“It didn’t come to that,” he said with an ugly turn to his mouth. “She left on her own.”
Reading’s eyes narrowed. “How?”
“Someone saw her departing soon after you left. Were you fool enough to go after the sister?”
“You knew I would,” Reading said.
“Indeed. You’re still young and foolish enough to believe in love.”
“And you don’t, Francis?” he said gently. “I think Elinor loved you.”
“I didn’t give you leave to call her by her given name,” Rohan snapped drunkenly.
“I wasn’t aware that it was your permission I needed,” Reading said wryly. “Where is she?”
“Damned if I know.”
“You most certainly are.” Reading kept his voice pleasant. “How do you know she’s gone?”
“Went back to her room. Rooms. I put her away from the riffraff, and when I went to find her she was gone.”
“Perhaps she knew that was what you wanted.”
“How the hell did she know what I wanted?” Rohan argued with drunken logic. “I didn’t know what I wanted.”
Reading looked at him in frustration. “You’ve cocked this up badly, Francis. It isn’t at all like you—you have more finesse. I can only think there must be something else at play here. Perhaps something on your part.”
“I beg you, Charles, spare me your sentimentality,” Rohan said.
Reading shook his head. “I need to find her, Francis, for her sister’s sake if for no other. I would think you’d feel some responsibility…”
“None,” he said succinctly, taking another drink from the bottle. “She may go wherever she wishes and tup anyone she chooses. I’m done with her.”
Charles rose, crossed the room and grabbed the bottle, smashing it in the fireplace. Rohan leaped from his seat with drunken fury, murder in his eyes, and then his face went blank as he stood there for a moment, then gracefully passed out in Charles’s arms.
Charles let his old friend down carefully on the littered floor and went to the door. Willis was already waiting, with coffee and food on a tray, a bowl of warm water and fresh clothes over his arm.
“What happened to her, Willis?”
“It’s uncertain, Mr. Reading, but I had word that she was seen leaving in the company of a gentleman.”
Alarm swept through Reading. There was no member or guest of this devil’s retinue who was a fitting companion for Elinor Harriman.
“I believe it was Baron Tolliver. He’s a relative newcomer, and I gather he has some relation to the lady.”
“So she’s safe.”
Willis looked torn. “As for that, I’m not certain, Mr. Reading. I took it upon myself to see what I could find out about the situation. He’d hired a carriage to transport them to Calais, from whence I can only assume he’s planning to return to England. With Miss Harriman.”
He should be relieved. If she was with the titular head of her family then he should have nothing to worry about. Except that this was the very man that Rohan had been gathering information about, though he’d been damn secretive about it.
The time for secrets had passed. “Bring some very cold water, Willis. I think it’s time for Lord Rohan to face the mess he’s made of his life.”
“Indeed, sir.” He nodded, bowing.
Charles didn’t wait for Willis’s return. He opened the doors to the snowy terrace and went back to Rohan’s unconscious body. He was too big to lift, so Charles simply dragged him across the floor to the door, hoisting him over the doorjamb until he went face-first in the snow.
He came to quite quickly, heading for Charles once more. “Enough,” Charles thundered, holding one arm out to keep him at bay. “You’ve spent enough time feeling sorry for yourself. It’s time for you to sober up and do something.”
“I could do your intended,” Rohan said evilly in a deliberate attempt to get Charles to hit him.
“She’s my wife, you degenerate bastard. And you know perfectly well she’s not the Harriman you want. Elinor went off with that new cousin of hers—she’s probably in England by now. We’re going to have make absolutely certain she’s—” He stopped as Rohan began to curse. “What?”
But Rohan seemed to have shaken off the vast amount of whiskey he’d had. He rose to his full, impressive height. “Get my valet,” he snapped. “And order my coach.”
“Willis is bringing water and fresh clothes,” Charles said warily. “But why bring your coach? She’s already back in England by now, and you certainly can’t even think of going there.”
“Can’t I, Charles?” he said in a grim voice, stripping off his torn and stained