’s house because of the camellias and the shutters. Miss Jo thought you should know about it.”

Reade raised his eyebrows. “Who is Mrs. Millet?”

“Mr. Dalrymple hired Mrs. Millet to help Jo with her debut.”

Things slid into place. This Mrs. Millet was Mrs. Virden. Reade eased his tight shoulders. Had Virden learned of Charlotte’s rescue? Was Jo in danger? But he was letting his emotions rule his head. They tailed Virden. His man would contact him, and it better be soon.

As Reade’s hackney took Sally to Upper Brook Street, Black appeared in a curricle. He brought his horse close to intercept them.

Reade jumped down. “Who is following Virden?”

“Goodridge. Said his leg was better.”

“And?” Reade waited, fearing the worst.

“Virden outmaneuvered him. It appears he has conceived a means of escape.”

“Good lord!” Reade yelled. “Can I count on no one? Where did this happen?”

“Goodridge followed him to the park in his coach,” Black said. “Didn’t stay above a few minutes while Goodridge waited outside the park gates.”

“Was he alone? Did he meet anyone?”

“Goodridge didn’t see anyone with him.”

“Go on.” Reade motioned to him.

“Then he drove through Soho. Apparently, there’s a way through a cemetery. Goodridge turned a corner, and he had vanished. Virden either knows he’s followed or is taking no chances.”

“The graveyard could be the one near Mrs. Millet’s house,” Sally said.

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