Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower #2) - Maggi Andersen Page 0,53
three-fifteen. The park doesn’t become busy until five. Hopefully, we won’t have to wait long,” she said almost to herself as she shrugged out of her morning dress.
In the park, dark threatening clouds banked up in the sky, the wind stirring the branches. How foolish not to bring an umbrella. She had been so distracted; she hadn’t noticed the change in the weather. The chance of rain had kept the ton away, for the park was almost deserted.
They waited an hour as the sky darkened. Reade did not come. Had he received her note? Mr. Black would ensure he got it. And Reade would never let her down. She rubbed her arms. “I imagine the Regent has delayed him.”
They waited a further fifteen minutes. “I’ve just had a thought, Sally,” Jo said. “Lord Reade might have driven through the Hyde Park gate in his curricle.”
“Shall I walk over there?” Sally asked.
“No. You wait here. I’ll go.” Jo hurried toward Rotten Row. She searched the South Carriage Drive for a dark blue curricle driven by a pair of gray horses, and he wasn’t on horseback. The traffic thinned as rain clouds hovered overhead. The rest of the people deserted the park. Thinking Reade might have arrived and was with Sally, she turned to go back. Someone hailed her.
Jo spun around, expecting to see Reade.
A carriage stopped, and the door opened. Beckoned forward, Jo hurried over, but it was Mr. Ollerton seated inside. “I thought I saw you, Miss Dalrymple. Only fancy. What are you doing in the park on your own?”
“Good day to you, Mr. Ollerton. I am here with my maid. She is over by the Brook Street gate. I am looking for a…a friend.”
A drop of rain splattered on her bonnet.
“The weather has turned nasty. I have an umbrella here. Please allow me to give it to you.”
Jo approached him. “How kind, thank you.” She walked over to the door and held out her hand.
Ollerton’s gloved hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled Jo inside the carriage. She opened her mouth to scream but was roughly shoved to the floor.
Gripped by sheer terror, for a moment she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, and then she gasped, “Your name’s not Ollerton. You’re Virden, aren’t you?”
“Be quiet. I have a knife, and I won’t hesitate to use it.”
Icy dread flooded her veins as the carriage juddered forward. Jo’s stomach churned. Sally hadn’t seen her with Ollerton. Reade wouldn’t know what had happened to her. “Let me go. I’m no good to you.”
“You underestimate yourself.”
She swallowed on a sob. “What do you want?”
“You will know soon enough. Finding you alone is most fortuitous.”
“My maid will have seen you. She will run home and alert my father.”
She felt cold steel on the back of her neck and shuddered. “Do not toy with me,” he snarled. “Were you responsible for snatching your friend Charlotte Graham away from the brothel?”
The carriage was now traveling fast, rocking from side to side. “No, but I’m glad she is safe. You are a monster!”
“I saw you in the street outside my house. How did you know I lived there?”
Jo gasped and raised her head to stare at him. “Your house?”
He pushed her down. “Enough! You shall tell me all about it when we arrive.”
“Let me go. You can’t get away with this.”
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t consider you, it’s true. You’re a bad risk. But my plans have changed.”
“What do you want from me?” Jo asked again. But she feared his answer.
“If you don’t be quiet, you’ll come to regret it.”
Jo shivered and buried her head in her arms as a hot tear seeped onto her cheek. Where was he taking her?
Reade spent several hours with the Prince Regent, placating him after a long diatribe ended with a demand to be told about the investigation. He assured the prince it was advancing steadily. He wasn’t required to go into details, but Prinny’s interest puzzled him. Usually, criminal activity that involved the lower-classes or the poor didn’t capture his attention unless it was a threat to royalty or the government.
Reade arrived home in the late afternoon to change for the evening. He found Black waiting for him. He handed Reade a note. “From Miss Dalrymple, sir.”
A brief missive that gave him no clue as to the reason she wished to see him. He snatched up his hat and rushed out to hail a hackney.
When he and Black reached the Brook Street gate, a woebegone figure stood in the rain. He