‘This morning. At the inn,’ she confessed. Stephen had been insistent that they breakfast before setting out. And although the last thing she had felt like doing was eating a mouthful, so anxious was she that word of her whereabouts might already have got back to Shevington Court, and someone would come to haul her back in disgrace, she had remembered how effectively Pansy’s remedy for nausea had worked the day before. That plate of toast had kept her stomach calm all the way to London.
‘You are wet through,’ he said. ‘What has happened to you? Why are you not with this other so-called brother of yours?’
‘Well,’ she sighed, ‘he did not think it would be at all proper to have a married woman staying in his lodgings. Especially one who looked like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards.’ She pushed a hank of wet hair off her face, and took a hefty swig of her brandy as her mind went back over that painful scene.
‘I do not begin to understand what you thought you might accomplish by coming here,’ Nick had said icily.
When she had began to stammer that it was because of the letter he had sent, he had pokered up, and stated, ‘Germanicus is dead. There is nothing you can do about it. And if you think I am going to let a woman looking like that—’ he had scathingly eyed her dishevelled appearance ‘—into my rooms then you are very much mistaken. I have prospects now, you know, Imogen. And I am not going to put my future at risk by letting you drag me into whatever scandal you are brewing. Now, I suggest you take yourself off back to your marital home, where you belong, and stop behaving like some kind of tragedy queen. I shall call on you there, at a more conventional hour.’
‘You will do no such thing!’ she had shouted at him, furious with herself for persistently refusing to admit how exactly like Hugh his middle son was. Totally self-centred and cold-hearted. All Hugh had cared about was books. And all Nick cared about was his career.
And she would rather die than go crawling to Monty’s house in Hanover Square! She had immediately discounted any thoughts of returning to her aunt and uncle, too. Though her aunt might be sympathetic to her plight, her uncle was bound to be furious with her for coming up to London on an impulse, and alone.
‘I shall go and stay with my true brother,’ she had spat at Nick. Well, he had been upset that she had not intended to in the first place, hadn’t he?
‘Yes, that’s right, the one who is half Gypsy. But let me tell you this,’ she had said, jabbing Nick in his bony chest with her forefinger. ‘He is twice the man you are. Ten times!’
Nick’s thin lips had twisted into a sneer. ‘The way you look I am sure you will fit right in with his camp on Hampstead Heath, or wherever they happen to be.’
‘He,’ she had boasted, ‘has a very large house on Bloomsbury Square, as it happens.’ And with her nose in the air, she had turned and clattered down the dingy communal staircase of the cheap lodging house where Nick had rooms.
It was not until she had got into the street that she remembered she had no purse. She would have done anything rather than go back into Nick’s rooms and beg for the means to procure a cab. Besides, it was not that far. The coach Stephen had hired had not taken a quarter of an hour to take her to Nick’s lodgings.
And so, in high dudgeon, she had set out to walk to Bloomsbury Square.
But those dratted indoor shoes! Ruefully, she rubbed at her wet and blistered feet. She had been limping before she had reached the first corner.
Stephen’s gaze followed her movements. When he saw the state of her feet, he drew in a breath.
‘I have to go out soon. It cannot be avoided. But Aktash will see to all your needs,’ he said, crossing to the bell pull and tugging on it. ‘You shall have shelter for the night. You stayed with me all night. You did your best to look after me. Now I do the same for you. And we are even,’ he said fiercely. ‘In the morning, we will discuss what your next move should be.’
Midge almost burst into tears again. She was safe, for now. But, oh, the problems she was going to have to face in the morning! Why, oh, why could she never think before charging off on one of her wild exploits? No wonder Monty was sick and tired of her. She was sick and tired of herself.
‘What do you mean, she has disappeared?’
Monty glowered at his father, completely at a loss to understand how Midge could have vanished from a house that was teeming with so many servants.
‘Somebody must have some idea where she is!’
Pansy, who had been summoned the moment Monty arrived at Shevington Court, wrung her hands. ‘It wasn’t till this morning, when I saw her bed had not been slept in, I got worried. Well, you know her routine. I only go up to her room now if she summons me special, excepting to take her breakfast up and help her dress for the day.’
Cobbett cleared his throat. ‘I believe I was the last person to see her, my lord,’ he admitted guiltily. ‘When I took up her post.’
Monty drew in a deep breath, stifling the urge to hit the poor fellow. It was not his fault that nobody had organized any kind of search party. Ever since Pansy had reported her missing, everyone seemed to have begun blaming everyone else. It was a wonder anybody had actually had the presence of mind to send for him at all.
‘I had not yet instructed the staff to organize a watch on her movements,’ admitted the earl. ‘She was too quick for me. It is the way with women like that. You made a serious error of judgement, thinking you could tame Framlingham’s daughter.’
‘What?’ Monty whirled round to stare at him. ‘What are you insinuating?’
‘Am I not making myself clear enough for you?’ He sneered. ‘I had already caught her trying to sneak down to the stables, the minute you had gone. I put a stop to that, you may be sure. Told her I knew what she was about!’
Monty shook his head impatiently. ‘Midge gave me her word she would not go riding—’
‘Not four-legged beasts, perhaps. But there are other attractions to be found in the stables for women like her.’
It was all Monty could do not to fly at the dirtyminded old man, casting aspersions on Midge’s character, with servants present, too! Clenching his fists, he growled, ‘Do you mean to tell me you accused her of plotting to seduce one of the grooms? Is that it? I would not have thought even you could stoop so low.’
The earl collapsed into his chair, his face growing pale. ‘You should have been here to keep her under control,’ he said querulously. ‘I should not have to deal with such a termagant.’
‘Gave you back as good as she got, did she?’ said Monty with satisfaction. ‘Good for her!’
‘I should have known you would somehow ruin my plans for the next generation of Claremonts,’ muttered the earl peevishly. ‘Bringing a creature like that to Shevington. I am supposed to have complete peace and quiet!’
‘Well, don’t worry!’ snapped Monty, turning on his heel. ‘Once I find her, you may be sure neither of us will be returning to this benighted place!’
Muttering under his breath, Monty took the stairs to their suite two at a time. He did not know what he expected to find when he got there. It was just that that was where he pictured her. And the last place anyone had seen her.
When he strode into their sitting room, the first thing he saw was the vase, which she had taken such pains to save, lying smashed to pieces in the fireplace. So many pieces—it must have been hurled to the ground with some force!
Midge had been furious. And who could blame her? His father was the outside of enough.
And far more unstable than even he had suspected. The earl had been so pleased Midge was pregnant.