Chapter 25

Nicholas cursed aloud. The headlong ride down the street jarred his spine and jolted his weary head as they crossed the cobbled street.

"Hey! Not so fast," a watchman yelled angrily. The man carried a lantern, and he swung round, trying to peer up at Nicholas, but his horse had already raced past, and Nicholas winced as they thundered up the pavement, heading up the London streets towards Kensington.

"Easy, easy," he murmured, but his horse was racing, and he guessed it was his own tension that was making him run so fast. He leaned back, controlling his breathing. His horse started to slow. They were in Kensington, getting close to Rothendale House.

The street was empty. Nicholas felt his heart pound. It had been nine o' clock when he'd raced from the ball, but it had taken him at least half an hour to firstly inform Lord and Lady Rothendale of their daughter being absent, who left straightaway. Then argue with his grandfather, ready his horse and ride from the townhouse, and at least another quarter of an hour to ride across town. He glanced around. The street was empty. Apart from a pine torch bracketed to the wall near the theater, there was no source of light.

His eyes accustomed to the paler moonlight. Rothendale House loomed on his left, the white stone walls reflecting the light. He dismounted, leading his horse to the fence, and looping the reins around a wrought-iron fence-post.

"Just a minute, old chap," he reassured him.

His heart was pounding and he knocked urgently at the door. The butler answered immediately.

"Good evening," he began. "My lord, you..."

"Is it her?" a voice yelled from the hallway behind the butler, interrupting him. Nicholas stiffened. It was Lord Rothendale.

"No, my lord," the butler called back."It's Lord Blackburne."

"Blackburne! Thank Heavens!" Lord Rothendale rushed up.

"Has he found her?" Lady Rothendale demanded. She was wrapped in a shawl and pale faced. Her eyes were wide and worried. Nicholas swallowed hard.

"No, my lord. My lady." He bowed low. "I had hoped she was at home. I was informed by my grandfather's retainer that she'd hired a coach and come home."

His heart started thudding and he felt abruptly sick. Where was she?

"We thought she was with you!" Lord Rothendale started shouting.

"I thought she was with you!" Nicholas shouted back, horror making him unable to think clearly. She might have taken a Hackney coach and been abducted. She could be on her way to the Barbary coast by tomorrow morning, to be sold into slavery. This was his fault. She'd seen him in the garden, believed what it was only logical to believe, and run.

"Where is she?" Lady Rothendale shouted. "Her reputation! What will people say?"

"This is not about her alone," Lord Rothendale snapped, making Nicholas blink. "It's our reputation too. Even worse."

"Worse?" Lady Rothendale demanded. "It's worse for a young lady to lose her reputation!"

"Will you both stop arguing?" Nicholas yelled, as Lord Rothendale drew in a breath to shout her down. "This is not about her reputation at all."

"No?" Lady Rothendale frowned.

"No," Nicholas insisted. "She could be in danger. She could be abducted. She could be killed."

Lord and Lady Rothendale stared at him, appalled. Lady Rothendale started to sob. Lord Rothendale put a hand on her shoulder, glaring at Nicholas.

"You needn't scare her," he demanded.

"I didn't mean to," Nicholas said solemnly. "We need to try and find her."

He saw Lady Rothendale pause, shocked for a moment from her sobs. Then she nodded.

"He's right."

"Where did the butler say she'd gone?" Lord Rothendale demanded. "Did he see the coach? Could he tell us anything about it?"

"I doubt it," Nicholas said tiredly. All he wanted to do was ride away and search for Bernadette. He wasn't learning anything from these two. "We need to inform the Watch. We need more people looking for her."

"Good idea...I'll do that," Lord Rothendale replied. Nicholas breathed out.

"Thank you." Finally, her parents were taking matters seriously. It was a relief to have them helping him as well. They were efficient when they actually tried to help.

"Will you come in and sit down?" Lady Rothendale asked, as Lord Rothendale barged off, her voice shaking. "It's cold outside."

Nicholas realized distantly that they were standing in the hallway and none of them were properly dressed. He nodded.

"Yes, my lady."

He followed her upstairs. The drawing room was dark, the only light came from the fireplace where the fire was burning brightly. He went over to stoke it, needing to do something. His mind was filled with scenes of horror. Bernadette, abducted. Bernadette, in a ship, sailing for some unknown coast. He turned sharply when he heard footsteps in the hallway.

"My lord? My lady?" A young woman was there. She was dressed in a black uniform, a cloth cap pulled somewhat awkwardly over her dark hair, as if she'd slept and had recently awoken and dressed. She saw him and her eyes widened in surprise.

"What is it?" Lady Rothendale snapped. "Can't you see we have a guest?"

"My lady..." The woman's voice trailed off nervously. Nicholas drew a breath to speak to her, but Lord Rothendale burst in from the hallway.

"I've sent Mr. Hadley out to inform the Watch. What are you doing here?" he demanded of the woman, who had to be a maid in the household. "Can't you see this is an emergency?"

Nicholas saw the woman's face crinkle in distress, clearly unsure whether she should be obedient and go, or brave their anger and stay. He had guessed from the nervous way she entered the room that she had something to say.

"Let me talk to her," he begged as Lord Rothendale drew in a breath to shout.

"What for?" Lord Rothendale asked, clearly affronted.

"She has something to say," Nicholas said swiftly.

The woman looked at him gratefully and Nicholas indicated that they should go out into the hallway. She hurried to do as he suggested. No sooner than she was in the hallway, than she beckoned to Nicholas to come closer so he would hear better.

"What is it?"

"Miss Rowland was here," she said quickly. "I don't want to tell the master because she asked me not to. But she was here. She came back in distress," she added, leveling an angry look his way. "And she said she wished to run away."

"Run away?" He exclaimed, but the woman pointed at the door to the drawing room, wincing in fear, and he nodded, whispering again. "Did she say where she was going?"

"Her aunt," the woman informed him briskly. "I don't know where that is," she added fearfully.

He almost swore. "You don't know?" he asked, distress tightening around his lungs and making it hard to draw breath.

"No. But I know where she is now," the woman told him.

He gaped at her.

"You do? Please, please tell me." He struggled not to cry, relief almost crippling him. He had thought she had been abducted, thrown into a ship somewhere, bound for distant lands where he would not be able to pursue her captors.

"In Mrs. Brookham's boarding house. Shh," she added, as he almost sobbed in relief. "Please don't tell them."

"I promise," Nicholas agreed at once, wincing inwardly with the understanding that they were her parents and that they, even though their response seemed self-centered, had to be suffering too. "Thank you." He paused. "Where is this place?"

"In King's Street," the woman told him firmly. "Ask for it by name. I'm certain the Hackney coach drivers know where it is."

"Thank you," Nicholas whispered again, taking her hand, his heart thudding with the need to find her. "Thank you. I don't have the words to thank you enough."

"I just want her to be safe," the woman said sternly. "Safe and happy."

"I promise," Nicholas said formally. "I promise that I will do my best."

"Good."

Nicholas smiled to himself, heart bursting. He thanked the woman again, then hurried upstairs to the drawing room.

"Excuse me," he told Lord and Lady Rothendale swiftly. "I am going out. I will be back shortly."

"But where...what?" Lady Rothendale started to demand.

"Let him go," Lord Rothendale said wearily. Nicholas wondered as he bowed and hurried down the stairs, whether Lord Rothendale had guessed he knew, or whether he had simply decided that nobody could be of any use at all to them.

He found his thoughts racing again as he untied his horse's reins and mounted up, wincing with the knowledge that the poor creature needed food and water, then all thoughts drifted from his mind as he rode through the darkened, silent streets towards King's Street. His heart was soaring, his body tense and his gaze focused ahead as he rode. His every sense was bent to the task. He needed to find her, and soon.

And once he had, he would do his best to make up for what had happened.