Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) (21 page)

“Faith,” he whispered against those dewy petals. “Can you not find a little faith?”

“No more than you can lie.”

Why did she have to be so blasted stubborn? Would she really throw everything good away for the sake of a single forgotten moment? Was her pride—or whatever it was that drove her—more important than her future? Than him?

He tamped down hard on his rising anger and tried to reason with her. “And if you should find yourself back in Belfast with a growing belly?”

By her look of surprise, he gathered she had not thought of such an eventuality. “I…Surely not.”

As for him, he had no intention of fathering a bastard. “You would not be the first woman to be surprised by such an event, Gina. A hasty marriage two or three months from now would have society counting the arrival of our first-born on their fingers. Is that what you want? “

“No, but…I did not mean for any of this to happen. What we did—” She stopped to sigh and start again. “My mother has already lost one daughter forever, and two to marriage. All she wants is to go home. I cannot delay her further.”

“If your mind is made up, Eugenia, I will not beg. But, should I find out in the future that you have given birth and not given me the chance to make it right, there will be hell to pay.” He took her elbow and led her back to the ballroom. He had to control his anger before he said something he would regret, but with her name on Henley’s list, he could not leave her where she was vulnerable. Once inside, he gave her a formal bow and left her.

G
ina wavered between grief and anger. How could she leave Jamie? How could she stay if he would not answer her? His stubborn refusal to say the words that would end her agony of uncertainty infuriated her because, without that answer, she was surely leaving on that ship in the morning. And now she could only watch him join his brothers across the room and feel the emptiness of her life.

And his threat!
Should I find out in the future that you have given birth and not given me the chance to make it right, there will be hell to pay.
Hell to pay? Absurd. But then she realized her hand had gone to cover her belly without her realizing it. Oh, she could not think about that now.

The weight of the pistol in the pockets beneath her gown and the key tied to her corset strings reminded her what she had to do. Tonight was her last chance to find justice for Cora. And for herself.

“You are looking quite thunderous, Miss O’Rourke.”

She turned to find Georgiana Huffington standing beside
her and forced a smile. “Really? I was only thinking of all I have yet to do before I can leave tomorrow.”

“I wish we had met sooner, Miss O’Rourke. I think we might have been friends. As it is, we shall have to be content with friends in common. I called upon Christina Race today. I wished to condole with her over the loss of her fiancé. Mourning is something I have had a fair amount of experience with.”

“Did you find her well?”

“Melancholy, but fit enough. She gave me a message for you.” The woman handed her a folded paper.

Her curiosity was piqued. “Will you excuse me a moment, Mrs. Huffington?” She did not wait for a reply before she unfolded the page and scanned the lines, barely pausing to note that it had not been sealed.

Gina’s head spun. Missy Metcalfe? She did not particularly like the girl, but could Missy have fallen for Mr. Henley’s superficial charm? Been so deeply under his spell that she had lost all restraint and good judgment?

Mrs. Huffington placed her hand on Gina’s arm. “Are you well, Miss O’Rourke? You’ve gone quite pale.”

“Yes. Yes, I am fine. I must thank you for bringing this to me so promptly. I may yet be able to use it.”

The woman blushed. “I confess I read it. My curious nature is my greatest failing. I do not know what any of it means, but I fear it could mean danger for you.”

Gina shrugged. There was only one way to find that out. She gathered reassurance from the weight of the pistol in her pocket. “I must speak to Miss Metcalfe at once. Do you know where she lives?”

Mrs. Huffington’s green eyes widened. “Is that wise, Miss O’Rourke? Surely, in view of Christina’s letter—”

“I really have no choice, Mrs. Huffington. She may be the only one who can help me find the answer to a question.”

The woman seemed to consider this for a moment, and then made a decision. “I saw Missy here earlier. Shockingly, I have seen her at other fetes since her brother’s death. I do not know what she is after, but she makes me very nervous, indeed.”

“Here? Where?”

“In the gardens. As if she were waiting for someone.”

Gina glanced at the terrace doors. Did her answer lie on
the other side? She had taken several steps in that direction when Mrs. Huffington halted her with a hand on her arm.

“Oh, please, Miss O’Rourke, I do not think this is wise.”

Most likely not, but how long could it take to wheedle an answer from Missy Metcalfe? “If I have not come back inside within half an hour, please inform Mr. James Hunter of what I’ve done.”

Mrs. Huffington watched her leave, a worried look on her face. As Gina turned to close the terrace doors behind her, the girl was already turning to Jamie. Pray she did not tell him soon enough to frighten Miss Metcalfe off before she’d gotten the information she needed.

Quite alone on the terrace, she went the few steps down into the garden, shivering in the cold and wondering if Missy might have watched her and James kiss earlier. She strolled conspicuously down the center path to a fountain, then sat on the edge, contemplating the various paths that converged there.

The rustle of skirts alerted her and she looked around to the path behind her and schooled her face to unconcern. Yes. It was Missy, cloaked in mourning black. “Good evening, Miss Metcalfe.”

“As I live and breathe, Miss O’Rourke. What are you doing alone in the garden?”

“Thinking of you, actually. I was just given a letter from Miss Race, explaining that you might be able to help me.”

The light from a nearby lantern fell on Missy’s face as she sat beside Gina. She was undeniably beautiful, but there was something secretive in her smile. “I shall be pleased to help you in any way you require, Miss O’Rourke.”

“Excellent. Then can you tell me where I might be able to find Mr. Henley?”

“La! How should I know that?”

“Miss Race said you knew him quite well.”

“Did she? Then I am amazed she has not asked me. Why, just this afternoon when we had tea, she told me she had a message for you and asked if I would deliver it.”

Gina could not hide her surprise at this. Two messages from Christina? “Do you have it with you?”

“She would not trust it to be written, but bade me deliver it in person. That is the reason I am here. I pray I am not too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“Why, to warn you against Mrs. Huffington.”

How very curious! “Does she mean me some harm?”

Missy stood and took Gina’s hand, drawing her to her feet. “Christina did not know for certain, but she felt you should not trust her. She said that Mrs. Huffington is…well,
involved
with Mr. Henley, and that you have been looking for him. She seemed to be concerned that you might believe lies the woman might tell. Has she talked to you, Miss O’Rourke? Told you anything that you might find difficult to believe?”

Mrs. Huffington? Involved with Mr. Henley? Could it be possible? She proceeded cautiously. “We exchanged pleasantries. No more.”

Missy sighed. “Thank heavens she has not filled your head with falsehoods.”

“What could she possibly say? And why would she want to mislead me?”

“Who knows, Miss O’Rourke. ‘Tis rumored she had something to do with her husbands’ demises. And the woman is an incorrigible liar. Perhaps she is trying to protect Mr. Henley. But what Christina told you is true—I may know how to find Mr. Henley.”

Gina’s heart beat so rapidly that she feared it might beat out of her chest. She squeezed Missy’s hand. “Now? Could you tell me where he is now? “

“Perhaps we could find him if we leave immediately.”

“I shall just fetch my cloak and—”

“No time. We must hurry if we are to catch him. ‘Tis now or never, Miss O’Rourke.”

“But where is he?”

“There are several places he might be.”

Was Missy the liar? Or Georgiana Huffington? Or could Christina, herself, have misled her in both directions?

“Are you coming, Miss O’Rourke?”

‘Tis now or never, Miss O’Rourke….

“How long ago?”

“I…Half an hour. She said to wait half an hour before telling you.”

Jamie cursed and raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to shake Mrs. Huffington, but she couldn’t have known the danger Gina was in. “Did she say where they might have gone?”

“No. I brought a letter to her from Miss Race. She read it, and when I mentioned Missy Metcalfe was in the garden, she went there immediately. I was to tell you only if she hadn’t come back within half an hour. Before I came to you, I looked outside, Mr. Hunter, and neither of them were in the garden.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Huffington. If you will excuse me.” He bowed and went to the foyer, signaling Wycliffe along the way. The footman brought their coats and Jamie waited until they had entered the street before he spoke.

“Miss O’Rourke has gone missing.”

Wycliffe’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You jest.”

Jamie did not deign to answer what was surely a rhetorical question. “The question is where she has got to.”

“Ideas?”

“A few. First, we shall call on Miss Race.”

“Christina Race? What has she to do with all this?”

“Likely nothing beyond her connection to Stanley Metcalfe. But Mrs. Huffington said she’d given Gina a note from Miss Race, and Gina had gone off to the garden almost immediately. Something is afoot, Marcus. She was angry with me, but I don’t think she’d have gone with Missy unless she thought she had matters well in hand. I’m hoping Miss Race will know where they might have gone.”

“Give me time to summon the watch.”

“To hell with the watch. Get Devlin and my brothers. Catch up with me at Miss Race’s.”

She’d known before they arrived where they were going. There it was, rising out of the fog. The Ballinger estate, the spire of its eerie chapel rising like a stake from the heart of the grounds. The very place she’d been going to come tonight with her little key after everyone had retired.

Would she find, at last, the door it opened? Missy guided her through the iron gate and to a path that curved around the house and led to the chapel.

The pistol in the pocket that lay against Gina’s thigh comforted her. “Do you think he’s here?”

“If he is not here now, he will come soon. He…Christina said this is his favorite place.”

She shivered with more than the cold. Christina, indeed! Henley loved this place because it was the scene of all his debaucheries. The scene of her disgrace. Her hand went to her throat as she paused at the chapel door.

“Come, Gina. It will be warmer inside,” Missy cajoled.

She stepped into a small vestibule, waiting for a memory or a feeling of familiarity, but nothing came. She must have been unconscious or heavily drugged when she’d been brought here.

Missy lit a candle, opened another door and nodded for
Gina to precede her into the vestry. Black cowls hung on pegs and were scattered on the floor, and an overturned bench gave testament to the chaos of that long-ago night.

A bone-deep chill seeped through her. Anxious to dispel the aura of evil, she passed through the vestry to the nave. A barren altar lay ahead of her, and in front of that, a red rug thrown back from an open trapdoor.

Her stomach clenched. Though she had no memory of it, she knew she had been carried down those wooden steps into the inky darkness below. She slipped her hand into the slit in her seam to accommodate the pocket and gripped the handle of the pistol, taking comfort from the fact that, this time, she was prepared to defend herself.

Missy passed her and opened a door behind the altar—the sacristy, where vestments and sacred vessels were kept. She retrieved a pewter chalice and a bottle of sacramental wine. “I am parched, Gina. Mr. Henley is obviously not here yet. Shall we have a sip of communion wine?” She giggled as she poured the wine into the chalice.

Gina looked down into the chamber beneath the trap door. “Are you certain he is not here? He could be down there.”

“Nonsense. Had he heard us, he would have come up. We shall have time for a drink before we go below to wait for him.”

“How will he know to look for us there?”

“He. I have heard he lives down there.” She busied herself placing the chalice on the altar and pouring a generous measure of wine into it.

The list Mr. Renquist had found!
Candles, tinderbox, blanket, wine.
They’d suspected Mr. Henley was setting up new quarters, and so he had. Ah, but Missy had known it, too. And now Gina knew what she had to do.

Miss Race entered her sitting room, a look of astonishment on her pretty face and her parents behind her. “Mr. Hunter, Lord Wycliffe. What…How can I help you?”

Jamie wondered how much her parents knew about the events that had led them there. He had no wish to cause trouble for her, but he needed information quickly. No time to cozen or cajole. “Miss O’Rourke is missing, Miss Race. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

Her dark eyes widened and her hand went to her heart. “No! Oh, I pray he has not got her.”

“Who, Miss Race?” Wycliffe asked.

“Mr. Henley, of course. She was looking for him, but I have prayed that she would not find him. It can mean nothing but trouble for her if she does. Stanley said …”

Jamie remembered the list of names in Henley’s writing and finished for her. “He said Miss O’Rourke was in grave danger, did he not?”

Miss Race nodded. “Stanley said Mr. Henley considered her ‘unfinished business.’“

“Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Where she might have followed him?”

“I fear not. She called upon me yesterday, and I thought she was going back to Ireland. When Georgiana called today, she did not mention her. Well, but I asked Georgie to give Miss O’Rourke a message for me.”

Jamie tamed his sense of urgency. “What did it say?”

Miss Race blushed and glanced over her shoulder at her mother and father, then squared her shoulders in a way so like Gina that his heart twisted. “I told her that Stanley and I believed that Missy had become Mr. Henley’s secret lover, and that perhaps Missy would have the answers Gina so desperately needed.”