Chapter Thirty-Five

H art looked down at his watch fob. It was four o’clock, and he’d seen neither hide nor hair of his wife all afternoon. Not that they had to spend all their time together… but also, he would happily spend all his time with her. Christ, what a lovesick fool he had become. Since when had one woman consumed his thoughts so fully, so endlessly. He ran a hand over his face. Lovesick was exactly it. He had fallen in love with his wife.

Hart stared straight ahead, a smile spreading across his face until the stretch of it began to ache. He slapped his hands on his desk and stood up. He should go to the bank vault and pick out a proper ring for her. There had to be something among the Hartwick jewels that exemplified how big his feelings were for Lucy. Something with a sapphire to match her eyes.

The door to his study swung open without a knock first. Townson stood on the threshold his expression grim, brows furrowed together like one long hairy caterpillar.

“Please excuse the interruption, sir. But these two have distressing news to impart about Lady Hartwick.” He stepped into the room.

Behind him Herbert and Helen stood clutching hands. Helen’s face was red and mottled with tears.

Hart’s stomach lurched. “Where is she?”

“We was shopping at the Covent Garden market this afternoon after she’d had lunch with Lady Blakely.” Herbert began, his cockney accent thick with worry. “We was just collecting the fabric she selected, and then I turned around and she was gone.”

Helen met Hart’s gaze. “She was right next to us one minute. And then she was gone.”

“We spent the last two hours searching the entire market for her. We thought maybe she ended up coming home…” Herbert hung his head.

Nausea rolled in his gut. Hart sucked in a deep breath. “What happened right before you noticed her missing. I need to know every detail. Did she speak with anyone?”

“Yes,” Helen said. “Yes, a gentleman approached, and I saw her converse with him,”

Hart stepped forward. “Do you know who it was?”

Helen screwed up her face as she thought about it. “She called him Lord Perrin. He said he saw some clocks she might like? I think he said clocks. We were gathering up the things we bought. I never thought she wasn’t waiting for us.” Helen voice hitched with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Your Grace.”

Hart’s blood froze. Lord Perrin was Griffen’s son. Lucy would know better than to go anywhere with him. Unless she was forced somehow. Fury cold and hard raced through his veins. Griffen would pay with his life if he hurt one hair on her head.

“If she is harmed the both of you are sacked. You had one damn job, to keep an eye on her!” Panic had a vice grip around his heart. He pushed past the servants and stormed down the corridor to the front hall. He needed help and there was only one person who could figure out where she was. Hart opened the front door and raced down the front stoop to the drive.

“Seaton,” he shouted up into the ether. “Seaton!”

Across the street Seaton melted out from the shadows of a large oak in the park. He walked casually up to the front gate. “You bellowed?” he said with a smirk.

“Do you know where she is?” he demanded.

“I’m paid to follow you, not her,” Seaton replied.

Hart stalked toward his half-brother. “She’s gone. Disappeared from the Covent Garden market this afternoon. Last person she spoke with was Griffen’s son, Lord Perrin.”

His breath came out hard and fast as his thoughts started to spiral. Everyone he loved had been taken from him. Griffen wouldn’t have been able to use her to get to him if he had just followed his first instinct and kept her at arm’s length. Now she was in danger because of him. Grabbing the iron gate, he flung it open and Seaton walked through eyeing Hart with serious grey eyes.

Hart paced away his hands clenched into fists at his side. The hell if he would lose Lucy too. He would burn down the whole city to find her. He swung around. “ Fuck. This is all my fault. She is in danger because of me.”

Seaton let out a sharp whistle. Hart followed Seaton’s gaze up to the roof line. Less than two minutes passed and a young man maybe sixteen shimmied down the drain pipe landing on his feet with more grace than any adolescent usually possessed. Hart couldn’t help but gape.

The boy reported to Seaton who said, “Gabe, race on down to the garden and talk with the lads who was working it today. We are looking for Lady Hartwick. See if any of them saw her this afternoon. Then report back to me.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy ran off down the street.

Seaton turned back to Hart. “What? I can’t sit around and keep an eye on you personally every minute. I have my team on the job.”

Hart didn’t care who was on his roof or which scruffy street urchin followed him around the city as long as they could use them to find Lucy. Some of the panic that mixed with the rage in chest loosened as he watched the boy disappear.

“She is in danger because Griffen and his cronies are bastards who wish to keep their secrets. You have nothing to do with the sins of our father.” His gaze was flat and devoid of emotion.

In contrast, Hart’s emotions felt out of control. Despair and the desire to rip apart anyone who harmed Lucy warred with his ability to think logically. He sighed. “I just wanted to know the truth. I wanted to be able to punish those who destroyed my family. Who ruined my life.”

“I understand that more than you know, brother. But aren’t you being overly dramatic? What happened to you was terrible but you are still the duke, still in possession of all your money and lands.”

Hart ran a hand down over his face. “Those things don’t matter, she does.” He would do whatever it took to have Lucy back in his arms. God, he never told her how much she had come to mean to him. How much he loved her. She had given him her heart, and the whole time he had been too scared to love her back because of exactly this, he ruined everything he touched.

“Tell me this, would you have even seen how special she is before? Or would she have just been another notch on your bedpost?”

Hart sucked in a sharp breath. Seaton’s words stung as only the truth could.

“You think what happened to you ruined your life. But perhaps it simply gave you the opportunity for a different life from the ashes of your old one. Stop looking at what you lost and start seeing what you have gained.”

Hart straightened his shoulders. Seaton was right. This was no time to fucking wallow. They had to find her. He looked across at Seaton. “Will you help me find her? Please?”

Seaton stared at him for a long moment. Then he nodded. “But don’t mistake me for the good guy. I have no fucking reason to be a hero.”

“Then why are you agreeing to help?”

“I like your lady.”

Well then. If he hadn’t felt so panicked, he might have laughed at how Lucy managed to win over everyone she met, even this coarse dangerous man. The slapping of footsteps echoed from his left and another boy, much younger than the one that had come off his roof, raced down the street toward them.

Hart turned to Seaton. “One of yours?”

Seaton shook his head. He put a hand out to stop the boy. “What’s your business today in St. James Square?”

The boy was out of breath. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “I have a note for the Duke of Hartwick. Do you know which house is his?”

Hart stood. “I am the Duke of Hartwick.”

The boy’s eyes went wide as saucers. He held out a shaking hand with a sealed letter between his fingers.

Hart strode over and snatched it up. He tore through the plain wax seal and read the neat script.

I have your wife. Bring the journal to Vauxhall Gardens tonight at ten o’clock and we will make the exchange like gentlemen.

Hart stared down at the words make the exchange like gentlemen . Like fucking gentlemen who used women as ransom? He handed the note to Seaton.

Seaton snorted in disgust. He fished out a coin from his pocket and held it up in front of the boy’s nose. “Where did you get this note from?”

The boy’s eyes locked on the gold coin. “A nob approached me on Westminster Bridge.”

Seaton flipped the coin to the lad, and the boy ran off. Turning to Hart, he shook his head. “They are stupid. Haven’t hired anyone to do the dirty work this time. Didn’t take her far; my bet is they’re keeping her on the river.”

Hart scrubbed his hand through his hair. “But I don’t have the journal. I’ve looked through all of my father’s things, the safe. He must have kept it at Belstoke.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll find out where they have her before tonight. Give me a few hours. Then we’ll go ambush them in their hidey hole.” Then Seaton walked away without another word.

Hart stood on the drive, watching his best chance to find Lucy stroll away like he was enjoying an afternoon off from work. What was he supposed to do until ten o’clock this evening? What if they were hurting her? She would certainly fight. Damn it, Lucy, be smart. Don’t aggravate your captors. He flipped up the cover on his watch fob, four-thirty. The bank was still open. He would go there and see if the journal was kept in the Hartwick safe. Trusting Seaton was not easy, and it couldn’t hurt to have the journal to trade if it came down to that.

“Townson,” he called out as he took the front stairs two at a time. “Get my carriage ready immediately.”