Page 75 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Anthony stood, stretchinghis arms high above his head. Satisfaction filled him. After several interviews over the past few weeks, he’d finally hired a business manager today. His army days had taught him to trust his gut when evaluating others and the man he’d spoken with today was both knowledgeable and trustworthy. He would report tomorrow morning so Anthony had worked on organizing his desk this afternoon, placing items in different stacks so that things would be prioritized.

He knew it must be close to teatime and glanced out the window. Sure enough, Viscount Brixley pulled up in front of the house in his curricle, his matched bays definitely worth whatever he’d paid for them. Anthony moved a few more documents around, giving Brixley time to be escorted to the drawing room. He wanted to enter after and observe how the suitor interacted with the three female Godwins. Anthony had made subtle inquiries regarding the viscount at White’s and had learned Brixley was known for his keen intelligence and devotion to his parents. That boded well, considering Anthony’s interest in family now. He wanted Hannah to be as happy as he was with Laurel. Brixley seemed to fit the bill.

He left his study and approached the drawing room, eager to see Laurel again. She and Hannah must have stayed a good while at the orphanage because she hadn’t stopped by for a quick kiss upon her return. Most likely, his sister had dragged Laurel to her rooms and made her watch as Hannah tried on gown after gown, trying to find the most suitable one for today’s tea.

Entering the room, it surprised him to find only Aunt Constance and Brixley. The viscount rose.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” he greeted.

Anthony went and shook hands with him. He supposed Hannah wanted to make a grand entrance, especially after her remark last night saying that Brixley would have to work for her.

“Did you bring your curricle?” he asked.

“Yes. Would you like to see my pair since Her Grace and Lady Hannah are not here yet?”

“Certainly.”

The two men went downstairs and Anthony admired the beauties, learning they’d been purchased at Tattersall’s last week. Brixley convinced him to take the vehicle for a quick spin. Anthony climbed up and took the reins, finding the horses handled well.

Once he’d returned, they went back inside to the drawing room. Concern filled him since Laurel and Hannah still weren’t present. The tea cart was already there so his aunt offered them both a cup.

The door opened and all eyes turned in that direction. A footman entered, carrying a small silver tray with a note upon it. He delivered it to Anthony, who opened it and scanned the few words. A winter chilled filled him as he masked his emotions. Calmly, he looked to the others.

“It seems Laurel and Hannah have been unavoidably detained at the orphanage. I’m afraid we’ll have to do tea another time, Brixley.”

The viscount stood. “Of course, Your Grace. Would you please give Lady Hannah and Her Grace my best?”

“Of course.”

Brixley took his leave and Aunt Constance asked, “Whatever could have delayed them? Hannah was so looking forward to seeing Brixley.”

He gave her a tight smile. “I think I will go and see if I can smooth things over.”

He kissed her cheek and left, his rage boiling now. Fortunately, he had years of experience in keeping it hidden. Pocketing the note, he found his butler.

“Have my wife and sister returned yet?” he asked, the slim chance of the note being a cruel joke making him stop and check.

“No, Your Grace.”

Anthony quickly left the house. He didn’t take time to have his horse saddled because he was only going a few blocks. Each step, though, fed his fury and by the time he arrived at the Everton townhouse, Anthony was ready to explode.

Barton, the butler, admitted him. “Good afternoon, Your Grace. I hope Her Grace is doing well.”

“She is,” he lied. “Is His Grace available?” he asked, thinking Everton would be at tea with his duchess.

“His Grace is in the library. I’ll show you there now.”

As the butler led Anthony upstairs, he wished the man would move faster. Everything inside him wanted to scream to the heavens. It took all he had to rein in his fear and anger.

Barton announced him and as Anthony walked in, he saw Everton had company. Lord Merrick and Lord Alford were there, as was Laurel’s brother. Thank God no females were present. He waited for the servant to close the door and strode toward where the men sat.

“Laurel and Hannah have been taken.”

To their credit, all four men shot to their feet. Everton said, “Tell us everything.”

Anthony pulled the note from his pocket and handed it to the duke. “They went to the orphanage this morning with your wife. They never returned home.”

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