Chapter 2 - Bradford
Bradford McAllister, the Viscount Hayes, ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed at his reflection in his dressing mirror. He was putting too much emphasis on his appearance for dinner this evening and he knew it. It wasn’t as if the way his cravat was tied would make a difference.
He feared nothing would make a difference. After all, how does one politely say, I thought you cared for my daughter; I thought you cared for me. I’m hurt that you would leave us; I wish you would stay.
Bradford paused, considering whether such honesty would work.
He’d lied to Miss Hughes in his study. Of course he wasn't going to imprison her like they were living in some dreadful gothic novel. Him telling her she was forbidden to leave had been a panicked, knee-jerk reaction, nothing more. He’d regretted it the moment the words escaped his lips.
The truth of the matter was, he’d reacted so strongly because he cared deeply, something the lady might have realized if she’d paused to think about it, if she hadn't nearly fled from his presence in sheer terror.
He sighed and yanked the cravat from his neck. The entire outfit was wrong. Light gray--what had he been thinking?
He had been doing his best to ignore Miss Hughes the entire time she was here, with varying degrees of success. Now he had ruined any possibility of…well, anything by the way he had bellowed at her.
Hers was a perfectly logical request. If she no longer needed the employment, of course she wouldn’t keep her position.
Bradford sighed and looked at the afternoon light outside the window, trying once again to formulate an apology.
He was well out of practice, but surely the words would have their intended effect, even if they were delivered in his customary growl.
Bradford nodded to himself, satisfied with his prudent plan.
An hour later, he’d combed his hair and chosen a dark suit appropriate for the occasion. Apologies were close to mourning, or so he felt. He made his way to the dining room, expecting to find the young lady known as Miss Hughes seated, but her usual chair was empty.
"Mrs. Clark," he snapped.
"Yes, my lord." She appeared like a wraith at his elbow. He’d learned that she was never far.
"Where is Miss Hughes?"
Mrs. Clark wrung her fingers. "Why, she's gone, my lord."
A thrill of terror coursed through his limbs. Through practice, he didn't so much as flinch. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"
"She left this afternoon. Didn't tell anyone. We only found her room empty and her clothes missing when Genevieve went to call her for the evening meal."
“Question the staff. Find her, now.”
Find out what happens when Lily underestimates just how far Bradford will go to find her in A Breach in Brocade…