To Love and Protect Page 2

  He traveled quickly since most of town had been deserted for country estates for the holiday season. His stomach growled irritatingly as he realized he had worked through lunch. He had become too accustomed to eating meals at a set time. When in Scotland, you could only count on the evening meal being served at a set time. He had missed seeing his grandfather, grandmother, and all the clansmen this year. Justin idly wondered how Liam had spent the last year, and then just as quickly reminded himself they were no longer friends.

  His thoughts had wandered, and before he realized it, he had reached Grosvenor Square. He nodded to several passersby as he traveled to the far side of the square and his godmother’s massive house. Justin dismounted from his horse, took a deep breath and started up the stairs. A crisp-looking butler abruptly opened the door.

  “My lord, my lady is awaiting you in the pink salon.” Justin stifled his groan as he followed the man. The butler opened the door and the pink attacked Justin from every side. The pink salon had every shade of pink known to man. The tasteful cream-colored walls were the only saving grace of the room. He searched the room and found his godmother on a settee in front of a cheerfully lit fireplace, her pepper-gray hair peeking above the back. Beside her sat a female with blonde hair falling down her back in a haphazard manner.

  Please don’t let her be trying her hand at matchmaking, Justin prayed silently. “Good evening, Gertie,” he greeted cheerfully, belying his hesitation.

  “Justin, this is not a social call, unfortunately,” his godmother said in a brisk manner he had never heard before. Concerned, he quickly rounded the sofa. Lady Clarissa Blackerby sat next to his godmother. Her hands were clenched tightly together in her lap. Scratches covered her hands, upper chest, and face. Her clothing looked tattered and torn. Dirt, twigs, and leaves covered her and were tangled in her hair.

  “What’s going on?” Gertie’s green eyes sparkled with tears. Justin’s stomach plummeted as he realized that something was indeed seriously wrong. His godmother might do many things, but she never cried. He looked over at Lady Blackerby and saw that she still had not looked away from her hands lying in her lap. Justin did not want to bring up Clarissa’s injuries just yet, so instead he knelt on one knee in front of his mother’s best friend and placed a hand on her knee. “Gertie, what’s the matter?”

  “William is missing.”

  “Who?”

  “My brother, Clarissa’s father.”

  “Oh, yes. Are you certain he’s missing?” Gertie nodded in the affirmative. “How do you know?”

  “I think he’s been kidnapped, actually,” Clarissa spoke up, her voice husky but firm. She finally looked up. Justin quickly hid his reaction to the cuts and bruising on her face.

  “Kidnapped?”

  “He left on business, but never reached his destination,” she answered.

  “Perhaps you should start from the beginning.”

  “There are so many beginnings, I hardly know where to start,” Clarissa gave a sardonic chuckle. Gertrude gave her a squeeze before she continued, “Yes, father did leave the city on business.”

  He waited, but she only stared at her hands, not making eye contact and not answering him. “Lady Blackerby, if Gertie trusted me enough to bring me here, you can trust me enough to tell me your story.”

  “Fine. Something happened on the way to Liverpool. A courier arrived at the house on Friday from the man he was supposed to have met. The note indicated that Papa never appeared for the scheduled meeting.”

  “Perhaps the carriage broke a wheel or something and he was merely delayed,” Justin suggested as he stood and straightened out his stiff legs. He walked over and pulled a chair closer to the divan.

  “He traveled by horseback,” Clarissa countered. “I kept waiting for a note to arrive from Papa saying not to worry, and all was well.”

  “But it never arrived?”

  “No. I even wrote to our housekeeper at the estate he would most likely hie off to if something did happen, and they have not seen him either. I prayed all during the vicar’s sermon that if Papa was all right I would make nice with Lorraine, but I have yet to hear a word from him. In a way that is a mixed blessing,” she chuckled.

  “Lorraine?”

  “My father’s new wife, or my evil step-mother. Whichever you prefer to call her.”

  “I see. Yes, I believe we have met.”

  “You’re a handsome man, of course you have met her,” she scoffed.

  “Lady Clarissa,” he continued on, ignoring her mutterings, “it’s been a month, why have you waited so long?”

  “I knew everyone would think he had only been delayed for some reason if I didn’t. I also kept hoping that we would receive a note from him, relieving me of my worries.”

  “Does Her Grace know?”

  “No, and I don’t want her to.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t trust her or her brother. She moved him in to our home shortly after she and father married, and they have been trouble ever since.”

  “What is her brother’s name?”

  “Franklin Montmorency.”

  Justin leaned back in the chair and stared at the far wall, attempting to avoid looking at anything pink. He looked back at Clarissa and asked, “Why are you so determined that he’s been kidnapped?”

  “Before today I wasn’t certain.”

  “What made today different?”

  “Someone attacked me in Hyde Park and very nearly kidnapped me,” she said gesturing to her current appearance.

  “What?” Justin asked incredulously.

  “Are you hard of hearing, or do I truly need to repeat myself?” When he made a motion with his hand to the negative, she continued. “To make a long story short a man accosted me. I did not recognize anything about the man. From things he said it makes me believe someone hired him to do the job.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “It doesn’t really matter. No one is dead, more’s the pity, and I will heal.”

  “What is it you want me to do?”

  “Assist me in finding my father.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I don’t believe you heard her correctly, Justin.”

  “What?”

  “She wants you,” Gertie paused and pointed at Justin before continuing, “to assist her. She doesn’t want to wait while you go it alone and send back reports.”

  “You can’t be serious.” He had never thought of Lady Clarissa Blackerby, daughter of the Duke of Hamilton as being one who took an active involvement in anything except charities and parties. In fact, she looked as if she might fall apart at any moment.

  “Why not?” Clarissa asked. She stared him in the eye, a look of sheer determination on her bruised and battered features.

  “Well, look at you,” he waved at her.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re a woman, dammit! You belong here, not out there.”

  “You think I’m too delicate. Is that it, Lord Southerby?”

  “Yes!”

  “Aunt Gertie, if you don’t mind, I will rest here tonight, and then I will leave at first light,” Clarissa said.

  “Of course, my dear,” Gertrude replied. All the while, Justin paced back and forth muttering under his breath. “What will you need?”

  “Enough! You win. You,” Justin pointed at Clarissa, “are going to stay put. And as for you,” he turned to Gertrude.

  “Yes?” his mother’s best friend asked innocently.

  “Dammit,” he muttered. “Lady Blackerby, do you have any pertinent information you can share with me? I need to look into as much as possible here before we leave.”

  “I have his schedule and the route he wanted to take. There were several stops he planned to make along the way, both going and coming. I also found all of his personal papers just in case something were to happen.”

  “Clarissa, we are dealing with the unknown here. Other than a report tha
t indicates your father never made his meeting, what other evidence do you have?”

  “None.”

  “Then why do you want to come with me?”

  “Lord Southerby, either my father has been kidnapped or murdered. I think I have a right to be there when we find out which it is. My step-mother believes I have been moping over Lord Hawkescliffe’s defection, and I want it to stay that way. She is a woman I dare not trust, and I would not put it past her to be involved in Papa’s disappearance. If you will not help me, I will find him myself.”

  Justin sat back in the chair looking at Clarissa. He had not expected this at all. Clarissa appeared vulnerable to the world. She was petite in stature but evidently large in her courage. He stood from the chair and looked at the two women on the divan. Justin could not think with these two looking at him the way they were, one with determination and the other with hope.

  “I will not beg you, Lord Southerby. I promise to be a valuable asset and not get in your way. However, if you choose not to help me, I will set out on my own.”

  “See that you get some salve on those cuts. I must leave for a while. I need the name of your father’s solicitor and secretary in town. Give me until the day after tomorrow before you do anything drastic. I will be back with my answer.”

  Clarissa looked as if she would argue with him, but instead inclined her head sharply giving him the information he requested and went back to looking at her hands clutched together.

  ***

  Justin left Gertie’s house on a mission to find answers. He rode to the area of town where most solicitors kept their offices, reading the shingles hanging outside of the buildings looking for the name Cummings. After passing a dozen offices he finally saw the shingle two storefronts down. It swayed in the breeze, its creaking sound filling the air. Justin rode up to the building and tied his horse to the post out front. A bell clanged above a balding man’s head as he pulled the door closed behind him. The man checked his pockets as if he had misplaced something.

  “I need to speak to Mr. Cummings about a rather urgent matter.”

  “Come back in the morning,” the man said absently still patting his pockets. “The wife is expecting me. Where is that bloody key?” The man asked no one in particular.

  “This key?” Justin asked innocently. He bent over and retrieved a brass key that had fallen between two cobbles.

  “Yes, sir,” the little man said excitedly, reaching for the key. Justin held it just out of his reach.

  “As I said, I need to speak with Mr. Cummings.” A look of irritation crossed the man’s face. “I won’t take much of your time, Mr. Cummings, then you can be on your way.”

  “Oh, very well. You will save me from having to entertain my wife’s brother for that much longer. Who did you say you are?”

  “I don’t believe I did. I am representing the Duke of Hamilton’s daughter, Lady Clarissa Blackerby.”

  “Come this way.” Justin followed the man through the door and into an office with books and papers stacked everywhere. The man took a seat behind his desk before indicating that Justin should take the chair across from him. Justin sat after moving a stack of papers from the indicated chair. “What can I do for you?” Cummings asked.

  “I am here on a discreet matter. It is believed that the Duke of Hamilton might be missing. I’m trying to retrace his steps. Did he visit you within the last few weeks?”

  “Hamilton’s missing?”

  “That is what his daughter believes.”

  “Perhaps she just has an active imagination.”

  “Perhaps, but I promised to look into the matter. So, have you seen him recently?”

  “He did come in sometime during the last fortnight and establish a new will.”

  “I see. Why did he write a new will? Was he in poor health? Did he seem worried about his life perhaps?”

  “No to both questions. The will is a bit strange, but I think it has more to do with that new wife of his. I’m sorry but I cannot divulge the full details of the will.”

  “I understand,” Justin said calmly. All of a sudden the bell rang over the front door heralding another visitor.

  “Pardon me, I will be back directly,” the man jumped up, more spry than what he appeared. The barrister muttered under his breath about locking doors and leaving earlier as he exited the room.

  “Certainly,” Justin said. As soon as the man cleared the door Justin jumped up and began searching the tops of the stacks on the solicitor’s desk. Halfway down the third stack he searched, he found a document with the duke’s name on it. He scanned the will, shocked at what the old man had done. When he heard steps coming back to the office, he quickly shoved the document back into its proper stack.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Cummings mumbled.

  “Not to worry,” Justin stood waving the man off. “And you are certain you have not received any word from His Grace since your last visit.”

  “Positive”

  “I have one last question, Mr. Cummings.”

  “Yes?”

  “Let us say that someone adds a stipulation to a will. If that stipulation is not carried out, what usually happens to the inheritance?”

  “Well, that depends. It can either revert back to the main benefactor of the will or go to the estate.”

  “I see. Well, thank you for your time and have a nice evening.” Justin left the solicitor’s office and made his way to the ducal mansion. He rode up just as a man walked out the front door. “Pardon me, I’m looking for the Duke of Hamilton’s secretary.”

  “That would be me, Mr. Foote.”

  “Mr. Foote, I am Lord Southerby, and I have some business with the duke on behalf of the Foreign Office. I wonder if I could set up an appointment to speak with him.”

  “I’m sorry, he’s out of town at the moment,” the man replied in a nasally voice. His beady, brown eyes took Justin’s measure.

  “Do you have an itinerary for him? My director insists that I speak to him as soon as possible.”

  “Come with me,” the man said huffily. He turned to reveal a shiny, circular bald spot on the crown of his head as he led Justin into the Duke’s study. Mr. Foote shuffled some papers around on the top of the desk before he found the one he looked for. He quickly scribbled the information onto a new sheet of paper and then handed it over to Justin. “Here you go, my lord. Will there be anything else?”

  “He was going to stick strictly by this schedule?”

  “Indeed. He wants to be back for the upcoming holidays.”

  “I see. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Foote. Your help has been invaluable.” He left the Hamilton’s residence and retired to his house for the evening to mull over the information he had found.

  ***

  Justin rose early the next morning and rode to Hyde Park to think and put Galahad through his paces. He promised Clarissa he would give her his answer this morning. Justin led his horse to Rotten Row and gave him his head. Few people were out, but he gave passing nods to those that were.

  He could feel Galahad’s muscles bunch beneath his legs. The wind rushing past him helped to clear his thoughts. This was the best part of London, he decided, and the closest to being home. They made several passes until Galahad became winded, and Justin slowed him to a walk to allow him to cool down. Based on how the will read, things did not look good for Clarissa or her father. Perhaps he should talk to the duchess and her brother. Maybe Clarissa had just been overreacting. She could just be jealous after so many years of being the sole woman in her father’s life.

  A half hour later he had made his decision. He turned Galahad toward Gertie’s house. He hoped he could ease Clarissa’s worries; however, she would not be going with him. She had no reason to expose herself to more injury. He would simply follow her father’s route, find him, and return him to her hale and hearty. Besides, she looked too delicate to endure that kind of travel. He did not need to deal with a fragile woman while looking for a lost old man as well. H
e would be firm when he told her, and she would just have to respect that fact.

  Most importantly, what would she do if they did not find out good news? It would be much easier to tell her with Gertie’s support than it would be for her to find out from him alone. He did not do well dealing with female histrionics. He turned Galahad and rode back to Gertie’s house. Once again, he didn’t even have to knock on the door.

  “I know, the pink salon,” he said before the butler could even get the words out. Justin walked into the room, and Gertie flew into his arms catching him unawares.

  “She’s gone!”

  Chapter 2

  A shocked look crossed Justin’s face as he tried to take in the words his godmother had just spoken. “What?” He barely restrained himself from roaring the word.

  “Clarissa’s gone.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know,” she shook her head.

  “Why did she leave?”

  “She was convinced you wouldn’t help her, that you would think she was overreacting. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she wouldn’t listen. She never came down to breakfast.”

  Justin remained stoic as Gertrude threw the words he had thought just a few minutes ago back in his face. “Did any of the servants see where she went?”

  “No,” she shook her head, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Justin, I can’t lose both her and William. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Justin looked carefully at his godmother. Stark terror filled her eyes, and her hands trembled where they clutched his overcoat. “You truly think that something has happened to your brother?”

  “William is not the kind to just disappear. Like Clarissa,” Gertie explained, “I have been suspicious of Lorraine from the beginning. Perhaps I am imagining things, I don’t know. But something isn’t right. Clarissa and her father are close. Her mother died when she was only a child. It has been just the two of them forever. I know I’m setting it up to sound like she is jealous, but she isn’t that type of person. She would not deny her father true happiness. No, it is more than that,” she shook her head sadly.