Dangerous Lover, page 5
She stepped back. “I’ll put it in the drawer for safety, for we won’t need it just now.” It was an excuse to walk away from him, and the quirk of his lips told her he knew that. Worse, he did not immediately vanish, so she was both relieved and disappointed when Evelina rushed in with her coat and bonnet on and flew to her father with delight.
“Papa!”
“Good morning, minx,” he said, crouching to hug her. “Are you working hard and being obedient?”
“Oh yes,” Evelina said, clinging around his neck. “I have been very good. Since yesterday afternoon,” she added with an unexpected streak of honesty. “Are you coming on our walk with us?”
Sir Nicholas extracted himself and straightened. “Not today, my squib. I have business in the city.”
She took his hand, tugging and smiling up at him. “But you can make them wait. It’s just a short walk, and you’ll make it so much fun. Won’t he, Miss Battle?”
“I hardly feel qualified to say. But you must not importune your father, Evelina. Perhaps he would prefer to walk with you another time.”
“Diplomatically put, Miss Battle,” he said wryly.
“But I want you to come this time,” Evelina insisted, and there was something in the tone of her voice, in the sudden rigidity of her posture that warned Alexandra another tantrum was looming.
“Come along,” she said briskly, hoping to head it off by walking briskly and holding out her hand for Evelina’s.
But Evelina hid behind her father’s leg. “No! Not without Papa!”
“Evelina, I’ve told you, I can’t today,” her father said with gentle firmness.
“You can, you can!”
“I can’t, I can’t,” he said humorously, grasping the door handle and turning away. “Now be good for Miss Battle.”
But it was too late for that. The foot stamped, and the angelic little face surged red with fury. “You must come, you must!” she shrieked, throwing herself upon him, beating his thighs with her fist. “You must, you must!”
Alexandra glimpsed the helpless pity in his eyes as he dropped to a crouch once more, clearly meaning to hold her. Quicker than thought, Alexandra grasped one tiny fist in mid-flight and hauled the child away. Again, surprise was her friend, and Evelina was halfway across the schoolroom before she realized what had happened.
“I won’t go in there again, I won’t!” she yelled, struggling.
“Miss Battle.” Sir Nicholas’s cold fury broke through the child’s screams.
“One moment, if you please,” Alexandra said, whipping them out of the schoolroom and into the playroom.
His hasty footsteps followed, but she already had the “tantrum room” door open. Whisking Evelina inside, she closed the door, set the chair in front of it, and sat.
She knew Sir Nicholas stood, stunned, on the other side of it. Don’t try to come in, don’t speak. Please don’t…
He didn’t. Though it was true, she didn’t hear much over Evelina’s furious screaming.
The tantrum ended rather quicker than the last one.
She looked up at Alexandra from her tear-stained face, surrounded by a tangle of hair. “He won’t come now, will he?” she said in a small voice.
“He wasn’t going to come before,” Alexandra said honestly. “All you have achieved is that we couldn’t go either.”
The child nodded miserably. “You didn’t lock me in by myself.”
“No, and I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you when you are well behaved. How old are you now, Evelina?”
“Six.”
Alexandra nodded. “Then I think you are old enough to understand that it is really only babies who try to get their own way by temper tantrums. Now that you are six, you must show your father—and me, and Anna and Mrs. Dart—that you are more grown-up than that.”
Evelina stared. “Don’t you want to h-hug me?” she asked brokenly.
Alexandra, who suddenly felt like crying, opened her arms, and Evelina flew into them. “Everyone loves you, Evelina,” she murmured into the girl’s hair. “But I think you will get more hugs when you behave well.”
She sniffed and nodded into Alexandra’s shoulder.
“Perhaps,” Alexandra said, “you should apologize to me? And to your father when you next see him. I think it will make you feel better, and we will all see how grown-up you are.”
“Sorry,” the child whispered, grasping the fabric of her gown.
Alexandra drew her back a little and smiled. “Well done. You are allowed to be angry, you know. Everyone is, sometimes. But anger doesn’t change what you might want to change.”
She thought about that, and Alexandra decided she had said enough.
“Then go and wash your face and brush your hair again, and we’ll have a shorter walk.”
Evelina nodded, and Alexandra stood, moving the chair so that they could open the door. Leaving Evelina to wash her face, Alexandra walked into the schoolroom. And found Sir Nicholas scowling at her.
Hastily she closed the door. “Please go,” she hissed. “It is vital she achieves nothing by her tantrums. She must not know you stayed because of it!”
“I stayed to be sure you were not being cruel to my daughter,” he said coldly.
“But you know I was not, or you would have broken in to stop me.”
“I would. You do not have all the facts, Miss Battle.”
“Then you must give me them, but not now.” She made a hasty shooing motion with her hands, and he blinked.
“I really don’t know whether to admire you or dismiss you.”
“Decide later.”
A moment longer, he stared at her. “Come to the library after dinner,” he commanded and turned on his heels.
*
They enjoyed a curtailed walk to make the point that Evelina had wasted the time, and then completed a little more work before luncheon. Afterward, Alexandra played the guitar and taught Evelina a simple new song. She had a lovely voice, and she clearly enjoyed the music, so they got out the smaller guitar, and Evelina learned how to hold it and strum it.
She then sent the child into the garden with Anna for a short while. Alexandra used the time to write short notes to each of her three London governess acquaintances, proposing dates the following week when they could meet in Hyde Park. As she set them in a neat pile on her desk, it struck her that it was past time for Evelina to be back in the schoolroom.
She crossed to the window, which looked down onto the garden, but there was no one there. Assuming they were on their way upstairs, Alexandra sat down again and opened the nearest book at the story she wished to read with Evelina. After five minutes, she went through to the playroom and bedrooms, but they were empty, too. Sighing, Alexandra set off in search of her errant pupil.
Anna was hurrying along the corridor with an armful of clean linen. For the first time, unease nipped at Alexandra’s stomach.
“Where is Evelina?”
“She came in before me,” Anna said. “I thought she was with you.”
“Look up here, will you? And ask Lady Nora’s maid.”
It was probably mischief, she assured herself, hurrying downstairs. Children liked to hide. However, Evelina had shown no sign of it before. She seemed to prefer being visible.
With conscious bravery, she knocked loudly on the library door. Receiving no answer, she went in to find the room unoccupied by anyone.
Kitchen, she thought suddenly. Hungry children often gravitated to the source of food and treats. Running down to the ground floor, she pushed open the baize door to the servants’ quarters.
Mrs. Dart emerged from a room on the left and paused in astonishment. “Miss Battle? Can I help you?”
“Yes, is Evelina here? In the kitchen?”
“No. No, she—”
“Then I think everyone needs to search the house and gardens until we find her,” Alexandra said with a calmness she was far from feeling. Mrs. Dart, thankfully, did not argue but hurried off to order the servants.
Alexandra ran back upstairs in search of Anna, who met her breathlessly on the landing.
“She is not with Lady Nora nor in her father’s rooms,” she gasped, not bothering to hide her anxiety.
“Exactly when did you see her last?” Alexandra demanded. “In the garden?”
“Yes, we played ball, and then Mary, the laundry maid, called to me that the linen for Evelina’s room was ready. I told Evelina it was time to come in. She went to fetch the ball from where it had landed in the bushes, and I went ahead of her to collect the laundry.”
“Then you did not see her come in?” Alexandra insisted.
“No, I assumed. She was not unhappy to come in.”
In other words, she was not throwing a tantrum. “Could she have got out of the garden into the street?” As one, they hurried back downstairs and out the front door, but Clara was already there, outside the gate, looking up and down the street.
Five minutes later, with the house and garden and surrounding lanes thoroughly searched, James, the burly chief manservant, who was not quite a butler or a valet but something of both, was sent to break the news to Sir Nicholas.
Chapter Five
Nicholas had never known fear like this. Abandoning his carriage to the jammed traffic in the Strand, he strode home, anxiety and hope clawing with equal cruelty at his head and his stomach.
And then hope plummeted like a stone when he saw two of his maids hurrying from the opposite end of the lane, worry etched on their faces.
“Is she found?” he barked, although he already knew the answer.
They shook their heads in terror, and he strode through the open gate toward the house.
“Well?” he snarled at Mrs. Dart, who was rushing down the staircase.
“Oh, sir, we can find no trace of her…”
“Bring me, Miss Battle,” he commanded, striding into the bare reception room. “And Anna.”
He was aware that anger was growing from fear and helplessness, but until he knew what had already been done to find his daughter, he could not plan. Instead, he paced the room, trying not to think of all the terrible things that could befall a child alone in this city.
Blame, at this point, would waste time, but that didn’t mean he did not feel it. He blamed those he had left in charge of her, and he blamed himself for putting them there.
“Stay,” he ordered Mrs. Dart as she led the other two women into the reception room. “What has been done to find her?”
“We’ve searched the house and the gardens and walked around the streets nearby.” Inevitably it was Miss Battle who answered. Pretty, intriguing Miss Battle who turned out to be as useless all the rest, damn her. “We spoke to neighbors and people in the street, but no one saw her. And we informed a policeman who is spreading the word amongst his colleagues to look for her.”
“Then we must widen the search. Send Ingram to me as soon as he—”
At that moment, Ingram, his trusted lieutenant, who specialized in finding the right people and information, walked into the room.
“You have men at your disposal?” Nicholas flung at him.
Ingram nodded. “Waiting outside.”
“They need to spread out from the river in an increasingly wide arc—over the bridge, too. And speak to the boatmen.”
“We checked the riverside, sir,” Anna all but whispered. “No one had seen her.”
He ignored that while Ingram strode off. “Search the house again,” he told the women. “She could be hiding somewhere.”
Mrs. Dart and Anna scurried off. The governess lingered. “Sir, I want you to know I have also asked friends to join—”
“Have you not done enough?” he burst out.
Despite the force with which he had turned on her, she did not flee. Rather, she took a step closer, her expression anxious and damnably compassionate. “Sir, I must help in any way—”
“By driving my daughter from her home?” he demanded, letting the fury loose.
“Driving…?” she began, bewildered.
“You would not follow my instructions, so convinced you knew better, and this is the result.”
She definitely understood that, for her face whitened. “You think…you believe she ran away? From me?” He almost saw the wheels of her mind turn, considering her guilt. “You mean I should have embraced her, held her as you do? Can you not see that hugging her rewards her bad behavior? No, no, she understood me, was quite happy when she went into the garden with Anna.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he said savagely. “But it won’t be in my character reference.” Brushing past her, he strode for the door, desperate to do something, anything to find his lost child.
Abruptly a tall young man and a diminutive young woman in spectacles appeared in the doorway, causing him to halt.
“Who the devil are you?” he demanded rudely.
“My name is Tizsa,” said the young man with a bow that was more of a nod.
And then the damned governess was beside him once more. “These are my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Tizsa—Lady Grizelda. I was trying to tell you I have asked them…”
He stared at her. “You are planning on a tea party with friends when you have just lost my daughter?”
“No, sir, I have asked for their help. This is Sir Nicholas Swan, if you haven’t guessed.” She seemed to throw the introduction to her friends before turning on him once more. “Mr. and Mrs. Tizsa have experience at solving puzzles.”
“Puzzles?” He stared at her, unable to believe his ears. “You call my daughter’s disappearance a puzzle?”
“Well, yes. What would you call it? A child left alone in an enclosed garden for a mere minute has vanished without an obvious trace. Her only exit was into the house, where no one can find her.”
He stared at her, unwilling to admit the truth of her words when his every instinct was to panic.
“Perhaps,” the tall young man said, “you should show me the garden.”
“With your permission,” his wife added—a sop, presumably, to Nicholas’s dignity.
Without a word, he strode past them, out of the room, and across the hall to the back door. They were right, of course. The headless chicken approach would not help Evelina. He had people scouring the streets. It was time to look more closely at how she could have got out and in which direction.
Tizsa…? “Dragan Tizsa,” he said abruptly.
“Have we met?” Tizsa asked in surprise.
“No, but I’ve heard of you.” As a revolutionary thinker and soldier. “What is this experience you have in finding lost children?”
“None,” Tizsa said frankly. “But my wife and I have solved a few puzzles.”
“The maid who was killed in Covent Garden,” Miss Battle said. “And the housing scandal in St. Giles.”
That, he did remember, was associated with Tizsa’s name. “It’s not how I would have chosen to meet you,” Nicholas said grimly, pushing open the back door. “But if you can find my daughter before she is killed or becomes another statistic, I will be in your debt.”
Tizsa didn’t answer that but walked past him into the garden, where he began striding around, checking the walls and gates. Nicholas swallowed his impatience with difficulty. Surely, his own people had done this already?
“Where exactly was Evelina when you last saw her?” asked Mrs. Tizsa, once Lady Grizelda Niven.
Miss Battle went forward toward the overgrown bushes on the left of the lawn. “About here. Anna, the nursemaid, was going inside via the kitchen door and glanced back, she said, and Evelina was looking for her ball among the plants.”
Mrs. Tizsa hurried forward with the governess. Since Tizsa was trying the cellar doors, which Nicholas could have told him were shut and locked at all times, Nicholas strode after the women, racking his brains for something more useful to do. Had he set everything in motion that was likely to find her? Ingram would use the neighbors to help scour the streets. The police, the river boatmen, were all looking for her. The servants were tearing the house apart—again—and he was left watching two young women poke among the undergrowth of his shabby garden.
“Is this her ball?” Mrs. Tizsa straightened, holding up the colorful ball that Evelina liked so much.
Nicholas’s stomach clenched. It was Miss Battle who whispered, “Yes, it’s hers.”
“Then either she didn’t find it, or she dropped it again. Dragan!” Mrs. Tizsa’s unexpected shout jerked Nicholas out of his paralyzing fear once more.
“She would not have come in without the ball,” Nicholas blurted, “or at least without raising such a hue and cry for it that she had all the servants searching.” Dear God, had she fallen among the bushes, was she lying among them unconscious and unseen?
As one, the four of them began systematically searching the area, but of course, the servants would have found something as large as a child. The ball, they either didn’t see or ignored as unimportant.
“It doesn’t help,” Nicholas burst out at last. “She didn’t fall here, and the wall is too high for her to have climbed.”
“Someone else could have climbed it,” Tizsa said bluntly.
“And taken her?” Nicholas said hoarsely. It had always been a possibility, lurking monstrously at the back of his mind, and yet it was bizarrely shocking to hear it spoken aloud.
Tizsa hesitated. “Someone in another part of the city recently asked me to find a missing child. From what I’ve learned, he was not the only child of wealthy parents to vanish recently.”
“What happened to them?” Miss Battle asked in little more than a whisper.
“That’s the mystery.” Tizsa kicked at a few plants at his feet. One, clearly rootless, flew to the side, landing on his wife’s shoe. “Those rumored to have vanished apparently did not.”
“You make no sense,” Nicholas snapped.
“I know.” Tizsa’s foot was swiping loose branches and leaves out of the way, and suddenly his wife was there, helping him, and a small, square clearing near the wall began to take shape.
