Shameless - By Annie Stuart Page 0,100

or even all the way to Hyde Park. And she never came back. No tea, no supper, and her bed hasn’t been slept in.”

“She wouldn’t have run away,” Melisande said flatly, trying to force her brain into full working mode despite the lingering effect of the damned laudanum.

“Of course not. Which means only one thing.”

The gaggle were listening avidly, but they were all women of the world, and knew the answer as well as she did. “It means she was taken.”

“No!” Mollie Biscuits let out a cry, tears running down her plump cheeks. “Not that poor wee child!”

“It’s the Heavenly Host,” Violet piped up helpfully, causing the rest of the gaggle to start talking, so loudly that Melisande could barely think.

“Enough!” Emma cried, temporarily shutting them up while doing absolutely nothing for Melisande’s headache. “If they’ve taken her, and there’s no guarantee that they did, then Lady Carstairs can get her back. She’s been working very hard this week, and Viscount Rohan has been assisting her. Cook, bring us up a pot of strong tea and some of those little cakes you’ve been experimenting with. Violet, you take the others and go out looking. It’s always possible that Betsey simply got lost and found an alley to sleep in. She had to do it often enough when she was younger, poor thing.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cadbury,” Violet said importantly. “And lord knows she’s at a good age. Too old for the gents who like the young ones, yet not old enough for those who like a bit of meat with their brisket.” She plumped her full breast with one hand.

“What does that even mean?” Long Jane, beside her, demanded.

“It means she’s got a good chance at being safe enough,” Sukey said. “God willing.” Sukey’s tenure with the bishop had left some of his piety intact.

There were a few added “God willings” from the more religious of the gaggle, as they slowly started to disperse, and Emma took Melisande’s arm, hurrying her back into her bedroom.

“I’ll help you dress,” she said briskly. “We haven’t any time to waste.” She paused enough to look at her. “I wish we had time to talk about your night with Rohan, but Betsey’s been gone for far too long, and we can’t afford to waste any more time.”

“Nothing happened,” Melisande said stoutly.

“God give me strength,” Emma muttered, pulling the robe off her shoulders. “Of course it did. You just don’t want to talk about it, which I assume means he either botched the job or you didn’t like it. Whichever it was, we can deal with it later.”

“There’s nothing to be dealt with. I told you, nothing happened.” She let Emma hand her into one of her narrow walking dresses, then began fastening the long row of buttons up the front.

“Then why is your body adorned with such interesting signs, may I ask you? Clearly my lord Rohan likes to mark his partners, though that must be something new. Unusual for someone who prides himself on his self-control.”

Melisande touched her breast instinctively, then snatched her hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I fell.”

“Of course you did. And the bruise just happens to be the size and shape of a mouth. I didn’t see teeth marks, which is a good thing. The ones who leave teeth marks can be a little strange.”

For a moment the memory, almost physical, of Benedick biting down on her earlobe as her arousal built to hit her like a blow. “Don’t we have something more important to discuss? Has anyone been seen loitering around here? Half of London knows the women live here, but Betsey is the only innocent. It makes no sense that anyone would be searching for a virgin here. Unless Aileen was forced to tell them.”

“I don’t know,” Emma said bleakly. “But I have a very bad feeling about this. Do you want me to have a note delivered to Viscount Rohan, or will you go there directly?”

As if things weren’t desperate enough. She ducked her head so that Emma wouldn’t see the absolute horror that suffused her face. She would go nowhere near Benedick Rohan, ever again. He had made his disdain for her perfectly clear.

Which meant she had to find Betsey on her own. “Have the girls finished with the monk’s robe they were making?”

“It’s in your closet. Does that mean you think the Heavenly Host really did take her?”

“They need a virgin for tomorrow…tonight. How and why they knew is beyond me.” Maybe Rohan

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