“I want London torn apart. I want that bloody hackney found. Now!” More savage wolf than man, Felix stormed out of Bow Street with Owen hot on his heels. Helpless to do anything but wait, Mrs. Atwood stayed behind, hands clasped to her breast as she sent up a fervent prayer for her daughter’s safe return.
She’d known something was wrong the minute the children had woken and Felicity was still not home. Leaving Henry and Anne with her neighbor, a sweet elderly woman with enough breakables to keep them entertained for the rest of the day, she had gone straight to Bow Street. Straight to Felix.
Part of her had hoped she would see her daughter when she opened the door, but all of that hope vanished in an instant when she saw the fear in Felix’s eyes.
“What do you mean she’s gone missing?” he’d demanded. “It’s nearly ten o’clock. She should have returned over an hour ago.”
“Well I can assure you she did not.”
“She’s still at my townhouse, then.”
But Mrs. Atwood had been able to tell by the look in his eyes that he did not really believe that, and neither did she.
Oh my darling girl, she thought silently, watching through the front window as Felix and the Captain mounted their horses and tore off down the street in a wild clatter of hooves. Please come back to me.
Felicity stared at the gun in horror. “Ezra, what are you doing?”
“What I should have done instead of divorcing you.” A thin sheen of perspiration marred his brow. Holding the gun in one hand, he used the other to dab at his forehead with a white silk handkerchief.
Both hands trembled.
“You were supposed to be well behaved. You were supposed to be a lady. But you brought shame to yourself. You brought shame to me. You brought shame to our marriage!”
“I did nothing of the sort.” The woman Felicity used to be would have been the very picture of contriteness. The woman who had dutifully sat in the House of Lords with her head bowed and her hands clutched together while her character was torn asunder would have dropped to her knees and begged for forgiveness. But that woman was gone. And she was never coming back. “I was a good wife to you, Ezra. Better than you ever deserved. If there is anyone who should be ashamed, it is you. You had an affair. You wanted a divorce. You threw your wife and children out the door with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.”
“Because of that bastard son you bore! Do you know I was laughed out of White’s? They said you made a cuckold out of me!”
“You know that is not true,” she said evenly. “You know what really happened.”
“But they didn’t! I was laughed at.” His eyes glittered in the darkness. Not with madness. Felicity knew what madness looked like, and this was not it. This was pride and desperation. This was a man who thought he’d lost everything, and was willing to do anything to get it back.
“And then you divorced me and you remarried. It is over, Ezra. It has been over for a long time. Why are you doing this now?”
“Because they’re whispering again!” He gesticulated wildly with his arms and the gun jerked, causing Felicity to flinch and duck. “They’re gossiping, again. They’re laughing, again! You should have gone away. Why couldn’t you have just gone away? Instead you’ve been parading yourself all over London. With a commoner!” A vein bulged in his forehead. “You slapped Lady Manheim!”
“She deserved it.”
“What happened to you?” he whispered. “You were so perfect. So ladylike.”
“I think obedient is the word you are looking for. I was obedient. Like a dog or a horse or a well-trained cat. But I am not the same person I was, Ezra. And neither are you.” She should have been repulsed by him. She should have been afraid. But as she looked at him, a small, desperate man clinging to desperate things, the only thing she felt was pity. “Does the opinion of others mean so much to you that you would take another person’s life? Because the only thing murdering me will do is put you in Newgate.” If Felix doesn’t kill you first, she thought silently.
Oh Felix. And Henry. And little Anne. Her chest tightened. What if she never saw them again?
No, she told herself fiercely when she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. You cannot afford to think like that. Felix said you were the strongest woman he has ever known, and you need to use that strength now.
“Put the gun down, untie my hands, and open the door. Let me go. Let me go, and this will all be over.”
“So you can return to the theater and cause another scene?” His mouth curled back in a sneer. “I think not! This ends here. I will not have you tied around my neck for the rest of my life.”
“Is that where you think I’ve been? Around your neck?” She shook her head. “That is your own guilt, Ezra. And the only one to blame for it is yourself.”
“No.” He lifted the gun. Pointed it at her heart. “No, you’re wrong. When you’re gone, they’ll stop laughing. When you’re gone, my reputation will be restored. When you’re gone, I will finally have peace.”
“Ezra, wait–”
He pulled the trigger.
Felix rode as if the demons of hell were nipping at his heels. Even Owen, an adept equestrian in his own, right could not keep up with him as he galloped through the Mayfair District, sending carriages veering off course and bystanders scattering in all directions.
He dismounted before his horse had come to a full halt, and did not bother to knock before he threw open the door to 374 Beacon Lane and stormed inside.
“Sir! Sir, you cannot be in here!” An alarmed butler came rushing into the foyer. One glance at Felix’s thunderous expression and he stopped dead in his tracks. “How – how can I help you, sir?”
“Ashburn.” Felix all but spit the name. “Where is he?”
“I – I am afraid I do not – ahhh!” the butler yelped when Felix grabbed him by the lapels of his black uniform and shoved him against the wall.
“Where. Is. Ashburn,” he gritted out between clenched teeth, golden eyes feral in their intensity.
“Spencer, unhand the butler.” Stepping through the open doorway, Owen assessed the situation in one passing glance. “How do you know Ashburn even has her?”
“Because I know.”
It wasn’t an answer, but it was good enough for Owen. Spencer’s gut was one of the things he valued most about him. If he thought Ashburn was involved, then Ashburn was involved.
“Where is your employer?” he asked the white-faced butler. “It would behoove you to answer honestly. And quickly.”
“I do not – all right,” he gasped when Felix growled. “All right. Lord Ashburn left rather unexpectedly two hours ago.”
Almost exactly the same time Felicity would have gotten into the hackney. If she’d gotten into the hackney. Felix’s hands clenched into fists.
“Where was he going?”
“I am not certain. But! But,” he said hurriedly when Felix took a menacing step towards him, “Lady Ashburn may know. She is generally privy to all of her husband’s comings and goings. If you would f-follow me.” He led them directly to her dressing chamber. She was in the midst of having her hair curled with long silver tongs, and her mouth dropped open with outrage when Felix and Owen piled into the room.
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. A pale, watery-eyed blonde with a distracting mole above the left side of her mouth, Lady Ashburn was no great beauty. But she did come from an impeccable bloodline. “Get out at once!”
“We apologize for the intrusion,” Owen began.
“Your husband,” Felix interrupted. “Where is he?”
He could not say with any real conviction why he knew Ashburn had taken Felicity. There was certainly no evidence, nor any witnesses. But he felt it. In his bones, he felt that Ashburn was involved and that he was on the verge of doing something dire – if he hadn’t already.
“Ezra?” Lady Ashburn waved her maid out of the room with a flick of her wrist. “What do you want with Ezra?”
His head on a bloody platter if he’s harmed one hair on Felicity’s head.
“Lord Ashburn’s first wife has gone missing,” said Owen.
Lady Ashburn’s gaze shifted to the Captain. “And you think my husband has something to do with it?”
“We do.”
Her lips pursed. “He has seemed rather…unsettled as of late. I never really thought anything of it, but now that you mention Miss Atwood it does seem rather odd…”
“What?” Felix’s jaw clenched. “What does?”
“Well, it’s just that he has suddenly become very interested in textiles. I do not see what it would have to do with his first wife, but he did mention he was going to tour one of the factories this morning.”
“A factory in the East End?”
Lady Ashburn rolled her eyes. “But of course. Where else would a factory be? Now if you would excuse me, I really need to finish getting ready. I have a luncheon at noon.”