He stood next to the cabriolet and held her hand, needing the comfort of her touch. “I’d ask you to come, but this is definitely not something you should witness.” He was angry, true, but also deeply hurt by Frank’s betrayal. Perhaps feeling so pained by his cousin’s duplicity was silly. They weren’t as close as adults as they’d been as children, but with Piers gone, Frank was the closest he had to a brother.
“I understand,” she said, with a squeeze of his hand. “I know it sounds odd, especially given how distrustful I’ve been of your cousin, but it is possible this is just some issue that they’ve gotten past. Or perhaps we’re misunderstanding the matter.”
Would she ever stop surprising him? Val wondered, his eyes drinking in her hopeful expression. “I’m not sure how that could be possible,” he said, “given that there is obviously another man involved, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Then perhaps you won’t be quite so annoyed by my suggestion that we tell Kate and Eversham about the note?” She looked uncomfortable, but her jaw was set in familiar determination. “I know you wish to speak to Mr. Thorn. And I don’t wish to stop you, but if there is a chance he is responsible, they should know. Scotland Yard may not be investigating the disappearance officially, but if Mr. Thorn did hurt her, then they’ll have to become involved.”
Val closed his eyes. She was right, of course. If Frank had harmed Miss Warrington, then he was a criminal. His kinship to a duke might protect him from some of the harsher aspects of the system—he would likely not hang, even if he had murdered her—but he would suffer the same indignities as the other men were subjected to every day. And it would only be fair.
Unable to speak, he opened his eyes to find Caro watching him. “Shall I drive you to your house?” she asked softly.
But he was in no mood for company. Even hers.
“I’ll walk.” The chance to collect his thoughts before confronting Frank would do him good. “But thank you for the offer.”
She frowned briefly but didn’t protest. “Will I see you later?”
He looked at her blankly.
“You were meant to speak with my father this afternoon,” she said patiently. “And then we were going to speak to the Duke of Langham.”
Damn it. He’d forgotten about both Langham and his meeting with Hardcastle. But the world didn’t stop because he’d learned something damning. “If the discussion with Frank comes to nothing, I’ll come directly to your house afterward,” he assured her, lifting her into the cabriolet.
He didn’t add that if his talk with his cousin resulted differently, then her parents might not be quite so eager to welcome him into the family.
He watched as she took the reins from the groom, then expertly steered her horses into the street. When she glanced back, he raised a hand in farewell.
When he turned to walk in the opposite direction toward home, Val could feel dread nipping at his heels like a vicious cur chasing him into chaos.
Chapter Twelve
When Caro arrived home, the Hardcastle butler, Newton, informed her that Kate and her assistant at The London Gazette, Miss Flora Deaver, had called in her absence. They were being entertained by her mother in the lady’s favorite sitting room.
After removing her hat and gloves, she hurried upstairs, just in time for the arrival of the tea tray.
“There you are,” her mother said with relief. “I told Lady Katherine and Miss Deaver you would be along soon, but I never quite know when you are racketing about in your cabriolet. Though you were with your betrothed, so I could not be overly concerned.”
Caro supposed she should be glad her mother was too pleased with the engagement to question too closely how or why it had come about. Though it was possible that she would have rejoiced even if Caro had become betrothed at the point of a shotgun so long as the prospective bridegroom possessed a title.
“I left word that I would be back before luncheon.” Caro kissed her mother on the cheek. “And here I am, just in time for the morning tea tray.”
“Did not Lord Wrackham come in with you?” Her mother looked at the doorway, as if expecting Val to materialize at any moment.
“No.” Caro took a seat between her mother’s chair and the settee upon which Kate and Flora sat. “He said he’d be back later this afternoon to speak with Papa.”
“As well he should,” her mother said primly. “He was naughty to ask before speaking with your father, but I suppose you are of age, so there’s no harm in it.”
“You have my felicitations, Caro,” said Flora. She had watched the interplay between mother and daughter with interest from behind her spectacles. She was a pretty young woman with golden blonde hair and a calm manner. Ludwig, Caro’s Siamese, had found her soothing from the moment he’d met her when Caro first brought him along with her to the offices of The London Gazette. In fact, the cat was so taken with the girl that she was the only one he would tolerate as a caretaker outside of Caro, and now Caro relied on her whenever she had to be away from town. “I understand it was quite a surprise.”
Her half smile told Caro that Kate had explained the unusual circumstances behind the engagement.
Beaming, Caro’s mother rose. “Now that Caro is here, I will leave you young ladies to chat in private. I have much to do to prepare for the wedding. Once the announcement reaches the papers, we’ll have so little time to prepare!”
Caro really should assert herself with regard to the wedding plans, but she would rather speak with Kate and Flora for now. After Val had spoken with Papa, they could discuss their preferences for the ceremony.
Once Mama had shut the parlor door behind her, Caro turned to her guests. “I hope your presence here means Eversham has had news.”
“I’m afraid not.” Kate sighed. “He was quite right that his superiors would be keener on searching for the carriage’s thieves than they’d be to find Effie. But the good news on that score is that they are doing their best to find any witnesses on the abandonment of the carriage. So perhaps we’ll have news from that soon.”
Caro sighed. “I suppose that’s something.”
“You and Lord Wrackham went to speak with Lord Tate this morning?” Flora asked.
At Caro’s questioning look, the young woman explained, “I asked Kate if I could be involved in the investigation into Effie’s disappearance. We’ve forged a friendship through the salon, as you know. And I simply could not sit by and do nothing while she is missing.”
“Excellent.” Caro slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet up beneath her. Kate and Flora were good enough friends that she knew they would have no objections, and after witnessing Val’s emotional reaction to Mr. Thorn’s letter, she badly needed the comfort. “I don’t mind telling you, Flora, that we need all the help we can get. Every time I think we’ve got a handle on this business, something else happens to throw us into chaos again.”
“Tell us what you learned from Lord Tate,” Kate pressed her. “I’ve been waiting to hear all morning.”
“I’m afraid it was what we learned at Effie’s house after our interview with Tate that may be most important at the moment,” Caro said, then told them about both the bit of sealing wax and the letter Mrs. Spencer had found from Mr. Thorn to Effie.