The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4) Read online

  But she was gone.

  It had taken much of the afternoon and into the evening to get the stable fires under control. They had not lost a single animal, but the damage had been extensive. He would need to rebuild everything, but at least the house had not been even remotely harmed, and animals and staff were all accounted for. He had gone up before even cleaning up to assure Annalise that it was all well and to see that she had not worried too much only to discover her room empty.

  He had checked every other room in the house, literally, and found her nowhere.

  A search had commenced, and not a single soul had seen her leave, no one had been admitted to the house, and none of her things had been taken or were missing. On the contrary, everything was where it should be.

  Except for her.

  All he had found was a note, tear stained and barely legible, but there. Two words were all it said.

  Forgive me.

  Those words told him nothing, gave him no comfort. On the contrary, his heart felt frozen in his chest. Her ring, the one he had spent ages agonizing over for their false engagement, lay next to the note.

  There could be no further proof of her absence than that.

  Forgive her?

  It was already done.

  Whatever it was, wherever she had gone, no matter the severity or depravity, she was forgiven.

  She would always be forgiven.

  But even that did nothing to help him.

  Tibby and Marianne had bombarded him with questions, Marianne had even gone so far as to screech that this was what ought to be expected if they were to bring someone from such a low station to such heights, saying ridiculous things such as how ungrateful Annie was, how undeserving this proved Annie to be, how deceived they all had been by Annie. Always calling her Annie.

  She was not Annie. She was Annalise.

  His Annalise.

  He had never wanted to throttle his sister before, but her words gave him opportunity to explore the idea.

  Thankfully, Tibby had whirled and bellowed, “Shut up and go away, Marianne, if all you intend is to spread poison. If you say one more word about her, I shall remove you from my will and you will be cut off without a penny to your ridiculous name!”

  Marianne had burst into tears, and Duncan had been in too ill a temper to soothe her. He had turned from them both and shut himself up in his study, where he had remained the rest of the night. He sat there now, staring at nothing, no idea what to do, or how to proceed from here.

  The clock on a shelf chimed four o’clock in the morning. Was that all? He would have thought it closer to dawn.

  He pushed himself out of his chair and opened the door to the study, only to find Lancelot there. The pug rarely left Annalise’s side, and never gave Duncan the time of day. But now he jumped up and looked up at Duncan eagerly, curled tail wagging.

  He grunted and moved past the dog down the hall. He didn’t know where he was going until he reached his destination. The library. It held most of his favorite memories with Annalise. The fire was only embers now, and he suddenly needed the room blazing with light and warmth. He went over and began using the tools to prod it, to brighten it. He added another two logs, and soon the grand fireplace was alight with all its intended glory.

  The room was not any less dreary to him.

  There, on that rug, is where he had given his first reading lesson to her. Her voice had been so hesitant, so uncertain and weak. But as time went on, she grew in both ability and confidence, until they were no longer reading aloud, but sitting in contented silence in chairs, each with their own books. The silence had been filled with contentment and peace, never once awkward.

  He had imagined her sitting across his lap in one of those chairs, imagined her content to just be with him, playing absently with her hair as he read, her nuzzling against him happily.

  Here he had fallen in love with her.

  Oh, there were several other times and places where he had found himself in love, where he had been stunned by her, amused by her, thrilled by her, but here in this room is where he really came to see what a magnificent creature she was. Here is where he had come to know her as he had never known another human being. Here he had found what he had not known he wanted.

  Lancelot whined next to him, and Duncan glared down at the animal. “She’s not here,” he growled, shooing the animal with his boot. “Go hang about someone else.”

  He went to the hearth and leaned against it, staring into the fire.

  Why would she have left him? What had he said, what had he done? Had it been too much attention on his part? Had he offered too much without actually offering anything at all? Should he have said more, done more, been more?

  Or had she never wanted it at all?

  She had never told him what she really wanted. He had forced all this upon her. He had given her choices, yes, but never really a voice. What had she wanted? Any number of men could have given her a better life than her old one. What could he possibly offer her that no one else could?

  His love, perhaps, but what was his love worth? He would give her everything he owned if she asked it, would give her himself without explanation or question. But what would be gained by it?

  She would never ask for anything.

  She was just proud enough for that.

  If she had known how he felt, what he felt, what she meant to him, would she still have left? Or would that have been enough?

  Why was he not enough?

  Why had she left?

  So many questions swirled about, and there were no answers to be found.

  The clacking of paws met his ears and he glanced down to find the pug licking at his boot, then looking up at him with sad eyes.

  “You miss her, too, don’t you?” he murmured.

  The dog whined as if in response.

  Duncan sank down and scratched the dog behind his ears, allowing himself a brief smile when he received a nuzzle and a lick in return. “I don’t know where she went,” he told Lancelot, “and I don’t know why. I thought she was happy. I thought… Well, I thought a lot of things. Didn’t say any of them. I should have said them.”

  “Duncan?”

  He rose to his feet to find Marianne at the door to the library, her hair rumpled and down, nightgown and wrap tightly cinched, and a shawl about her shoulders.

  “Minnow, what are you doing awake?” he asked softly gesturing for her to come to him.

  She sniffled and came to take his hand. “I haven’t been asleep,” she whispered, her voice filled with tears. “I’m a horrible creature, and I think I am the reason… That she…”

  “You think you are the reason Annalise left?”

  She nodded and a few tears fell from her eyes.

  He lifted her chin to look at him. “You aren’t. I’m the one to blame here. You’ve done nothing.”

  “Yes, I have,” she insisted. “I was horrible. I wouldn’t help her in Society, I stuck to my own crowd and airs and let her know I didn’t approve. What sort of a creature am I?”

  He sighed and pulled his sister against him. “Marianne, she forgave you for that. She knew you as I do, that you have a sweet heart and generous spirit. You are not to blame.”

  “Neither are you.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “I have been thinking it over all night, and I cannot sleep because of it.”

  “Over what?”

  Marianne took his hand and squeezed it hard. “She wouldn’t just leave, Duncan. Not Annalise. Something is very wrong.”

  He didn’t miss that she called her Annalise, not Annie. He knew his sister loved her, had known it all along. She merely had a different way of showing it. He wished he could give her some comfort, but he had none.

  He shook his head slowly. “Nobody came into the house, Marianne. They didn’t take her.”

  “But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t forced. Just… look deeper? Please?”

  He looked at his sister for a long moment, wondering that her thou
ghts had been so close to his own. He found himself nodding. “All right. If you think so.”

  “I do,” she said firmly, her tears gone. “And if you will get out of your own way, you will think so too.”

  She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, then left the room.

  Duncan heaved a heavy sigh and tried to force his emotions back. Logic must take precedence here, not his heart. His heart was broken and breaking, in no condition to help him. He needed to consider the facts, what he knew of Annalise, of the situation, and of her sudden flight.

  He had not even informed his friends yet.

  Perhaps that was a mistake, but there was nothing for it now.

  He looked at Lancelot, who seemed to sense a change in him. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

  And he went to the one place he swore to never enter again.

  Her room.

  The closet was open still, all her dresses hanging neatly in a coordinated row. Her bed sat perfect and pristine, covers not the slightest bit wrinkled. The dress she had worn earlier still lay on the floor. He bent to pick it up, and found several pieces of paper underneath. He frowned and laid them out on the table nearest him.

  A soft growl met his ears and he turned to find Lancelot sniffing at one of the pelisses. He moved to it, instinctively searching the pockets. He found four letters, all very short and unsigned, in the same scrawling handwriting that the letter had been. The messages upon them were not pleasant.

  You can’t fool me.

  Lies will be brought to light.

  Come to me or suffer the consequences.

  I’m warning you.

  A cold shiver ran up his spine and he turned to the letter on the table, suddenly feeling as though he had been kicked in the chest.

  He noticed three crumpled up pages beneath the table. He grabbed for them and smoothed them out. Each had been blurred by tears, and each was addressed to him. Not even a single sentence had been completed, but each begged for forgiveness and understanding.

  He swallowed hard and moved to the pieces of letter on the table, assembling them quickly. His brows snapped firmly together and a thundercloud grew within him. He knew whose mischief this was, whose fault this really was.

  Thorpe.

  The threat in the letter was enough to make him seethe.

  He pulled the last remaining letter from his waist coat pocket, the one he had read hundreds of times in the last several hour, the short two words written in the hand he loved so well.

  Forgive me.

  He shut his eyes and groaned, clutching the paper in his fist. He was the greatest fool that had ever lived.

  He tore from the room and ran to his study. Taking four sheets of paper, he wrote exactly the same message on each, and after rousing four of his servants and paying them more than he ought, they rode off to each of his friends.

  Duncan paced anxiously in his study while the minutes ticked by. He could not ride off on his own, not when such men had such power over the woman he loved. He would need reinforcements, and ones he could trust.

  Colin arrived first, hardly decent, but determined. Duncan showed him the notes from Thorpe, and he gaped.

  “The inn at Trafalgar?” Colin repeated, looking up at him. “There is no inn at Trafalgar!”

  “I know.”

  Colin’s mouth thinned to a compressed line. “On it.” He spun from the room at a faster pace than he had arrived.

  Each of the others came and scattered on various errands, asking no questions, just offering everything they had.

  He would owe more debt than he could ever repay when this was all done.

  As the dawn began to rise, they each returned, and the news was not good.

  “Thorpe has checked out of his lodgings,” Geoff reported upon his entrance.

  “And a coach was rented from the station to take him and his companions to some northern destination, exact location undisclosed,” Nathan added.

  Derek rubbed at his hair and winced. “No news has been reported to or by the gossips regarding Miss Anne Remington or yourself, they know nothing. The fire brigade agrees with your suspicions that the fire was intentional, and you already interviewed your staff; they saw nothing and no one.”

  Duncan nodded, and waited for Colin, who was as breathless as if he had run all the streets of London on foot.

  “A young woman matching Annalise’s description was seen being forced into a carriage in Trafalgar Square,” he panted, hands on his knees. “No one could positively identify her, but they said she was screaming.”

  Duncan moaned and rubbed his hands into his eyes.

  “Also…”

  He looked up at Colin, who suddenly had fire blazing in his eyes. “Our mutual friend said he could not stop the escape, much as he tried.” He spat the words and wiped a hand across his lips. “Our friend also says he overheard Thorpe threatening to lash her within an inch of her life before he could claim what belonged to him. He thought you might want to know that and offers you a significant amount of power from the very highest of sources should you choose to act upon his information.”

  A barbaric roar was ripped from Duncan’s chest and he barreled from the room and made for the stables, his friends hard on his heels.

  He did not care about power or prestige, his life or his wealth, or anything in this world but getting to Annalise.

  He had no doubt where she was or with whom, or what she would endure if he did not get there fast. There were also no limits as to what he would endure to get her back. He had only just realized how much he needed her, he was not willing to give her up. Especially to a man who did not appreciate, nor deserve her.

  And no one took what was his.

  No one.

  “What if we’re too late?” Colin asked, for once being the voice of reason.

  “I don’t care,” he snarled, taking the reins from his servant. “I’ll take her to the continent and live in hiding for the rest of my life if I have to. But she is not staying with them. I don’t care.”

  “Neither do we, Duncan,” Nathan said, already atop his horse.

  The rest nodded firmly, eyes serious and determined.

  “Whatever happens,” he said, looking at them all, “know that I will never be able to thank you enough for your friendship and loyalty.”

  Colin snorted and tossed his head. “Enough with the emotional nonsense. We have a long ride and no time. In your lady’s honor, Duncan, I insist on the pleasure of thrashing someone.”

  “Get in line,” the rest chorused in unison.

  Duncan laughed without mirth.

  “Come on, Duncan,” Derek said with a nudge of his head. “Your woman, you lead the charge.”

  He turned his horse about and faced the dawn. With a harsh bellow, he kicked his heels into Balthazar, and all the horses whinnied at once as they took off for the most important ride of his entire life.

  Chapter Twenty One

  I t was the longest day and a half of his life.

  It would have been much worse, had he come alone. But his friends were just as determined, and they encouraged him when his doubts and fears took control. They had stopped twice to briefly rest and take nourishment, but they were not long at all. Their strength and energy was starting to fade, and he was beginning to feel it.

  His mind was not as clear, his instincts not as sharp. Thinking was more difficult than it ought to be, and his eyelids heavy. But he had enough willpower and drive within him to fight on. He would not stop until he had Annalise in his arms again, safe and sound and knowing she was loved.

  There was not a word of complaint from any of the group. In fact, other than necessity dictated, they did not speak at all. He was grateful for that. His thoughts were too complex and muddled for comprehension, attempting words or conversation would have put him to the end of his wits. He knew they were all exhausted, all had doubts, and were all primed for the very worst.

  The carriage would m
ake good time, but they would also have to stop and change horses, at the very least. Colin had figured the very soonest they could have arrived would have been two days after their departure, which would put them at last night, if not early this morning. If that were the case, then all was not lost. They had not come across any hint of them yet, so they could only assume their drive to reach the end was as urgent as theirs.

  Would his intentions be righteous enough to ensure success? At this moment, he would not have blinked if marrying her had been impossible, or if he had to never see her again. If he could only save her, this last time, from ever being hurt or threatened again, that would be enough. If she could be ensured of a good life, safe and warm and well, he would be content.

  Miserable forever, it was true, but he would accept that.

  In all the good deeds he had ever done, never had he wished for payment in kind.

  He would take all of the positive debt accrued at this moment, just for her.

  Hold on, my love, he thought frantically as he urged Balthazar on. Hold on.

  They began to come across sights more familiar to him, things that were both encouraging and discouraging. The roads he had travelled with her, taking her away from her past and into the future, not knowing what would follow, only that he had to do something. Memories from the days when she had only been a beautiful stranger he simply had to help, who had captivated his thoughts and made him act irrationally.

  Had he loved her from the start?

  Nathan and Derek had taken up the responsibility to pick up information as best as they could along the way, and he heard their reports, but rarely responded. He knew they were on the right path. He knew they were close.

  He knew she was in danger.

  All too soon, her village was upon them, and for the first time in the last thirty-six to forty-eight hours, he realized that he did not know where to go once he was here. He looked at his friends in abject horror and confusion.

  “What?” Derek asked, looking worried.

  Duncan shook his head. “I don’t know where to go. I found her in a random spot of country, I couldn’t find it again without help. I…” Panic began to rise within him and he looked around frantically, but there was no one about in the small, snow covered village.