4. A Mystery Deepens

Meanwhile, back at March House

The butler, Bentley, had the hunter green front door opened before Persephone and Jack stepped up to it.

"There's been an incident this evening, Bentley," Persephone stated as she sailed into the hall and turned to allow the servant to help her with her mantle. "Someone attempted to abduct Lord Wilmington from the ball this evening, but they put him into the wrong coach," she said, her words the first to describe what she had come to realize was the only explanation for what had happened that evening. "Is the master suite ready for a guest? His lordship is in need of quarters for the night."

Bentley's usual bored expression was replaced with one of alarm. "It is, of course, my lady. Should I send Carlisle to fetch a constable? Or... or a Bow Street Runner?" he asked, referring to one of the footmen.

Jack exchanged a quick glance with Persephone and shook his head. "That won't be necessary, although I may see to it myself in the morning," he murmured.

"Will you require a valet, sir?"

Once again, Jack shook his head and then winced at having made his headache worse. "I can dress myself, but I really could use a glass of water," he said.

"I'll bring up a pitcher and a glass to the bedchamber right away," Bentley replied.

"I can escort you to your room," Persephone offered before she turned her attention back to Bentley. "No one outside of this household can know Lord Wilmington is here," she stated firmly. "Do I make myself clear, Bentley? No one can know. His life may in danger," she stated, now sure she was speaking the truth. "And tell Cooper I won't be needing her this evening," she added, referring to her lady's maid.

His brows rising nearly to his hairline, Bentley swallowed. "Of course, my lady. I shan't tell anyone he's here."

Persephone hooked her arm into Jack's and led him to the staircase set off to one side of the hall. She was aware of his attention on her and sensed he wished to speak, but she didn't say anything until they were at the top of the stairs. "What is it?" she asked in a whisper.

"I don't recall seeing you at the ball tonight," he said as they moved to climb the next flight of stairs to the second floor. "I'm sure I would remember, given your gown," he added. "You always look stunning in blue."

Glancing down at her sapphire blue ballgown, Persephone huffed. "It would have been far more memorable if it had been the only one of its style and color," she groused. "I saw similar gowns on at least three other ladies tonight," she complained. "I was rather late with my arrival, though. Ten o'clock or shortly thereafter."

"Oh?" he replied. "What kept you?"

"I despise having to go through a receiving line, and Lord and Lady Weatherstone must be the last aristocrats in Mayfair who insist on greeting their guests before they're announced at the top of the stairs," she complained. "I had hoped to avoid it?—"

"Why?" he asked. They were stopped in front of a door near the end of a corridor.

"I had no one to escort me this evening," she stated before she turned the door handle and pushed the dark wood panel open to reveal the master bedchamber. She moved to an ebony dresser and opened the top drawer. "Once I'm in the ballroom, I'm fine. It's always such a crush... but they were still greeting guests when I arrived. I had the unenviable honor of being the last one in line." She pulled a nightshirt from the drawer and shook it out before her eyes rounded.

"What is it?" Jack asked, noticing her alarm. He glanced around the room, expecting to find something wrong. The bedchamber seemed in perfect order, though, and the stale odor of disuse wasn't evident in the air.

"Do you remember if the receiving line was still in place when you were taken from the house?" she asked, her attention still on her mind's eye as she absently handed him the nightshirt.

Not expecting the query, Jack scoffed. "I don't think my... my abductor would have used that route if they..." He clamped his mouth shut.

"What?" she asked, reaching up to undo the knot in his cravat.

"The receiving line couldn't have been there because I remember seeing Weatherstone in the ballroom. When I went to get a drink," he murmured. "That means the receiving line had broken up before... before I was drugged."

Persephone considered his comment for a moment as she unwrapped the silk from around his neck. "Do you remember going up the stairs?" she asked, moving to undo his topcoat buttons.

Bentley appeared at the door, which was still open. He carried a silver salver on which rested a pitcher of water and a crystal glass. "Your water, sir," he said, setting the tray on the dresser. He poured a glass and offered it to the earl. "I've taken the liberty of requesting hot washing water be brought up for you. It's to be delivered to her ladyship's bathing chamber," he explained in a quiet voice, nodding his head in the direction of a door in the corner of the room. "So no one will know you are here."

"Thank you, Bentley," Jack replied before he downed the entire glass in a few gulps. He closed his eyes a few moments before taking a deep breath. "That's better," he whispered.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" the butler asked, his attention on his mistress. He refilled the glass of water.

"I think that should do it," she replied. "I appreciate your discretion, and I rather doubt we'll be in need of your services before noon," she added quietly. "I'm sure his lordship will wish to sleep off the effects of the drug."

"Very good, my lady." Bentley took his leave, although he didn't shut the door.

Sensing Jack was going to ask about the room arrangements, Persephone said, "The mistress and master suites are connected by way of the bathing chamber..." she waved to the corner door, "...and the dressing room," she added, pointing to a door adjacent to the main door. "If you have everything you need, I'll go to my room now," she said, moving to the still-open door.

Jack reached out and gently hooked a hand around her elbow. When she turned, her eyes met his as she furrowed a brow. "I'll have everything you need if you join me in here," he said in a whisper. "I may not last long..." He let the sentence trail off before he sighed in frustration.

Persephone inhaled softly. "All right," she replied, her pulse accelerating at the thought of spending the night in bed with Jack. Even if they only held one another, it would be a welcome change from sleeping alone. "Lock your door. I'll be about a half-hour," she said. "You'll no doubt hear the footman when he arrives with the water."

"Thank you, Sephie," he replied, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her softly. Slowly. And when he finally pulled away, he left his forehead pressed to hers. "You would never believe how much I have wanted to do that."

A slow smile lifting the corners of her lips, Persephone whispered, "Perhaps you can endeavor to convince me in a half-hour?" Without waiting for a reply, she turned and left the bedchamber, pulling the door shut behind her.