Chapter 5
“What do you mean, the viscount is missing? He was in my room last night.” Marianne stood in the somber, well-stocked library in front of her new father-in-law’s desk worrying yet another starched, white, lace handkerchief. Summoned from the gardens only moments ago, she had been trying to start the adjustment to her new home.
Would the drama never end? Would her life never settle into a pattern that would give her peace?
“It’s just as I said, madam. He was not in his room this morning. Nor did he sleep in his bed last night.” The earl steepled his fingers, his elbows on his desk, and looked down his nose at her. “What did you do to him? What did you say to him? How did you upset him?”
He dared to put her on the defensive? “How did I upset him? I said nothing. I did my duty as expected. He fell asleep soon thereafter next to me. When I woke up this morning, he was gone.” Marianne dropped into a seat in front of the desk. This was too much by half. She clasped her hands together to keep from wringing her handkerchief further. She felt the presence of the new piece of jewelry on her left hand.
Dropping her gaze, the heavy gold band with the three cabochon rubies and small diamonds delineating them glinted back at her. Her wedding ring. Not her possession for a full day and her husband had already deserted her. Though she imagined it must be better this way than being left at the altar.
Just barely.
Drew told her right after the ceremony the ring had been his mother’s and had been in his family for generations. His attitude, so gentle and forthright, gave her the impression he had loved his mother a great deal.
She had to admit the ring was beautiful and she loved it, both for its history and the stunning stones and setting.
The earl broke into her reverie.
“I am aware you consummated the marriage as required.”
Marianne felt the blood drain from her face. “That would be none of your business.”
“On the contrary, madam. Being a business arrangement, your dowry does not convey to the viscount unless the marriage is official. That means it must be consummated. I had the maid pull the sheets to verify the necessary actions were taken.”
The earl’s arrogant demeanor made Marianne want to slap him. Unfortunately, she did not think it wise to take such actions. Especially with her new husband missing and her new father-in-law a peer of the realm.
She took in a deep breath as she twisted the ring around her finger. “So, my lord, exactly why do you think the viscount is missing? Could he not have just gone to his club? Visited a friend? Taken a walk?”
“Madam,” the earl began.
“Please, my lord, my name is Marianne. Under the circumstances it is most appropriate that you use it.”
“Very well. Marianne, it is not uncommon that Andrew, your husband—”
“I know his name, my lord,” Marianne interrupted, insulted that he would imply she didn’t know of whom he spoke.
“Yes, your husband. It is not uncommon that he should be out late. He has been known to frequent White’s and other, um, let us say, less desirable locales, late into the night. However, by this time of the day, well past noon, he would be in his room in his bed recovering from his forays the night before. As I said earlier, his room is vacant. His bed has not been slept in. He is missing.”
With this, Marianne’s alarm became palpable. Not married a full day and already her husband had run away? What would people think? What would they say?
Getting up from her seat, she started pacing the room worrying the newly seated ring on her finger as she stalked to and fro. “What do we do? Who can help us find him?”
The earl rose from behind his desk and came around to her side but he did not touch or console her. “I have sent runners out to all his known haunts. I’ve alerted the Metropolitan Police Force at Scotland Yard. I’ve sent others out to possible locations we may not know of and to his few friends as well. As yet, there has been no news. Even his valet has pled ignorance, saying Andrew was not there this morning when he checked, that a few of his clothes were gone but nothing else seemed amiss.”
She turned toward him. “What am I to do? How can I help?”
A look of near amazement crossed the earl’s face. “You want to help?”
“Of course I do. Drew is lost. He must be found. Despite circumstances, he is my husband. We must find him.”
The earl took her hand in his and patted it gently.
Would people never stop patting her hand as if she were some kind of dim-witted pet?
Seemingly realizing the familiarity of his actions, he dropped her hand as if she carried the plague. He took a step back. “We’ll find him. It may take some time but we will find him. In the meanwhile, I suggest we get you moved into his town house so you can begin to settle into your new life.”
“I’m leaving? My husband is missing and you are pushing me out?”
“No, Marianne, you can visit here. You are my daughter-in-law. But you and Andrew will be making your own life together and he wanted to start that in his town house. I believe it would be better for you to set yourself up there. When he returns, you will be ready for your new beginning.”
Feeling abandoned and knowing an argument would make little difference, Marianne acquiesced. “As you wish, my lord.” Giving a meager curtsy, she left the room to supervise the repacking of her things.
If she had to leave, she would do so immediately. The less time she spent under the roof of Drew’s uncompassionate, selfish father, the better for her. No matter the state of the town house, her dowry would be enough to refurbish it and cover any other debts her new husband brought with him. If she needed more money, she had only to ask her father. And, under the current circumstances, a discussion with her father concerning her new situation seemed clearly in order. Her father would know what to do and could have his solicitors see to her financial protection and well-being until Drew returned.
~ ~ ~
Drew woke again, his head still throbbing, his whole body swaying, yet his feet were not on the ground. Where was he? Why did he still feel drunk? He had not taken a drink since that night—his wedding night.
As Drew took a deep breath, his senses filled with salt air. Was he still at the river? No, the river did not smell of the sea. And he swayed.
He raised his head to peruse his surroundings. Walls of planking. Floors of planking. The room rocking. His bed swaying.
He lay in a hammock on board a ship.
It came back to him in a horrible rush. His wedding night. The drinking. The fall in the gutter. The driver who picked him up and put him in a cab. Three men talking. Money exchanging hands. Being carried somewhere.
And here he was. He must have been pressed into service as a sailor on a ship.
He hurried to check his person. He still wore the clothes he’d thrown on when he stumbled out of his father’s house, his puce wedding suit. He checked his hands, relieved to find his gold wedding band. He fumbled in his pockets, first one, then the other. He found it, the miniature of Marianne, his new bride. His wife somewhere far away on dry land. And she having absolutely no idea where in heaven’s name he could be.
How could he contact her? Send her a message?
“So you’re up. Well you’ve been sleepin’ for three days but we had a hand in that. Couldn’t have you makin’ a fuss while we was still near a port.”
Drew jerked his head up to see the man speaking to him.
He remembered this man. The huge, strong reprobate who had thrown him over his shoulder like Drew was a child’s doll.
Now he could see him clearly. Burly would be the best description. He had to be six-feet-four or five. Definitely taller than he was. And broad as an ox. Not an ounce of fat on him. Multiple teeth missing. Hair shaggy, unclean, and uncombed.
And the odor of him. Did he never bathe?
“Yes, I’m up. Where am I and why have you kidnapped me? I want to be taken to the nearest port this instant.”
The giant’s face lit into a humorless smile. “I doubt that’ll be happenin’ any time soon, m’lud. You’ve been sold into service on the East Indiaman Master’s Mistress. You have work to do and you’ll need to be gettin’ to it or you’ll not be havin’ another meal until you do. We all earn our keep aboard ship.”
“Work? I know nothing of ships nor how to sail them.”
“You’ll be learnin’ fast or you’ll be swimming in the depths of the Atlantic with sharks and the like. Now get up.” The mate grabbed him roughly by the arm and hauled him out of the hammock-style bed.