Never Dance with a Marquess (The Never Series Book 2), Maggi Andersen [best short novels of all time TXT] 📗

Surprised, Carrie allowed her to lead her from the room. She glanced back at Lord Ludlow, who stared after them. Behind him, Monsieur Bettencourt glowered. He must be insulted. Carrie became breathless, keeping up with Gwen’s pace. She could not manage it with the same grace and was sure people were staring.

“What has happened?” she gasped. “Where is Nicholas?”

“My brother has left the ball. He plans to leave London in the morning.”

“He didn’t say goodbye!”

“No. He didn’t have time.”

Carrie pulled away from her. “Gwen, what is the matter?” She gasped. “It’s not Bella or Jeremy, is it?”

Gwen snatched up their reticules, shawls, and fans from their chairs and thrust them into Carrie’s arms. “No, he asked me to assure you it has nothing to do with them. But we must go home, Carrie. We’ll talk there.”

Carrie followed her, hugging her fan and reticule to her chest, her shawl trailing behind. “But I promised Monsieur Bettencourt the last dance. What will he think?”

“I don’t care what he thinks,” Gwen snapped. “You should not have accepted him. I am your chaperone, not your uncle.”

They complimented their host and hostess, Lord and Lady Fitzgibbon, on a wonderful ball where they stood at the door saying farewell to guests departing into the night.

Outside the mansion, Gwen urged Carrie into the waiting carriage as if they were escaping a fire.

They settled back against the squab as the carriage took them back to Gwen’s home.

“Nicholas acted strangely.” Carrie stared at her. “For goodness’ sake, Gwen. Please tell me what has happened.”

“I would prefer Nicholas to explain it to you, but as he isn’t here, I must. Your uncle is a dangerous rogue.” She related what Carrie’s father had told Nicholas about him.

“Uncle Simon might be a murderer? Why didn’t Nicholas tell me?” Carrie said aghast.

“Your father asked him not to.”

“But why?”

“You were too young to concern yourself with such a thing. And Jeremy and Bella were children. I suppose he hoped your uncle would never return to England.”

“But does Nicholas really think Uncle Simon wants to harm us?”

“He is not about to take that chance.”

Carrie sat forward. “If Nicholas isn’t concerned for Bella and Jeremy’s safety, why has he gone home?”

“He intends first to see your Aunt Penelope in Tunbridge Wells and ask her to come to Elm Park.”

“Then he considers this to be a serious threat. I want to return to Elm Park, Gwen. I should be there with Bella and Jeremy.”

“That was not his instructions.”

Carrie frowned. “Nevertheless, I will go. Would you take me? Or shall I go by mail coach?”

“Don’t be absurd, Carrie. Of course, you can’t go traipsing around the country on your own.”

“I won’t be alone. I’ll take Anna.”

Gwen sighed. “Leaving town will be frowned upon. I have accepted invitations to several…”

“That cannot matter now,” Carrie said firmly.

“I see there’s no arguing with you. Nicholas will be angry with me, and quite possibly Winston, when he learns of it,” Gwen said regretfully. “Very well. We will leave tomorrow.”

Carrie took her hands and squeezed them. “Thank you! You are very good.”

Gwen grimaced. “Yes, I am.” She yawned. “I declare I am growing too old to deal with all this excitement.”

Carrie kissed her cheek. “You are not!” She was going home again. A joyous feeling warmed her until she considered what might occur there. Was her uncle on his way to Elm Park? Did he have something terrible in mind? “Gwen, surely my uncle wouldn’t hurt Bella and Jeremy?”

“Not while Nicholas is there.”

“He is not going directly home. He is fetching Aunt Penelope in Kent, first.”

“Yes. But he will have alerted the household.”

Carrie took a deep, tremulous breath and fell silent. She would not sleep a wink tonight.

The next morning after breakfast, Gwen consulted the housekeeper who oversaw the maids' swift packing of their trunks. After writing letters of apology to several friends who expected them to attend their functions, they departed the house well before noon.

“This was not how I planned your Season to begin,” Gwen said with a sigh as they settled in the carriage with Anna.

“I know. Poor Gwen, to have been saddled with me. I am sorry.”

“Nonsense. I haven’t had so much fun in an age. Your absence will merely add to your allure,” Gwen said with a smile. “The Beau monde love a mystery. And we shall return before long. I am sure this journey will prove unnecessary. Nicholas will probably send us back forthwith!”

Carrie dismissed the stab of guilt at causing so much fuss. She was confident her decision was right. She sat back and viewed the Mayfair streets passing by the window. How long before she returned to London? She didn’t care. The city had been exciting, all the attention at the ball certainly flattering, and she loved the dancing. But it surprised her how much she wanted to be back at Elm Park again.

Chapter Seventeen

As the coach jostled along the road to Tunbridge Wells, Nicholas rested his head against his hand, his elbow on the window ledge. Was this a waste of time? He had little option; he couldn’t afford to take Simon Leeming’s threat lightly. Simon might at this very moment be on his way to see his aunt. But Nicholas had only a faint hope Lady Penelope, a woman of some sixty-five years, would agree to leave her home and accompany him on a mad dash to Surrey. She might be ill or frail. She had not attended Max’s funeral. He’d never met her and had little idea what she was like. The lady might harbor some resentment toward him because Max had chosen him to be his children’s guardian.

After the coach pulled up outside Grantley Grange, a redbrick manor house, he removed his hat and stood for