Gilbert was just about to find a book to read to pass the time when Anna arrived in the parlor without warning. His wife looked lovely, if a little unsure of her surroundings as she paused at the doorway biting her bottom lip. He stood immediately and crossed the room to greet her, intent on claiming a midday kiss.

He’d considered doing that when he’d awoken beside her in her bed that morning. But hadn’t wanted to wake her when she was most likely tired after the events of last night and yesterday. She’d looked so adorable lying on her side, one hand stretched toward him in sleep, her shoulders still bare from making love to him. They had slept together, entwined in each other’s arms, for most of the night. But on waking, he’d stolen from the room like a thief, determined to leave her be.

But he hadn’t stopped thinking about her for one moment all morning long. He no longer lived alone and he already liked it.

He could still remember her hands pulling him close as they had made love in her bed. Her legs twined with his. Her gasps and moans mingling with his as they’d found their release close together. Tonight or the next night they would share his bed, and back and forth forever, he hoped.

Damn but he was a lucky man to have won her hand in marriage. She had been everything he’d hoped for in a lover.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured before capturing her lips.

Anna leaned into him, allowing him to kiss her deeply. She kissed him back, her fingers rising to his hair as he devoured her mouth. He lifted her higher, until her feet no longer touched the floor, and then moved her to the velvet couch beneath the window, where he’d been when she’d first come in, and pulled her into his lap.

He cradled her face, allowing the kiss to continue.

Anna seemed to be enjoying herself on his lap, squirming around and holding him tight to her. He considered his chances of making love to her again but dismissed the idea. He recalled her hissing in pain on his withdrawal last night, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her even more.

Her hands firmed on his face and then the cheeky minx flicked her tongue out to tangle with his in his mouth. He drew her under him on the soft cushions, fighting arousal even while building the passion higher with their kiss. Anna was delightfully warm when in his arms; he could pleasure her and deny himself. He’d enjoy watching her come again if could be sure they would not be disturbed.

He drew back, looking down into her flushed face. “Now that is a good morning kiss.”

She grinned back at him. “It is. Good morning, handsome.”

He eased back a few strands of hair from her cheek. “Carmichael will be here soon, I’m afraid.”

Anna blinked in surprise. “Today?”

“He is usually here by this hour. He is late actually, a concession, I suppose, to our status as newlyweds.”

A frown line appeared between her brows and she struggled to sit up. “Surely he wouldn’t call on us today of all days?”

He sat too but reached to brush his thumb across her soft cheek. “One of those newlyweds still has a murderer to catch.”

“Yes, but—”

A timid knock sounded on the door. “Is it safe to come in yet?”

“Good morning, Carmichael. We were just speaking of you, in fact,” he called and stood to straighten his coat.

Carmichael peeked into the room slowly. “Sorry about this, Anna. But there has been an unexpected development this morning.”

“What has happened?”

“It’s Miss Hayes,” he said.

Anna cried out, “No, she can’t be dead!”

He held up one hand to halt her panic. “She’s only missing, as far as I know. I know you care for her, and I didn’t want you to hear of it from anyone else, so I came straight away to tell you myself. I’ve called at her home already, at her father’s invitation. There are no signs of a struggle and not a drop of blood to be found anywhere, inside or out. I searched the nearby mews too, just to be sure.”

Anna sank into a chair with a moan. “I can’t lose Miss Hayes, too.”

Gilbert squeezed her shoulder and then addressed Carmichael. “Tell me what you know?”

“Her father came to see me this morning, asking for help in locating her. He’d read about our investigation in the papers and assumes the worst. Apparently, Portia went to bed at one o’clock, along with everyone else in the household. Morning came and she didn’t ring for her breakfast. Strangely, her maid is missing, too. Nothing was seen or heard that gives any clue about a likely abductor or the time she was taken.”

“We have to find her before she is harmed,” Anna demanded.

“Yes, I agree, but where to begin a search?” Gilbert reached for her hand even as he searched his memory for the details of his investigation. “This is out of character for what we know of our killer’s habits. In all other cases, they lured the victim to another part of the same property and killed them there. If Portia Hayes has vanished into thin air, it may well be someone else entirely has taken her.”

“Or perhaps the release of our information has made them desperate,” Carmichael worried out loud.

“Where could Portia be?” Anna looked at Carmichael.

“How would I know?” Carmichael complained.

Time was of the essence. “Would anyone besides a suitor have a motive for kidnapping Miss Hayes?”

“No,” both Lord Carmichael and Anna agreed.

“How much was her dowry again?”

“Four thousand pounds,” Anna told him. “Including property.”

He considered the trouble it would take to kidnap an heiress and make it to the border without being stopped. It might be more likely that she was taken with the intention of simply forcing an expedient marriage. “Tell me who had the best chance of winning her hand.”

“Carmichael or Grindlewood,” Anna tossed out without any hesitation. “If either one had asked, her father would have agreed. There would be no need to kidnap her.”

“She’ll never have a proposal from me,” Carmichael countered. “She had shown an interest in Lord Bellows as well last year. Bellows went back to his estate last week. I already called on Grindlewood. He is home and his movements accounted for.”

Gilbert turned to Anna, stunned by a sudden idea. “What chance did Lord Wade have?”

“None. I told you. Portia can barely stand him.” She sighed. “He might want to help us find her though.”

He might if fear hadn’t driven him away. “Lord Wade left London the day before we married.”

“So that’s why he never answered my invitation to come to our wedding.” She frowned severely at that. “He never said anything about leaving London the last time we spoke though.”

Carmichael laughed suddenly.

Gilbert stared at his friend. Now was not the time to recover his sense of humor. “What?”

Carmichael smiled slowly. “You don’t think Lord Wade abducted Miss Hayes, do you?”

“He left in broad daylight days ago. Alone, I’m sure.”

“He wouldn’t just take Portia!” Anna protested.

“Why not? And who’s to say he hasn’t turned around and come back by now to abduct her? Now I think about it, he’s shown a particular interest in Miss Hayes for some time. Practically glowers at me every time I dance with her because he saw me kiss her last year,” Carmichael said, frowning. “He’s a bachelor, and she’s a very eligible young woman. Plus, there is a murderer on the loose, and Miss Hayes is exactly the type of young woman to foolishly place herself in harm’s way. She could be on her way to Gretna Green even now.”

“Or he could have abducted her just to keep her safe from the murderer and has not fled anywhere,” Anna argued, looking worried about that prospect, too. “And Portia’s maid could be with them to act as chaperone so her reputation remains beyond reproach.”

He thought about the likelihood. Either scenario had merit but he wasn’t keen to pursue an elopement to the border. “I say, what property comes attached to winning Miss Hayes’ hand in marriage?”

“Why?”

“Well, we know Wade is not in his home. The house has been closed up for the season. I had someone watching in case he came back, but they said all was quiet still as of yesterday morning. If Wade needed to tuck Miss Hayes away somewhere, he might just use one of her own properties to hide her in.”

“I know of one,” Anna offered suddenly. “Portia has a favorite, and it isn’t far.”

“Let’s go,” Carmichael suggested.

Gilbert turned to his wife. Their first day as husband and wife was not supposed to be like this. “Do you mind?”

“If Wade has taken Portia, I’m coming with you to ring a peal over his head.”

Gilbert smiled grimly. “I’ll have a carriage brought round.”

“It will be quicker to hail a hack,” Anna argued.

“You are quite right, my dear.” He kissed her quickly and rushed from the room, collected his small pistol just in case Wade proved resistant and ordered his butler to flag down a hack. By the time he returned from donning his hat and gloves, Anna was ready to go. She and Carmichael appeared congenial enough, for which he was grateful—until they spoke.

“I can’t believe you fell for it,” Carmichael complained.

“I was fourteen,” she countered.

He looked between them. “Arguing again?”

“Reexamining the past,” Carmichael explained. “She’s like a dog with a bone about her first kiss.”

“It is an important moment for any young woman,” Anna argued.

“I see that now.”

Anna snatched her parasol from where it now hung on the stand by the front door and brandished it. “Never touch my possessions again.”

“I replaced the blasted parasol,” Carmichael protested. “Years ago.”

“Six months later,” she complained, and then turned toward the front door smiling widely, despite the argument. He suspected she was enjoying herself berating Carmichael like that.

“I’m starting to have second thoughts about you marrying her,” Carmichael confided, as they both watched Anna stroll to the top of the steps and outside. “This will not end well for me.”

Gilbert smiled. “I’m not unhappy if you have to apologize for every wrong you ever did to her. You went above and beyond gentlemanly conduct to make her dislike you.”

He followed his wife to the carriage, relayed the address they wished to visit to the driver and helped Anna inside. He took a place beside her, and then Carmichael joined them.

“What do we do if she’s there, and he’s there too?” Carmichael asked. “Do we force a marriage between them even if she has a maid?”

Anna hefted her parasol and waved it about as if it were a sword. “I have my weapon of choice.”

Gilbert lowered the tip back to the floor when she swung too close to Carmichael for comfort. “No bloodshed.”

“Oh, very well. But she’s my very good friend. He claimed to be one, too. I reserve the right to be outraged.”

Gilbert collected her hand and pressed a kiss to the back. “I won’t stop you there.”

They were soon at the Soho Square property Anna had described. Gilbert told the driver to keep moving as he saw a curtain twitch when the carriage drew level with the front door. He turned his face away so he was not recognized by anyone within.

Anna tugged on his sleeve. “Why are we not stopping?”

“He’s not going to open the front door to us if he has her,” Gilbert warned. “We’ll enter discreetly from the rear lane and see if we can surprise him,” he suddenly decided. Stealth and surprise were useful tools when hunting wary prey.

Gilbert had the driver stop around the corner on the next street. They alighted, slipped quietly along the rear mews and into the small cobbled yard attached to the rear of the property. They paused before a heavy-looking door. “It will be locked.”

He looked at the windows facing the lane, and then noticed one lower down had been boarded up from the inside with new timbers. He crouched down and studied how they might enter that way.

Anna leaned over him and whispered, “A locked door is not a problem when you know where a key to open it might be found.”

Gilbert looked up at her in surprise. “There’s a key just lying around outside?”

Anna nodded. “The spare. Portia showed me where it was kept herself when we came here together, but it is not easy to reach.”

“Does your father know about this?”

She shook her head quickly. “Instead of going shopping, as her parents had believed we had, we—Portia and our maids and I—came here to spend an hour without chaperones or callers of any kind the other week.”

“Defying your father?” Carmichael whistled. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m not always good.” She shrugged. “Portia once said that if she ever couldn’t be found, she’d most likely be hiding here—dreaming of a life where she was her own mistress.”

She moved toward the boundary wall, crept close to the corner of the house, and reached deep into the darkness. Gilbert cringed at her location and would have offered to replace her, if he’d thought a man his size could fit in the gap.

Anna withdrew slowly, brandishing a key in triumph. “Portia usually keeps one in her reticule at all times, too—for emergencies, she’d claimed. That one is for the front door only. She said if I ever had dire need of a safe haven, to come here and let myself in.”

“This situation sounds exactly like the sort of emergency anyone would run from, and there is nowhere better to hide I think than an abandoned dwelling she already owned,” Carmichael mused. “Very smart, really.”

Anna unlocked the rear door quietly, warning them to step widely over the threshold to avoid the board that squeaked.

The house was silent but not empty, it seemed. The dark was cluttered with things Portia’s uncle must have collected over the years. Even though these were the servants’ domain, the hallways seemed to be piled high and required careful navigation.

He stayed close to his wife, anxious that they not stumble upon anyone, trusting that Carmichael would close the door behind them and follow just as quietly.

He considered putting Anna between them for safety’s sake but he didn’t think she would agree. She was as anxious as he was to find Miss Hayes and save her from Lord Wade’s abduction, if that was what had happened. Besides, only Anna knew where she was going in the near total dark. It would be quicker to let her direct them until the way forward became clearer.

He remembered the drapes twitching on a high front window on the right. Portia Hayes or Lord Wade would not be downstairs, unless one of them needed water or food to eat.

Speaking of food. He leaned down to whisper in his wife’s ear. “Where are the kitchens in this house?”

Anna pointed to the side and they moved there in near silence. Gilbert eased around her when she leaned aside. “The lower halls gave me the creeps when I was here,” she confessed.

At the kitchen doorway, he stopped and glanced inside. There were signs of recent habitation. Plates and cups set out on the old wooden work table—three of them. And a familiar picnic basket.

He shook his head, realizing their fears were spot on. Lord Wade was keeping Portia Hayes his unwilling prisoner in this house.

Carmichael squeezed past them both, going to the fire, hand outstretched, and then to the tea things on the table.

“Stone cold,” Carmichael whispered as he put the china teapot back down.

Anna’s sigh of relief was too loud, and Gilbert tensed as she spoke. “She wouldn’t ever leave a mess behind. She’s still here.”

“You really are much too clever, you know, Lady Sorenson,” Lord Wade complained as he grabbed Anna’s arm and jerked her against his chest before Gilbert could stop him.