her. But something was amiss. Reade would have received word about it by now.
He hadn’t been about to risk revealing any of this to Joanna. She was so concerned for her friend he wasn’t confident she would leave the matter in his hands and go off tracing the maid’s journey, which might lead her into danger. The thought of losing her sent a bolt of fear through him. It pulled him up short. She was coming to mean too much to him.
Chapter Twelve
Reade’s eyes searched hers. “Joanna, promise me you won’t take any risks. I want nothing to happen to you.”
Her name on his lips made Jo weak at the knees. She wanted to run into his arms and have him carry her away. She wasn’t practical Jo from the country who knew what she wanted from life. Oh, God, she wanted him. His voice was low, husky, and imploring. Her pulse thrummed. She searched his eyes, which could look like brown velvet or hard as granite, depending on his mood. Was it concern or something more he felt for her? Or would she spend her life comparing every other man she met unfavorably to him?
His dark eyebrows lowered. “Promise?” he asked again, leaning forward in the saddle.
“I promise. Just find her, Reade,” she repeated. It wasn’t a lie. She wouldn’t be reckless.
“Shall I send you another feather if I hear anything more?” she called after him.
He shook his head, but a reluctant smile teased his lips. “A note will suffice. I pray there is no necessity for it.”
He urged his horse into a trot and left her.
A little giddy, she turned and climbed the steps. The parlor curtain twitched. With a sigh, she entered through the door held open by the butler.
“Mr. Ollerton has called, Miss Dalrymple,” Spears announced in a disapproving tone.
Alarm, like a cool breeze, crept up the back of her neck and brought her down with a thud. “Did my aunt speak to him, Spears?”
“He is with your aunt. They are in the parlor.”
Jo straightened her shoulders and entered the parlor.
Ollerton rose to his feet from beside her aunt on the sofa, where he appeared very much at home.
“Mr. Ollerton. How opportune to find you here, I planned to send you a note of apology.”
“Ah, Miss Dalrymple.”
Aunt Mary smiled up at her. “Jo, dear, I was just telling Mr. Ollerton how sorry you would be to miss him.”
Mr. Ollerton bowed. “I was most disappointed, Miss Dalrymple, but here you are.”
“I must apologize. It was a matter of some urgency, Mr. Ollerton,” Jo said, seating herself opposite him in an armchair. Before she could dredge up a convincing explanation, he held up his hand to silence her. “No need to apologize. Miss Hatton has told me about your missing friend, Miss Graham. It is most concerning. Have you learned anything about her whereabouts?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” Jo took the cup and saucer from Aunt Mary. “There seems nothing we can do. Charlotte might have left London.”
He raised his fair eyebrows. “Indeed? With no word to Mrs. Lincoln? While I hate to be condemning, it is not how a person should behave.”
“I’m sure Charlotte had good reason. I shall not judge her.”
“Quite so. How generous.” His smile seemed brittle and insincere to her, or was it because of Reade’s warning? Could Ollerton be one of those fortune hunters they spoke of? “You must forgive me. I am a trifle out of sorts. They have discovered another problem with my carriage. A crack in the axle. Your poor opinion of me for breaking our engagement distressed me so much, I had to come and explain.”
“That was good of you.” Without putting it into words, he pointed out how remiss she’d been not to notify him. She considered it manipulation and refused to apologize to him again.
He rose to make his departure and spent several minutes fawning, in Jo’s opinion, over Aunt Mary. Jo went out with him to find Sally hovering in the hall.
Mr. Ollerton moved past her maid without a glance.
“I need to see you in my bedchamber, Sally,” Jo said.
At the door, Ollerton would not take no for an answer as he extracted a promise to ride to the park with him when his carriage was, at last, in working order.
Jo returned to her aunt. Was he the fraud Reade had suggested? It was possible, although it no longer mattered. She would not see Ollerton again. Reade, whether there was ever anything more between them, filled her