Chapter Twenty-one #2
Maeve pressed a hand to her chest where she’d tucked Mr. Farthington’s money in anticipation of a moment just like this.
Eliza stepped forward, her hand extended.
Maeve recoiled, wishing there was anywhere she could go to escape the woman.
“Take this.” Eliza held out a stack of bills. “Go back to Ireland where you belong.”
Maeve eyed the cash and then looked up at Eliza. “You have nothing I want or need.”
“Suit yourself.” Eliza curled her hand around the wad of cash. “But if I ever see you again, I’ll ruin him. And just for good measure, I’ll make sure everyone who matters here and in New York knows how your first marriage ended. If you think I won’t do it, try me.”
“I have no doubt you’d do it as you’re probably the most heartless human being I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some rather heartless people in my day.”
Eliza’s lips turned white, and her face flushed with fury. “Our business is concluded. Take your leave and don’t come back. Or else.” With that, she unlocked the door and left the room.
As Maeve watched her go, devastation set in.
She would never see Aubrey again. She would never wake up to his beautiful face on the pillow next to hers.
She would never again experience the pure joy of joining her body with his, of kissing his lips or sleeping with his arms around her, keeping her safe and protected.
A sob escaped from her tightly clenched jaw as she forced those thoughts to the back of her mind—for now. There would be a lifetime to mourn what she’d lost. For now, she had to go before he returned and made it impossible for her to leave.
The crush of people standing between Aubrey and the refreshment table frustrated and irritated him. Anxious to get back to Maeve, he excused himself a hundred times before he gave up and began throwing an elbow or two to get through the crowd.
An oomph from next to him had him looking over to apologize to the owner of the gut he’d assaulted. “Mutt! So sorry, chap.”
Matthew rubbed the sore spot on his abdomen. “That’s a rather lethal elbow you’ve got there, Aubrey.”
“My wife is unwell, and I’m trying to get her a glass of water, which is a seemingly impossible mission in this maelstrom.”
“I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been meaning to come by.”
Matthew’s words were somewhat slurred, his puffy face indicative of a protracted bender.
“But I’ve been a little busy. I do need to speak to you somewhat urgently.”
Aubrey cast a glance over his shoulder, noting that the retiring room where he’d left Maeve was now out of sight. “About what?”
Matthew curled a hand around Aubrey’s arm and guided him out of the fray into a dark hallway.
Aubrey wanted to shake off his friend so he could return to Maeve, but Matthew’s tight grip had him staying put. “Whatever it is, Matthew, spit it out. I need to get back to my wife.”
“It’s about her.”
“What is?”
“There was something I didn’t tell you after you sent me to pay off Tornquist. I was going to tell you, but you seemed so . . . happy with her.”
“I am happy with her, and I already know what happened with her former husband. I’m not sure how much you’ve had to drink that you don’t remember—”
“It’s not that. It’s something else.”
A sense of foreboding overtook Aubrey as he noticed Matthew’s speech had lost the slur and his eyes were intently focused.
“Another man who courted her turned up dead, reportedly from poisoning, a year before she married Farthington.”
Aubrey stared at his friend, wondering if he’d heard him correctly.
“I didn’t want to tell you because you were happy, but then I started to worry about something happening to you and how guilty I’d feel if it did.”
“You . . . you think I’m unsafe with her?”
“Men seem to die in her presence, Aubrey. You’d be wise to practice all due vigilance.”
“With my wife? Whom I love and who loves me? I don’t need to be vigilant with her. She’s no threat to me.”
“Two men are dead, Aubrey. You can’t allow love to blind you to the possibility—”
Aubrey held up his hand to stop the man. “Enough. Your conscience is now clear, and I must get back to my wife. Enjoy your evening.”
“Aubrey . . .”
Whatever else Matthew had to say, Aubrey wasn’t listening.
If another man in Maeve’s past had died prematurely, he had no reason to believe she’d been involved in any way.
And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, she was incapable of harming anyone unless her own life was in peril.
He thanked the good lord above every day that she’d fended off Farthington’s attack and managed to escape to America.
That chain of events had led her to him, and for that, he would always be grateful.
Making his way toward the refreshment table, he encountered Derek and Catherine.
“Ah, there you are,” Derek said. “This is like the first ball of the London Season when everyone wants to be seen.”
“It’s ridiculous.” Aubrey finally poured a glass of water from one of the iced pitchers on the table. “Maeve is not feeling well, and I’ve been trying to get her a drink of water for fifteen minutes now.”
“Where is she?”
“In the ladies’ retiring room.”
“Allow us to help clear a path for you,” Derek said.
“I would appreciate that very much.”
With Derek and Catherine leading the way, the crowd parted to allow the duke and duchess to pass. Aubrey made it back to the room where he’d left Maeve in half the time it would’ve taken without their assistance.
“It certainly does help to have friends in high places,” Aubrey said.
Derek laughed. “Whatever I can do for you, my friend.”
“Do you mind if I stay to make sure Maeve is all right?” Catherine asked as they approached the closed door.
“Of course not. Give me just a minute to get her.” Aubrey knocked on the door and stepped inside the room where he found two women he didn’t recognize and no sign of his wife. “I’m looking for my wife.”
“The Irish woman?”
“Yes,” Aubrey said through gritted teeth. “Have you seen her? She was here a few minutes ago.”
“I saw her heading for the main door as I came in. My friend commented on her lovely gown and how the right clothing can make anyone seem elegant.”
The rude comment raised his hackles, but he had no time to give the woman a dressing down when he had far greater concerns. He turned and left the room, still carrying the glass of water and bringing a growing feeling of desperation with him. Where would she have gone?
Derek and Catherine waited for him outside the room.
“She’s gone,” he told them.
“Gone where?” Derek asked, brows furrowed.
“I don’t know. One of the women said they saw her heading for the main door.”
“Let’s go,” Catherine said, gathering her skirts and taking off toward the front of the house.
Derek and Aubrey followed her.
Aubrey’s heart beat so fast, he worried he’d pass out from the overabundance of blood beating through his system.
He just needed to find her and everything would be all right again.
That’s all it would take. As they walked briskly through the crowd that had thinned somewhat now that everyone was in the ballroom, he scanned the landscape in front of him, seeking his wife’s distinctive shade of reddish-brown hair.
But he didn’t see her anywhere, and with every minute that passed, his concern intensified. She had felt ill when he left her. Had her condition worsened to the point that she had decided to leave? And why would she leave without telling him?
They rushed through the main door, and the footmen hopped to when they saw the duke and duchess.
“How may we assist you, Your Grace?” one of them asked.
“We are looking for Mr. Nelson’s wife, Maeve,” Derek said. “We heard she headed in this direction.”
“Mrs. Nelson departed about ten minutes ago.”
“Departed?” Aubrey asked, incredulous. “Where did she go?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but she didn’t say.”
“Did she take the carriage?”
“No, sir, she left on foot.”
The words were no sooner out of the other man’s mouth when Aubrey took off running, dropping the glass of water in the driveway in his haste to catch up to her.
“We’ll meet you back at the house,” Derek called after him.
Aubrey raised an arm in acknowledgment but didn’t slow down as he cleared the gates to the Russell estate and ran toward home as fast as he could.
Thankfully, only half a mile separated the two estates, so it didn’t take him long to cover the distance.
Wiggie and Kaiser came out of the house when they saw him coming.
“Mr. Nelson, is everything all right?” Wiggie asked.
“Is Mrs. Nelson here?”
“Neither Mrs. Nelson is in residence at the moment,” Kaiser said.
If he hadn’t been out of his mind with worry about where Maeve had gone, he would’ve been impressed with the politely worded response from the footman, who’d clearly been paying attention to the training Plumber had been doling out to the new staff.
Aubrey put his hands on his hips, attempting to catch his breath as he contemplated his next move.
“Will you have my horse brought around, please?’
“Of course, sir,” Wiggie said, taking off for the stables.
“Is everything all right, sir?” Kaiser asked.
“No.” Aubrey ran a hand through his hair as frustration and concern held him in their grip. “It’s not all right.” And if he couldn’t find her, nothing would ever be all right again.