Raven (Gentlemen of the Order #2) - Adele Clee Page 0,20

be close to one o’clock in the morning. Miss Draper is asleep in bed and has no intention of fleeing to the woods.”

“Hush.” Finlay glared at the doctor who was pacing before the fire in the grand bedchamber, casting a monstrous shadow on the wall. “You will wake Lady Adair.”

One glance at Sophia sleeping peacefully in his bed sparked the usual ache. She lay snuggled under his greatcoat, the garment swamping her body as he longed to do.

“I have other patients to see tomorrow,” the doctor whispered. “Surely you don’t expect to keep vigil all night.”

Finlay ignored the doctor’s whining and scanned the courtyard for the umpteenth time. One would struggle to see a figure moving through the darkness and so he had opened the window in the hope of hearing footsteps crunching on the gravel. If Anne was true to her word, she would alert them the minute Jessica left the house, unless the maid had fallen asleep on her truckle bed.

They waited.

Sophia’s sweet moan disturbed the silence. She stretched her arms above her head in the sensual way women did when anticipating pleasure, but did not open her eyes.

The muscles in Finlay’s abdomen tightened. He knew her intimately, had made her climax with the skilled strum of his fingers while frolicking in the hay barn. They might have made love there, all those years ago, and he almost wished they had. Perhaps the yearning wouldn’t be so intense.

“When you were sitting with Jessica earlier, I heard you discuss Mr Archer at length,” Finlay said to distract his mind from thoughts of loving Sophia. Although he’d given the doctor privacy, he had listened at the door and tried to follow their discourse. “Are all your methods based on delving into the past?”

“Wallner’s theory on memory manipulation states I must take the patient back to the moment before they experienced trauma.”

Finlay knew of Hans Wallner’s work. “You mean you re-imprint the memory. You have the patient create another outcome in the hope of freeing them from their mental cage.”

“Precisely.” Dr Goodwin seemed surprised at the depth of Finlay’s knowledge.

“And you do not consider that dangerous?”

“Dangerous?” Goodwin snorted.

Meddling with people’s minds.

Playing God.

Playing judge and jury.

“Altering Jessica’s perception of reality. No doubt you cast Mr Archer as the hero of the tale, not a scoundrel who couldn’t keep his cock in his breeches.”

Goodwin’s mouth dropped open. Clearly, he was unused to plain speaking. “Healing the mind is the priority,” the doctor said. “What would—”

The sudden pounding of footsteps on the landing brought the conversation to an abrupt end. Finlay charged to the door and flung it open just as the maid raised her hand to knock. One look at the woman’s eyes, wide and full of panic, told him all he needed to know.

“Miss Draper has left the house,” Finlay stated, yet he had not heard the boards creak or heard her padding downstairs. “How long ago?”

Anne took to fidgeting and fumbling with her fingers. “I’m unsure, s-sir.”

“You fell asleep?” He could hardly rant at Anne’s incompetence. Caring for Jessica had left the poor woman exhausted. “Do you remember the last time you heard the clock chime?”

“I—I heard the stroke of midnight, sir.”

So, Jessica had at least a half an hour start. That said, he imagined her wandering aimlessly, not racing towards the woods with purpose.

He turned to Dr Goodwin. “Fetch Blent and help him with the hounds. But he is not to approach her. Is that clear? We need to know what draws her outside.”

“You expect me to traipse outdoors at night?” Goodwin’s grimace spoke of cowardice.

“Don’t you want to cure your patient?”

The doctor sighed but continued muttering his complaint as he pushed past the maid and stomped downstairs.

Finlay focused on Anne, her trembling bottom lip rousing suspicion. “What is it, Anne? You’ve something else to tell me.”

Anne scrunched her nose. “It’s about Miss Draper, sir. The door to the back stairs was wide open. She … she might have taken the servants’ exit.”

Damnation! “I told you to lock that door.”

“I did, sir.” She tugged the string around her neck and pulled the key from inside the bodice of her brown twill dress. “I don’t know how Miss Draper opened the door, but she didn’t use my key.”

Finlay didn’t have time to examine the matter further. “We’ll discuss this later. You’re to wait here. Ring the church bell if Miss Draper arrives home before we do.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Anne took the lit oil lamp from the console table on the