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Authors: Wareeze Woodson

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BOOK: A Lady's Vanishing Choices
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“Tell me everything you know about the time your sister disappeared. Everything you can remember. What she was doing, where she might have gone, and for how long,” Royce invited.

“She be missing bout three weeks,” Jem stated, dropping his gaze while a wash of red covered his face. “She loped off to see her lover in Bath. She says how he has money and promised to set her up good. I tried to tell her it be all a hum.” Jem raised both hands in the air. “Does she listen? No.”

“How did she travel to Bath?”

Jem grumbled, “On the mail. No matter, Mum might need her. Selfish, that’s her.”

In full sympathy with the boy, Royce asked, “Her name exactly?”

“Mary Rose Breen, a fancy name. Should be Jane or something plain like.”

Royce bit back a grin at Jem’s opinions. “Do you know her lover’s name?”

“Nun-un.”

“You say she intended to meet him in Bath. Exactly where?”

“Blue Boar Inn,” Jem supplied with a frown. “On Carter Street. But me mum askt for her. Claims they has no idea.”

“All the same, tell me of her appearance. Perhaps I shall be more persuasive.”

“She be kinda pretty. I gives her that. Nice yeller hair, blue eyes, and small. Bout to here,” Jem said and measured to his forehead. “Not tall like me.” With his chest puffed out, he boasted, “I be thirteen and big.”

“And how old is your sister?”

Jem shrugged and hung his head. “Seventeen near four months ago. Alls I knows is Mum be worrit.”

“Certainly, she would be concerned. I’ll see what I can do.” Royce nodded to the boy and turned toward his horse. “I’ll be in touch.”

Deep in thought, he mounted and rode away. There was an undercurrent of tension in at Birdelwood Manor extending all the way to the stables. Bethany had attempted to speak to him, and he could kick his own backside now for the cut direct he had administered. He should have had more sense. Her allure had dictated his mood, but with his wounding attitude, he had deliberately frightened her away, along with any information he might have gleaned. He gritted his teeth.
Well, hell.

Chapter 8

Bethany made her way through the small village of Chadwick with her mind in turmoil. She’d finally gathered enough courage to confide in Lord Rivton about a possible crime when he delivered a stinging cut-direct. He actually chose that moment to look down his nose at her. Although he was the authority in the county, his haughty attitude had quelled any desire to even speak to him in passing, much less give him information.

Fuming, she tossed her head and shifted Aunt Gertrude’s small attempt at benevolence beneath her arm. What a beast of a day. She’d best control her emotions before she reached the vicar’s cottage. She took several deep breaths, straightened her shoulders, and passed the graveyard next to the church building. The afternoon sun glinted off the edge of the bell in the tower, causing moisture to gather at the back of her eyes. That must be the reason for the threat of tears.

She blinked several times and entered the picket fence closing off the dwelling. A pigeon resting on one of the fence posts fluttered into a nearby tree and deposited wet droppings onto the wrappings in her arms.
Oh.
Kiss a duck.

Bethany laid the bundle down, plucking a low hanging bunch of leaves to wipe at the mess.
How disgusting
.
Before she fully finished the task, she spotted the vicar’s daughter hurrying down the path towards her and stood to greet her friend.

Linda’s green eyes sparked with joy, her golden curls bouncing as she ran. Bubbling with excited laughter, she came to a halt. “Wait until you hear. You remember I told you about my beau? He asked me to marry him,” she squealed. Whirling around, she giggled and caught one of Bethany’s hands. “You’ll meet him soon.”

Bethany squeezed her hand in return. “I’m happy for you.”

“He’s so tall, dark, and very handsome.”

Bethany chuckled. “You certainly sound besotted.”

“I am. I can hardly wait until the wedding.” Linda sighed and clasped her fingers together against her heart.

“When is the happy occasion?”

“Not until late in the fall.” Linda whirled around in a light dance step. “My heart says, hurry. His kisses make my knees melt.” She shot a slightly guilty glance toward her friend. “We
are
going to be married. You can’t expect to catch a man if you won’t offer anything.”

Bethany grinned. “I suppose there is some merit to that. I just don’t know what it is.”

She didn’t envy Linda exactly, but a bolt of wistfulness crowded out the joy of the moment. “How delightful it must be to fall in love and have that love returned with no concern for a dowry. No need to attract a wealthy suitor or apprehension about the suitability of the match either. You were able to simply follow your heart.”

“I know you’re roasting me.” Linda brushed her fingers against her lips. “I couldn’t resist, truth be known. He’s so handsome and sweet.” She lowered her voice. “Goosebumps run all the way to my toes when he merely looks at me.”


You know enough about him to be certain he is the one?” A slight doubt began to haunt Bethany. She’d never known Linda’s affections to be so easily engaged. Still, what did she know? She’d nearly run a stranger off the road and attraction had instantly pulled at her. His smile would be devastating—if he ever bothered to cast one her way.

“I know enough,” Linda defended and squared her shoulders. “I know I love him and that he loves me.”

Bethany touched Linda’s arm, instantly contrite. “I only wish to share your joy, not imply he isn’t all you claim.”

“Once you see him, you’ll understand. Laurent and his sister are all that remain of his family.” In a hushed tone, as if telling a dark secret, Linda added, “In fact, I met his sister recently, along with a friend of hers. The friend, a widow lady, has an amazing resemblance to you. It gave me quite a turn when I first laid eyes on her.”

Startled by such a revelation, Bethany grimaced. “Poor thing.”

“Nonsense. You’re very lovely, regardless of the set-downs and belittling delivered by your relatives. I’ve never understood why your family would want you so downtrodden.”

“Someone must see to the running of the household and keep the coffers filled for all of the
family’s
activities.” Bethany pinched her lips together before puffing out a breath. “They seem almost afraid to allow me to step out of the role of the poor relative. Uncle Arthur would need to bestir himself. Simply because he has a title before his name is no cause to be high in the instep. It’s as if I owe them never-ending gratitude for giving me a home when my parents died.”

Linda hesitated before uttering, “That’s a shame and so unfair. They are the ones who need to express gratitude to you for all you do to sustain the family.”

Bethany laughed. “I may certainly dream of such a happening, but real life is nothing like that.”

“I’m blessed. My family wants me to be happy. That’s why father allowed the betrothal.” Linda clasped her hands together at the side of her face. “Anyway, Laurent is a fencing master.”

Again a slight unease stirred Bethany. With her head cocked to the side in question, she glanced at her friend. “He owns a fencing salon, is it?”

“No, he travels from estate to estate teaching young boys how to fence and defend themselves in general. He says it’s more profitable.”

“Does your papa cut up stiff because he’s a fencing master?” Bethany inquired with a gentle smile.

“He’s not best pleased, but he wishes me to be happy.” Linda shrugged. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with an honorable earning of one’s bread.” With a defensive attitude, she raised her shoulders.

A long moment of silence stretched between the young ladies. “Then, I’m delighted you’ve found your love.” Bethany gave her a hug and stepped back. “Not to change the subject from your dear, handsome betrothed, but I brought a bundle of clothing from Aunt Gertrude.”

“That is generous of her. Let’s take it into the house.” Linda started to pick up the package.”

“Be careful. There’s bird droppings on it. I startled the silly creature and it flew up into the tree before deliberately aiming for my bundle. I cleaned most of it off, but there might be more.”

“I’ll come back for it later. I want to show you my gown. I’m so excited.” Linda linked arms with Bethany and entered the cottage. “You’ll meet Laurent at the ball.”

“What ball?” Apprehension quaked through Bethany. She didn’t like the sound of such a grand occasion where her family would have the opportunity to belittle her before a crowd. Her muscles tensed and she shrugged to loosen the knot between her shoulders.

“The earl’s ball. I’ve been invited. So have you.”

“I have no such invitation.” Bethany shook her head. “You must be mistaken. Not being out in social circles often, I still know enough to recognize a cut-direct when I receive one. I’ll not attend a party in the house of such a high-stickler, conceited, shall I say, gentleman.” Burning with humiliation at the remembered slight, she clenched her fists. Perhaps his ill manners were a good thing. Being angry with him was safer than attraction.

“Of course you are invited. I heard Perry tell my father you would attend.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it. Even with an invitation, I shall not attend. After such a set-down, I can’t imagine he included me in the invitation. Besides, I’d be forced to wear one of Aunt Gertrude’s refurbished gowns.”

“That’s intolerable, I’ll admit.” Linda grimaced. “But you would face down anything that comes your way and you know it. You must come. I want you to meet Laurent.”

Dread hovered over Bethany. She didn’t wish to disappoint her friend, but attending the ball would be a sacrifice. “Oh, Linda. You know I find it hard to refuse you.” Fighting to keep the reluctance from her voice, she agreed, “If my uncle will allow me to attend, I shall, but only to meet your beau. Though I don’t know how you shall look him in the face and introduce a dowdy as your friend.”

“Nonsense. I’m proud to call you friend.” Linda rolled her eyes. “And such a friend. If you don’t believe me, wait and see. Even in a cast-off gown, you shall outshine all the others.”

Bethany held up her hand. “Don’t throw the hammer at me. I shall attend, if possible, but that is all I’ll agree to do. Now I’m ready for you to overwhelm me with this breathtaking new gown.”

“Posh. This won’t take long, and besides, I wanted to show you a new way to arrange your hair instead of your usual knot.” Linda’s tone disparaged that choice. “If you would make the least effort, you would be more than splendid.”

“Thank you, Linda. I don’t truly have the time today. Let me peek at your gown. I shall let you show me this new style in a few days. I promise.” Bethany followed Linda into her room where her gown lay on the bed.

Bethany caught her breath at the fine, white satin underdress to be worn beneath a soft pick gauze over-gown. Love knots of ribbons were placed all about the hem and puffed sleeves. “Oh, Linda, it is truly lovely. You’ll be the belle of the ball, I dare say.”

“If only Laurent thinks so,” Linda sighed and smoothed the folds of her dress with loving fingers.

“I’d best hurry or I shall be late. Come, walk me to the door.”

Bethany and Linda went well past the door, all the way to the gate. Reluctant to end the conversation, the girls stood talking. After several minutes, Bethany inched away and turned to leave.

The rumble of wheels and the wild snorting of a horse drew her attention. She glanced in the direction of the noise and froze at the sight of a gig drawn by an out-of-control horse heading directly towards her. The rattle of boards as the wheels swiped against the fence snapped her out of her immobility. Too late. The wild-eyed horse thudded into her. Before the animal sent her flying, a blast of warm air from its distended nostrils exploded against her face. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and her chest burned like fire while she sailed through empty space.

Linda’s scream echoed in Bethany’s head when the horse knocked her out of the path of the run-away gig. The vehicle swayed away from Bethany before leaving a cloud of dust in the road swirling into her face.

Bethany lay winded from the harsh thump. Grit crunched between her clenched teeth and her head whirled. She tried to scramble to her feet, but only gained her knees when a curricle pulled off the road beside her.

Lord Rivton swiftly reached her side. “How badly are you injured?”

She struggled to rise on her elbows. A sudden bout of weakness assailed her and nausea clogged her throat.

“With your permission, let me help you sit.”

Thankful for any support, even from this antagonistic gentleman, she accepted his offer with a nod. After her agreement, he slid his arm around her shoulders.

“Are you all right?” Linda’s voice trembled while gazing down the road. “Why didn’t that Bedlamite stop?”

Taken up with her hammering head and stinging arm, Bethany barely heard her friend. The pain in her hip throbbed through her entire body, focusing all her attention on her discomfort. She gritted her teeth to hold back a moan.

The vicar erupted out of the cottage, his face pale and filled with distress. “My child. What a dastardly thing to have happened.” He turned to Linda. “Send Sam for the doctor. Be quick about it.”

With his arm still around her for support, Lord Rivton brushed her hair off her forehead. “There’s blood in your hair. You have a large knot, too.”

She caught her breath when she gazed into his eyes. His mesmerizing stare snared her, familiar, disturbing and with the same intensity she’d witnessed the first time she’d met him on the lane. Drawn in by his scrutiny, then as now, she withdrew mentally. The cut direct still rankled.

Royce’s gaze roved over her. “You have blood on your arm. Where else are you injured?”

At that moment, she became aware of the sting running down to her wrist. Bethany slowly exhaled a shaky breath. “Mostly my shoulder and my arm.”

Her forearm had a scrape from the elbow to the wrist and her hip felt very little better. She certainly had no intentions of mentioning that to this particular gentleman. Pain radiated throughout her body, but informing him wouldn’t help the situation.

“Perhaps you should allow me to examine your shoulder before I move you inside.”

“Certainly you may.” While he examined her shoulder, the heat from his hands traveled through her thin garment down her arm to the tips of her fingers. Much to her dismay, his examination even affected her breathing. His competent control of the situation heightened her reluctant awareness of him, too. He leaned in and the slight sound of his breathing so close to her ear sent a tingle down to her collarbone.

The vicar hovered over her. “Let’s get you inside.”

Royce lifted her in his arms. “She’s shaking. Probably shock.”

“Quite right.” The vicar straightened. “The doctor should be here shortly.”

A sensation of panic swamped Bethany. Not because of the strength of his arms. She’d been held before. Of course, Perry had been only a young boy, a mere stripling, and this was a man with a man’s strength. Being held so close to him would be an ordeal, but she was more concerned his arm would rest against her throbbing hip. When he lifted her, she couldn’t control a wince.

“Where else are you injured?”

“My hip,” she forced out between gritted teeth.

He headed to the house, his calculating scrutiny never leaving her face. “Then I’ll have you settled in a flash.”

Linda opened the door and snatched a shawl off of the sofa. “Bring her in here.”

Royce smiled down at Bethany with gentle concern before he lowered her to the sofa. A butterfly fluttered in her throat, forcing her to catch a quick breath. She swallowed heavily. Strangely bereft when his arms were no longer supporting her, she settled into the sofa. Not that she wanted his embrace. Far from it, but the sensation snatched all the air from the room. She placed her hand on her chest.
She should be above such nonsense, especially after he snubbed her earlier in the day
. I’m insane.

“I’ll fetch a bandage and the basilicum powder.” Linda rustled away.

BOOK: A Lady's Vanishing Choices
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