A good knight knows how to shine his own armor.
Devan Farris
When Avalon walked the brick path to the vicarage door, Devan was leaning against the doorjamb waiting for her. Without his morning coat and with the last button of his waistcoat undone, he looked like a man of leisure. However, the disarray of his hair indicated that he’d been running his fingers through his dark locks while working diligently on his weekly sermon.
For someone who let others believe he didn’t put any labor into his work, Devan put a tremendous amount of effort into his parish.
“I saw you through the window,” he said. His brow creased into thin lines. “I can tell by your expression that something is the matter.”
“Sophia’s missing. I think she’s taken Penelope to Mary Bolen’s brothel.”
“What’s given you that idea?” Devan took her hands in his. Their size and warmth provided comfort, something she sorely needed.
The Warwyk carriage came to a halt in front of them. Devan nodded at the driver, Dalton Sweet, Warwyk’s oldest groomsman, who hopped down to help Henri exit the carriage.
“My lady, it looked like a downpour, so Mr. Sweet and I thought we’d come for you.” The wind picked up, blowing several strands of her maid’s hair loose. Henri smoothed it back into place. “Of course, after you finish your tea with the vicar.”
“Have you seen Sophia?” Avalon asked, still holding on to Devan.
“No, my lady. She left early this morning to see Jasmine and Flora. Said she was going to see Miss Penelope afterward.”
“Keep the horses warm, won’t you, Mr. Sweet?” Devan took Avalon’s arm, then assisted her inside. “We won’t be but a minute.”
“Yes, sir,” Dalton replied.
The accompanying groomsman waved his hand in acknowledgment.
Once they were inside, Devan closed the door. “Tell me what’s happened.”
“Mrs. Rowley said that Renford is coming tomorrow and she can’t find Penelope…” She squeezed her eyes, stemming the burn of tears that clouded her vision. “I think Sophia heard us discussing Penelope at breakfast. She went to Flora and Jasmine and asked about Mary Bolen’s establishment.”
Lightning flashed, enveloping the entire room in brilliant light before a crash of thunder rent the air. The carriage horses neighed in sudden fear. Of all the times for it to storm, not now.
Avalon grimaced at the thunder. “Sophia hates storms.” She tugged his arm toward the door. “I’m scared. Neither of the girls have been to that part of London before. Let’s hurry.”
“Sweetheart, we’ll find them,” Devan answered. “Let me get my coat.”
Any other time she’d have basked in the affectionate term, but not now. Not when Sophia and Penelope were likely in danger. Though most in society only saw London as a fairy-tale place at night with balls, soirees, and musicales to fill their social calendars, Avalon knew better. The dark streets and narrow alleys were a haven for criminals and men who hunted for young women.
Dear God above, let them be safe. Avalon closed her eyes, desperate for the girls to walk through the door.
He led her into his study where papers and half a cup of tea sat waiting for him. He let go of her, and she wanted to cry out at the loss of his touch. He donned his morning jacket, then blew out the candles lighting his desk.
Funny how within a few short days he’d become the person she went to when she was troubled or needed help.
He escorted her to the door, then pulled her close as he whipped his greatcoat over both their heads to keep the stinging rain from assaulting them. Henri waited inside the carriage. Before he could tell the coachman where to drive, Avalon directed him to London.
Devan whipped off his beaver hat, then laid it on the seat beside him. “Perhaps she went to Annie’s for a visit. We should make our way there before we set off for London.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Avalon looked at the rain streaming down the carriage windows. The weather was worsening. “She planned to spend the day with Annie tomorrow.”
“My lady, let me walk back to Warwyk Hall. I’ll search the house, and you and the vicar go on to London.” Henri drew her wet cloak tighter. “If she’s there, I’ll have a groomsman ride to catch you.”
“But it’s storming,” Avalon argued. “I can’t allow you to do that.”
“Then I’ll ask Mrs. Rowley to take me,” Henri said.
Avalon hesitated, then nodded.
Henri grabbed Avalon’s hands in hers. “Godspeed, my lady.” With a nod, she was out the door, running through the driving rain.
Fighting the wind, Devan shut the door, then knocked. The carriage sprang forward.
“Let’s go directly to the White Dove,” Avalon said. “The girls must be at Mary’s bawdy house within the financial district. Mr. Sweet knows where it is.”
The air grew dense, like in the moments before a storm unleashed its unyielding power. If she’d said she was carrying a child due to another immaculate conception, she didn’t think she could have shocked him more.
“You’ve been there?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” She tilted her chin defiantly. “Will you feel uncomfortable going there?”
“No. I’ve been there too.” His long legs framed hers, and he leaned forward. Though it was almost dark, his gaze pierced hers like a knife. “Larkton went there regularly with Warwyk.”
“When I was married to Richard?” She tried to mask any outward sign that she was unsettled by his statement, but a wild twitch below her left eye betrayed her.
Devan placed his hands on either side of her hips, then leaned his weight forward. His face came within inches of hers, close enough that he brushed his nose against hers.
“I’m sorry if I sound abrupt.” She didn’t pull away at his touch. At this moment, she’d take all the comfort she could get. “Warwyk always brings out the worst in me.”
“My brother took me there so ‘I could become a man.’”
“How ridiculous,” she answered. The warmth in his eyes immediately relaxed her. “Your brother is beyond foolish.”
“Your perception matches mine.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I sat in the receiving room where all the women appeared. It was like a scene from a comedy. Apparently, my brother told them I was a virgin. Immediately, they all vied for my favors.”
“What did you do?”
“I politely told them that they were all lovely, but I wasn’t interested as I was saving myself.” He bent and shook his head. “All the prostitutes thought it was charming, which increased their interest in me. By the time Larkton was ready to leave, we were all having tea together and chatting away. Mary Bolen sat next to me. When my brother called me a wastrel in front of all those women, I thought they were going to revolt and lead a mob against him. He never took me there or to any other brothel again. But he took me to Warwyk’s that day with the same intention. That’s when I saw you hurt and upset.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I’ve told no one.”
She placed her hand on his face. His heat felt like heaven, and the soft hint of his beard soothed her. “I like it that you’re sharing it with me.”
He turned his head and kissed her palm. “Before the end of the week, you’ll know everything about me.”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to keep my mind off the girls.” She searched his eyes as her shoulders hunched together in a defensive action.
“Avalon,” he murmured. He leaned forward, and in reaction, she leaned forward also. “You don’t have to make this trip. I can see Mary Bolen myself.”
“No, you misunderstand. You see, Mary Bolen”—she struggled with the right explanation—“came to my home when the solicitor read Richard’s will.” She looked to the ceiling, unable to look Devan in the eye as she told another sordid tale of her late husband. “In essence, he provided for me as dictated by the marriage settlements, the full dower amount, but nothing more and nothing less. He directed that a special mausoleum be built for him and Mary away from the rest of the family.”
She closed her eyes as those memories, every single one of them, came rushing back.
“You don’t have to tell any more if it’s too painful.” He rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek, his warmth calming her racing heartbeat.
“No. You should know all of it before we arrive in London.” She cleared her throat, then studied her hands. “He bequeathed a huge fortune on Mary and her son, Richard Bolen. He even made provisions for him to attend Eton.” Her lips tugged into a half smile, though she wanted to crawl into a corner of the carriage and weep. “That’s why I don’t want Thane to go there. The other boys would be unspeakably cruel when they discover they’re half brothers, one a marquess and the other the son of a brothel owner. What if Thane returns a bully like his father? What if Mary’s son resents Thane?”
“Avalon,” he said, “you can’t always protect him. Eventually, they’ll meet. Mary’s son will become friends with peers who’ll come to know Thane when he sits in the House of Lords.”
“I know,” she said a little defensively. “I couldn’t bear it if Richard’s son hurt him. Lord knows, Richard was horrible.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “He never even held Thane the only time he saw him.”
“Darling, Thane’s brother is Mary’s son too. She wouldn’t allow him to be cruel. But whatever type of person he is, I won’t let you or Thane go through that alone. I promise.”
She nodded briefly as she quickly wiped away a tear. “When the solicitor left, Mary was still in the study with me. I was uncomfortable because she was grieving so. Her grief made my own failure as a wife that much more acute. I had to get out of the room. But when I looked at her so forlorn and alone, I went to sit by her. Somehow, I ended up holding her while she shed her tears.”
“That must have been difficult.” He spoke softly and drew nearer.
“After she finished weeping, she told me if there was anything I ever needed, not to hesitate calling on her.” Her gaze locked with his. “This is that time. She’ll help us. She has an army of men who protect her and her girls. She’ll help us find them.”
Another flash of lightning rent the sky, the brightness unexpected. Avalon closed her eyes.
Dear God, thank you for my husband, but if I have any favors left in Your grace, please let us find Sophia and Penelope … quickly.