Chapter Thirty-Two

J oss watched the house for a good half hour before giving a quick nod to Arliss Batson, who then jerked his chin in acknowledgement. They didn't need words to communicate. Arliss was a former military man, and had been working for the Hound for many years. And what he'd gleaned from his service to king and country had been well utilized during his tenure with the unofficial king of London's underbelly.

Crossing the road, Joss knocked loudly upon the door. "Mrs. Foster?"

The door opened, but only by a scant inch. Even that was enough for him to see that the young woman inside was not Annie's mother. The sister then.

"Lady Ernsdale sent me," he explained. "My name is Mr. Joshua Ettinger. I'm a private inquiry agent... and Lady Ernsdale is quite concerned because your sister, Annie, did not return as scheduled."

The girl's eyes widened and she opened the door, not to invite him in but to step outside herself. "Annie left ages ago. She should have long since returned by now. But please keep your voice down. My mother is not well. She tried to put on a brave front when Annie was here, and it's left her very fatigued, Mr. Ettinger."

"I understand . . . Mary, is it?"

"Yes, sir. Mary Foster. Annie is older by four years."

It was a strange bit of information to offer, but that was a mystery for another day. "Did Annie say she intended to stop anywhere before returning to Mayfair?"

"No, sir. Annie intended to return straightaway. She's quite worried about her ladyship, though she didn't say why. And given what she's said in the past about the late Lord Ernsdale, I know it's not her ladyship's grief that was cause for her concern."

Was there a soul alive who didn't know what an utter arse Ernsdale was? It seemed unlikely. If they were ignorant of it, then it was likely that they were also entirely ignorant of him. "Does she take a certain route home that you're aware of?"

"She takes the Westminster Bridge and then cuts through St. James Park. If she's any bit of extra coin, she'll buy old bread from the baker down the street and feed it to the swans."

"I'll check there to see if she stopped on her way home, and I'll try to retrace her steps to see if I can find anything of note. If you think of anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to send word to me... but do not come by yourself. I will leave a man here to watch your door. You may give the missive to him, and he will see it delivered."

She frowned at him. "You do not think that Annie has taken ill or had some sort of accident. You think someone has hurt her."

"I suspect it," he admitted, sensing that the girl would surely know if he lied. She seemed to have an uncanny insight. "But I have no proof of that as yet. I hope, with all my heart, to be wrong."

"I pray you are wrong, as well, Mr. Ettinger. If something has happened to my sister, it will be the death of our mother. She could not bear it."

Joss felt the weight of that pressing on him. "I will do everything in my power to see your sister safe. Beyond that, I can make no promises, Miss Foster. I will not lie to you. I strongly suspect that I could not even if I desired to. It's very possible that Simon Dagliesh, the nephew of the late Lord Ernsdale, may have had a hand in his murder and now means to see an end to Lady Ernsdale's life, as well. Annie may be a tool he means to use against her."

The girl's face paled. "Annie has spoken of him before. She does not like him. Not at all. And she's hinted that he... well, that he could be very dangerous to any woman."

Joss bit back the curse that sprang to his lips. "I'm not surprised to hear it. Thank you, Miss Foster, again for the information. I will send word when I have learned anything of note."

*

Hettie was seated in a well upholstered chair in the morning room. Honoria was seated across from her. Each of them had a sewing basket before them and some halfhearted attempt at embroidery. Neither of them was particularly good at it or particularly interested in it. But it gave them something to do with their hands other than simply wringing them with worry.

"If there is any clue to be found, Mr. Ettinger will find it," Honoria offered with complete conviction.

"You seem so very certain of that," Hettie replied.

"He found you, didn't he? And with a much greater delay from the time of your abduction to the beginning of his investigation... if she can be found, he is the man for it."

Hettie didn't bother to explain that it wasn't her lack of faith in Joss. It was her certainty in the wickedness of others. After all, they'd seen it firsthand on numerous occasions with their respective husbands—well, former husbands. They had also seen the aftermath of it countless times as they tended to women who were at the mercy of brutal men and a society that left them with no power at all.

"I know he'll do what he can. But I also know that Simon will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He's reckless with money and wagers on everything far beyond his means. That recklessness is matched only by his ruthlessness. It will not matter to him who he must hurt or kill in the name of what he wants," Hettie explained. "I truly believe, had there been even a slim chance of having a child during my marriage, that he'd have done away with me long ago. I was only allowed to live because I posed no threat to him in that regard."

"But you are with child, and legally that child will be recognized as Arthur's," Honoria surmised.

"Precisely," Hettie concurred. "I think there may be only two men in all of London who care if I actually live or die... your husband and Joss. And Vincent only cares because of how it impacts you."

Honoria sighed. "It pains me that you lived in such fear and such loneliness. That kind of isolation is devastating. And I should know."

"We have both known our fair share of those particular emotions. At least now our fear is generally reserved for others than ourselves... I suppose that might be considered an improvement in our circumstances, but it does not feel that way in this moment. All I can think about is how remarkably brave and selfless Foster was in her efforts to save me. What if he doesn't find her, Honoria? What if Simon has done the unthinkable?"

"We will deal with that if it comes. In the meantime, we must discuss what you and Mr. Ettinger mean to do about the child you carry."

"We mean to marry," Hettie said. "By common license and as soon as possible."

Honoria let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank heavens!"

"Do not... not yet. We are not marrying out of love. This is not some romantic notion that has overtaken us. It's the most expedient way to make me less of a threat to Simon. Once we marry, the child I carry will be Joss's in every way... by blood and by law."

"Surely that is not the only reason!"

Hettie hoped it wasn't. But she was not ready to own that yet, to admit it either to herself or to her sister. She wasn't ready to admit the depth of her feelings for him when she had no notion if those feelings would ever be returned. Oh, he desired her. But she was very aware that, if not for the fact that their fateful night together had resulted in conception, he would likely never have spoken to her again, much less be planning to marry her.

Funnily enough, the thought of one day marrying for love had sustained her through the worst days of her marriage to Arthur. All her hopes and prayers had centered on such a thing. She had just never specified that the love should be mutual. Now, she found herself hopelessly in love with a man who felt obligated to marry her, and she had no notion of what his true feelings were for her or if they would ever be anything beyond desire and perhaps responsibility.