“If you’ll forgive me, sir, but the elder Miss McFarland is not at home.”
Griffin didn’t believe it for an instant. Most likely, she’d left instructions with her butler to state that she wasn’t at home when he came to call. After all, he’d warned her in advance.
Thinking of her sitting up in her bedchamber with the belief that this would stop him, he almost laughed. “Then I should like to speak with her father.”
“Mr. McFarland is not at home.” The butler’s expression gave nothing away.
Griffin bit back an oath and took a deep breath. “Would you be able to tell me when he might return?”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge Mr. McFarland’s schedule, sir.”
This was obviously getting him nowhere. “Would the younger Miss McFarland be receiving callers, then?” If the butler uttered another excuse, so help him, Griffin was going to explode.
“If you’ll forgive me, sir—”
“Mr. Croft! What a coincidence,” Bree McFarland said as she descended the stairs behind the butler. “I was just heading out now to see your sisters. Am I mistaken, or did I hear you ask Hershwell if I was at home?”
“Apparently, neither your sister nor your father is at home,” he said, studying her closely for any sign of deception.
“Hershwell would lose his post if he revealed anything of father’s whereabouts. As for my sister, I’m surprised you’ve not heard. It was such a big fuss. Last night when we arrived home, Delaney told Father that she’d received a message from one of her friends requesting her assistance on an urgent matter. Though I do not know the particulars, I do know that she had to leave before dawn this morning.”
“On an urgent matter,” he parroted, keeping the disbelief from his voice. He suspected the urgency had everything to do with his promising to call on her this morning. That was fine with him. He could wait her out. “Then I’ll return later this afternoon.”
He bowed and turned to leave.
“Mr. Croft,” Bree McFarland said, stepping out to follow him. “I don’t believe she’ll have returned by then. You see, her maid informs me that she packed a bag to take with her, because she was removing herself from town.”
He hesitated, a feeling of dread funneling through him like water being pulled on a drain. “And you’ve no idea where she’s gone?”
“Delaney wouldn’t have told me.” She looked sideways as if embarrassed. “I haven’t exactly been known for my ability to keep a secret for long.”
Her admission brought out a new concern. If he was trying to win Delaney’s favor, then it wouldn’t suit his purpose to have rumors of his intentions all over town before he’d secured her. “Perhaps it would be best if we kept this exchange between us for the time being.”
And he would have to be careful how he sought information on her whereabouts in the future.
When Griffin spotted young Mr. Simms before he left Danbury Lane, he learned that the lad knew nothing of Delaney’s departure either, other than the fact that she’d left shortly before dawn. Not only that, but she’d taken one of her father’s carriages and drivers with her. Neither the driver nor the carriage had returned, which left Griffin with only one conclusion. Somehow, he’d lost her.
Of course, he wasn’t one to accept defeat. He would simply find her by any means necessary.
Frustrated, Griffin went to Gentleman Jackson’s saloon. He needed to find a decent sparring partner. As luck would have it, Everhart was there.
Today, however, his opponent was sorely lacking in skill. Griffin’s fist connected with flesh time and again. “You’re an easy target today, Everhart. Spend the night carousing?”
“Though you may not believe it, I kept very respectable company last evening,” he said through a yawn and then threw a punch that struck only air. “My cousin and his wife invited me to dine with them. Afterward, Rathburn gave me leave to stay in my usual guest quarters if I chose, and so I did.” This time, he blocked the blow to his gut. “Regardless, I was not expecting to awaken at dawn to the sound of some red-haired demon pounding on the door.”
Griffin’s arms felt suddenly stiff and leaden. “Red-haired demon?”
Everhart took advantage with a left and then a right to his ribs. “With my room overlooking the drive and receiving the full force of those violent raps, I stumbled out of bed and stuck my head out the window.” Dancing from foot to foot, he motioned with his fist for Griffin to raise his guard again. “Anyway, I learned later that the chit was one of my new cousin-in-law’s friends, requesting use of Rathburn’s hunting box in Scotland. Apparently, she had to flee posthaste, though my cousin and his bride could only speculate over the reason. If you can believe it,” he paused to laugh with incredulity, “Emma said that only a matter of the heart could be the cause. Besotted fool that my cousin is, Rathburn was inclined to agree.”
Griffin stilled. A matter of the heart. That was reason she’d left London. Could it be that Delaney McFarland was in love with him?
Everhart connected with Griffin’s jaw and knocked him flat.
Blinking the stars from his eyes, Griffin looked up. “Whereabouts in Scotland?”
“Near Dumfries. I’ve stayed there a time or two. Say, are you going to sit on the floor, or are we going to finish?” Everhart offered his assistance.
Dumfries? Surely, fate had a hand in this. Griffin stood and shook his opponent’s hand. “I owe you one, my friend.”
“For knocking you on your arse?”
“Precisely.”