The Clarendon Rose (17 page)

“The devil you say!” he burst out.
 
“Looking for a position?”

“But then she got engaged to Lord Edmund and I assumed—“

“Yes, well that’s off now,” he interrupted, glaring into the distance a moment, before glancing at the chit.
 
“Did you give her any names?”

“Yes.
 
I wanted to help, but…” she trailed off into silence, shrugging.

“She did receive a letter a few days ago, Your Grace,” Mrs. Keithly volunteered.
 
“Since Miss Tina doesn’t get mail—usually just from Lord Edmund if he’s away for any length of time—I did note it.”

Clarendon closed his eyes a moment, willing himself to calm.
 
Then, he opened them and nodded.
 
“Thank you Mrs. Keithly.
 
And Miss Fielding.
 
Tell me, was it a long list of names?”

She shook her head.
 
“Not beyond five or six.”

“Good God,” he muttered.
 
“Well, you’d better come with me, then.”

She frowned suspiciously and he felt a grim amusement at the girl’s patent mistrust.
 
“Where are we going?”

He ignored her question as he turned to the housekeeper.
 
“Mrs. Keithly, have the carriage prepared.
 
And have word sent ahead to my brother that Miss Fielding and I will be arriving at the family residence in London as soon as we can manage.
 
Make sure he understands that Miss Merriweather has gone missing and we have no idea of her direction.
 
Oh, and send someone to Miss Fielding’s family, apprising them of the situation.
 
Make sure they are aware she will be staying at the family residence.
 
My mother is there and will serve as chaperone.”

The housekeeper curtseyed and retreated.

He glanced back at the young woman.
 
“We are going to London.
 
Fortunately, my mother is staying there, so you can spend the night at the family residence without fear for your reputation.”

“I did infer that much, Your Grace,” she murmured, not looking at him.

Clarendon ignored the interruption.
 
“When we arrive, I would like all the information you can provide on the various names you gave Miss Merriweather.
 
Perhaps along our way, you can occupy yourself by trying to recall the full list?”

“Of course.
 
I’ll do anything I can to help,” she said.

“And Miss Fielding, I do apologize for my rudeness.
 
I was—
am
—concerned for Miss Merriweather’s welfare.
 
As a result I forgot myself.”

“Naturally,” she said, her expression still cautious.
 
“Your behavior is understandable under the circumstances.”

They waited in silence.
 
Clarendon paced, so caught up in his roiling thoughts that he did not even think to offer Miss Fielding a seat.
 
Fortunately, the carriage pulled up a few minutes later.

Once they had set off, Clarendon confined himself to one corner of the conveyance, where he sat, glaring out the window and flagellating himself for driving Miss Merriweather away.
 
For, upon considering the events of the last several days, he had reached the damning conclusion that his own improper advances had been enough for Miss Merriweather to consider herself compromised.
 
Rather than dishonor Edmund by going ahead with the marriage, she had broken her engagement with him in order to assuage her unfounded guilt.
 
And, not wanting to return to the threat of more improper advances from the duke, she had decided to flee the situation altogether.
 

A life of servitude, honor intact, was clearly preferable to fending off his uncontrolled attacks upon her person, he reflected, bitterness at his own weakness battling with admiration for her strength of character.
 
Instead of flinching away from the consequences, she had done what she saw as the right thing by leaving the man she loved because his brother had compromised her.
 
And then, she had turned away from the life of relative comfort the duke had offered her on the estate, because she rightly feared what he might attempt if she remained within his reach.

He wondered if she even told Edmund the real reasons behind the broken engagement.
 
Somehow, he doubted it, for the tone of Edmund’s letter had been calm.
 

Clarendon decided his brother deserved to know what had happened—and if that meant he lost Edmund’s love and respect, so be it.
 
At least he would have been honest.
 
And perhaps that way, Edmund would not blame himself for what had happened.

Good God, what have I done?
 
He stared at the passing countryside, self-recriminations souring the coffee in his belly.

So much for his wonderful plans for a new beginning.
 
Part of him simply wanted to give up and go back to his old ways in the hopes that maybe this time around he’d succeed in getting himself killed somehow along the way.

But thinking of Miss Merriweather, he knew he couldn’t do that.
 
She cared deeply about the estates and the tenants.
 
To fall back into his old way of life would be to betray her once again—as well as his father, and ultimately, himself.
 

He already knew he couldn’t do that, no matter how much of a mess he had made of things.
 
But, how could he begin to seek Miss Merriweather’s forgiveness?

It was already early evening when they arrived in London.
 
Edmund awaited them at the family townhouse.
 
To Clarendon’s relief, the duchess had pronounced herself undone by all this excitement and taken to her rooms.

“I questioned the staff and determined that Tina asked to be dropped off at the nearest coaching inn.
 
She gave the driver some story about having persuaded us it would make the most sense for her to travel by public transport.
 
Something about an ailing friend, which I can only assume is a fabrication, as she mentioned nothing of it to me,” Edmund sighed, shaking his head.
 
“I never once suspected she’d go off like that.”

He sat down and rubbed his face with his hands.
 

Clarendon continued his pacing.
 
“Have you questioned the people at the coach stop?”

“Not yet.
 
I was awaiting your arrival so we could follow up there in person,” Edmund replied.
 

“No need for both of us to go.
 
I’ll have the driver take me.
 
You and Miss Fielding can wait here in case some news arrives,” Clarendon declared, striding out of the room without giving them an opportunity to respond or object.

Once the duke had gone, Georgiana Fielding breathed a silent sigh of relief.
 
Though he was certainly as handsome as rumor claimed, he did not seem a particularly easy man.
 
She found him altogether alarming.
 
She wondered how he and Miss Merriweather had dealt together, given that she also found Miss Merriweather a little alarming—though in a far nicer and more likeable sort of way.
 

She also wondered at what could have happened between Lord Edmund and Miss Merriweather to precipitate the ending of their engagement in such an abrupt manner.
 
Of course, his lordship looked distraught about it all—no doubt he was bereft at the loss of his beloved, followed by her disappearance.
 
Still, unlike the duke, who could only have known Miss Merriweather a few days, Lord Edmund hadn’t forgotten his manners.

Even when they arrived, it had been Lord Edmund who greeted her and offered her a seat, in spite of the fact that he was clearly in a state of agitation.
 
She watched him now as he took his brother’s place pacing the room.
 
She wanted to go over and stroke the worry from his expression.
 

Georgiana sighed.
 
She hoped they would find Miss Merriweather—certainly, she would do everything in her power to help in the search.
 
But, she did secretly pray that finding her would not elicit a reconciliation between the parted lovers.
 
Though she knew it was ridiculous, she had been secretly in love with the handsome younger son of the Somersby family for years.
 
Almost as long as she could remember.
 
To her, he embodied all the qualities of a true nobleman: handsome, intelligent, kind and so very chivalrous.

She had eagerly accepted his fond, impersonal kindness, all the while wishing that he might finally see her as a woman, rather than one of Sir Roland’s children.
 
But she knew that was a hopeless aspiration, for Lord Edmund clearly loved the magnificent Miss Merriweather, who was everything Georgiana was not.

She must have sighed more loudly than she realized, for Lord Edmund started and glanced towards her.
 

“Miss Fielding!
 
I’m so sorry, I had for—“ he shook his head, summoning up a distracted smile.
 
“My thoughts are a little scattered at the moment.”

“Of course, Lord Edmund.
 
They would be, naturally enough, under the circumstances.
 
Please tell me if there’s anything at all I can do to help.”

“You’re very kind,” he said absently.
 
“So how is it that you managed to get pulled into all this?
 
Clarendon said something about your thinking Tina had taken a position somewhere?”

She nodded.
 
“Yes.
 
Miss Merriweather asked me if I knew of anyone in need of a governess or a paid companion.
 
I provided her with several names.
 
This was before your proposal, of course,” she added hastily, then flushed with embarrassment, wondering if she had been indiscreet to mention the engagement when it now appeared to be ended.

“Of course.”
 
He nodded encouragingly.

“The duke was anxious to reach London as quickly as possible, so he had me accompany him in order to furnish you with a list of the names and addresses I had passed to Miss Merriweather.”

Lord Edmund shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips as he sighed.
 
“Well then, I must apologize on behalf of my brother—he is clearly not himself at the moment.
 
He could just as easily have waited, or had you prepare the list with a messenger at the ready to bring it to us.
 
So, I will ask you to pardon this inconvenience.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she blurted, for she had never before had the opportunity to speak with Lord Edmund in private.
 
Of course, she wouldn’t have minded even if such were not the case, but this time with him was ample compensation for any inconvenience caused.
 
Though naturally, she could not say such a thing.
 
“I only hope I can be of some help in determining Miss Merriweather’s whereabouts.
 
I’m sure you must be very anxious to know she is unharmed.”

The worry settled back onto his features.
 
“I am indeed.”
 
He let out a slow breath.
 
“At any rate, we will do whatever we can to ensure you are comfortable here, and if you have need of anything at all, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”
 
Georgiana smiled up at him, charmed by his concern for her welfare, despite the fact that he was clearly beset by worry over his beloved’s whereabouts.
 
She cleared her throat.
 
“Perhaps a pen and some paper?
 
So I can write the names?”

Lord Edmund flashed her a grin.
 
“Of course!
 
I’ll have some brought immediately.
 
I was also going to ring for some tea.
 
Would you be so good as to join me in partaking of some refreshment?
 
I suspect we’re both in need of it.”

Georgiana accepted gratefully and vowed to herself that she would cherish these moments with his lordship.
 
They were likely to be the only ones she would ever have in his exclusive company, and she intended to commit each one to memory so she could revisit them in times to come, for this morning Sally, her abigail, had passed on the news that Lord Edmund planned to go to India.
 
The thought left her devastated, and part of the reason she had chosen to call at the manor today was in the hopes of learning more about his lordship’s plans.

She straightened at the recollection.
 
After all, she would be a fool to pass up an opportunity to ascertain the real situation from the source himself.
 
“Lord Edmund, I understand you plan to go to India?
 
I should very much like to hear more about your plans, though if you are not currently in the mood to discuss such things, I understand.”

Despite its weariness, his lordship’s smile warmed her.
 
She duly catalogued the moment even as she basked in it.
 
“On the contrary, Miss Fielding, I’m happy to talk about it.
 
Truth to tell, it will provide a welcome distraction.”

By the time Clarendon returned, Miss Fielding had already retired for the night.
 
Edmund had enjoyed the distraction her conversation provided—he was pleasantly surprised to discover she had not turned into some insipid young miss, but was actually possessed of a quick and incisive intellect below her reticent manner.
 
Nonetheless, he had been unable to relax and enjoy their talk because of his nagging concern over Tina’s whereabouts.