Luke soon settled into a routine. His teams of stewards and land agents had managed well in his absence, but seemed grateful for him to ease the burden. There were some decisions that had been put off awaiting his return, however, and he threw himself into his duties with equal determination as he had as a soldier. If he worked himself into exhaustion every day, he found it was easier to grasp a few hours’ sleep.
Mr. Graham knocked and entered as per their morning ritual. The young secretary, dressed in a neat suit of plain dark cloth, bowed and sat in the chair across from Luke’s desk with his prepared reports and correspondence.
“Is there any new word today?” Daily, he asked for reports on Meg, but she seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.
Graham knew what he was asking. If he thought his employer was on a wild goose chase, he was kind enough not to say so.
“Our people trailing Thurgood have reported that his men appear to have stationed themselves in Oxfordshire. They had taken up residence at the Old Crown in Faringdon.”
“Has there been any sign of her there?”
“Not to my knowledge, your Grace. We have men searching, and men keeping an eye on Thurgood’s men.”
Luke nodded.
“Thurgood himself has returned to London. He must have realized that heralding her escape about would make him look ridiculous.”
“I think you give him too much credit, but let us pray he has come to his senses. Has there been any gossip?”
“Not that I have seen in the papers, your Grace. I am not privy to the tongues of the matrons,” he added in the manner of a suggestion, which Luke wanted to ignore.
“I have not seen anything in the news-sheets either, which is good. I suppose I could bestir myself to see if there is gossip.” How could she have disappeared into thin air? The thought bothered him, but as long as Thurgood did not have her they were still better off, were they not?
“I still have not received word from the jeweller.”
“It is doubtless nothing more than a trinket any young lady would have. Have you looked at the brothels?”
Graham’s cheeks coloured at this. His secretary was still a very green youth.
“Yes, your Grace. I have not enquired myself, but my sources tell me no one of that description has recently arrived at the well-known places.”
Luke ran one of his hands through his hair. There was little more he could do, and he knew it. Nonetheless, something inside was nagging at him and he could not simply forget about her. Perhaps he was a romantic at heart, and he was as mad as Don Quixote. He could hear Tobin’s scathing remarks to that notion.
“Shall I keep looking, your Grace?”
At some point in the discussion, Tobin had slipped into the room. He must be bored, wasting his talents as a valet. Luke would need to think of something more to occupy the man’s time.
“Still looking for the girl?” Tobin asked as he slid into the other armchair in front of the desk.
“With very little luck, I am afraid,” Graham replied.
“Hopefully it means she has found a safe place to hide.” Tobin picked up a paperweight and fingered the bronze-cast bull.
“I cannot be easy until I find her,” Luke replied.
“Have ye searched for a family with two sisters? I would swear she said she was lookin’ for her sister.” Tobin’s gaze was overly focused on the paperweight.
“You are just now thinking to mention this?” Luke asked, exasperated.
“How was I to know what ye heard and did not? Ye were much more interested in her than I.”
“One of these days, I shall throttle you, Tobin.” Luke shook his head. “We are shocking Mr. Graham.”
The batman shrugged. “He’ll survive.”
“I want to know everything you know about her, even if you think it is insignificant. I was rather preoccupied from the brandy you gave me, if you recall.”
“Ye do not remember being sewn up, do ye?”
Luke gave his best withering look but Tobin was unaffected.
“Georgy said—” he began.
“Georgy?” Luke interrupted.
“The driver from the posting house,” Tobin explained, as if he were daft. Perhaps he was.
“Carry on.” He waved his hand.
“Georgy said he was travellin’ to London so I convinced him to drive us as well. I assumed yer men had been back to speak with everyone there.”
Luke frowned, then looked at his secretary, who nodded. “That is correct, your Grace. It is how we discovered Thurgood’s men and followed them from there to Oxford.”
“Then it seems to me, if Thurgood’s men are there, perhaps the sister is there? Or the girl might be there?” Luke closed his eyes. “If she is there, why have they not found her?”
“Mayhap she is in London,” Tobin suggested.
Tobin was acting strangely—again. Did he know something more that he was not telling?
“Or perhaps she duped us like she did Thurgood?”
“Perhaps now you may search for a family with two sisters, Graham?” Tobin suggested.
“My instinct tells me she comes from gentry, if not nobility. There was a presence about her, besides her speech,” Luke added.
“Yes, your Grace.” Graham bowed and left. Luke was still not used to such formality, but it was clear the secretary would never be as comfortable with barrack-room manners as he and Tobin.
Luke fixed his attention back on his batman. “What are you not telling me?”
“I don’t know what ye mean,” he answered evasively.
“You are not yourself. What else do you know about the girl? If you know something, you must tell me. It could mean life or death for her.”
“I wish I could tell ye more, Major. D’ye want me to ask around?”
“Do you fancy yourself a Runner, now, Tobin? Or do you have some acquaintances here of which I was unaware?”
Tobin straightened himself. Was he taking offence? Luke almost laughed at his expression.
“I happen to have some acquaintances amongst other gentlemen’s men. I discovered they haunt Pontack’s Tavern.”
“Do they? That could be useful, I suppose.”
“Who d’ye know with estates near Oxford?” Tobin asked.
Luke laughed. “I cannot think of anyone other than Marlborough. What I would not give to be a fly on the wall while you try to gossip!”
“At least I am trying to help. Why don’t ye take yourself off to somewhere and do the same?”
“Insolent wretch.” Luke scowled, but knew Tobin was right. He could avoid Society no longer.
Meg kept to herself and tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was not too hard to do. It was such a large house, and she was not the only new servant hired with the master’s return. She had been desperately waiting for a time when said master would leave so she could do some more searching for her sister. Also, Tobin had been helpful, seeking her out on occasion to enquire how she did and let her know his doings. It had been three days since her arrival and the Major had not once left the house! She had peeled more carrots, kneaded more dough and cracked more eggs than she had ever imagined possible, and most of it was simply to feed the servants! Cook had taken her to market, which was a welcome reprieve from being closeted in the kitchen. Cook was being truly kind and very, very patient with her ignorance.
As she mindlessly kneaded some more dough, a spray of flour went into the air as Tobin entered the kitchen and he waved his arms to see through the cloud of dust. The room was mostly empty at this point, it being late afternoon. They had just sent tea upstairs and were soon to start on supper preparations.
“Tobin, stop harassing my girls and get your rascally self out of my kitchen!” Cook chastised the batman.
He gave her a devilish half smile and plucked a remaining jam tart from the table and popped it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned a noise of appreciation, making a great scene out of it. Nothing was surer to mollify Cook, by the look she gave him.
Her hands were on her hips, but her face beamed. “What do you want, then? Did I not send you enough for tea so you thought to come and pilfer mine and Meg’s?”
“Is it possible to have too many of yer jam tarts?”
She snapped his knuckles with a towel. “Stop bamming me, you rogue. It might work on the maids, but just say what you want and get on with it. I have dinner to prepare!”
Meg thought the tactic was working very well, and knew if Tobin applied himself to being this charming very often, he could be quite dangerous.
“I’ve come to escort Miss Meg to the library,” he said quietly. “His Grace has gone to call on Lady Crewe.”
Meg looked up hopefully at Cook, who nodded and made a shooing motion. Tobin had already crept away and was waiting on the other side of the door. It would not do for them to be seen leaving together, not that anyone was there to watch at the moment.
Standing in the shadows ahead of her, she followed discreetly through the narrow, servant’s corridors until he stopped and opened one of the doors. She followed him into the library, a beautiful two-storey, golden-hued room with books from floor to ceiling on two sides, a wall of windows on the third, and the fourth was the door through which the family would enter, the portal surrounded by landscapes.
She stopped. Her saviour was a duke? Tobin had very distinctly said ‘his Grace’ in the kitchen! Moving slowly forward again, she knew it was even more imperative that she find her sister and leave here as quickly as possible, for she did not want to soil her saviour’s good name. It also explained why he felt he had the right to interfere.
The way her life had changed in less than a week was still unreal to her. It would be easier to fall into despair, but that would not save Amelia. Tobin stopped at one of several tables and pointed to a large, leather-bound book.
“Here is the Debrett’s Peerage you were asking after. Ye should have seen the look on Mr. Graham’s face when I asked for it.” There was that devilish half-smile again.
“I appreciate your help more than you know, Tobin.”
She removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. They caused horrible headaches and she removed them whenever she could. He already knew she was a fraud. She sat down at the table where the book lay, feeling great pleasure in removing her weight from her feet.
“Have you remembered anything else? I overheard Mr. Graham telling the Major that Thurgood had men near Oxford, but he himself had remained in London.”
Meg looked up with surprise.
“It would help greatly if I could tell them who ye are,” he suggested.
“No! I do not want him involved.”
“It is too late for that, miss. It won’t be long before he discovers who ye are. He still doesn’t know ye are here, however. I wish ye would let me tell him. ’Twould save a lot of trouble.”
Meg did not like this one bit. She felt deeply conflicted, but she had not asked the Duke for help and he could make things worse for Amelia. She no longer cared for her own reputation.
“Can you not persuade him otherwise?”
Tobin let out a harsh laugh. “Ye do not understand the Major at all. He has a very strong sense of chivalry and feels it is his duty as a gentleman to help ye.” Then, as if it needed more explanation, he added, “He has a sister, himself.”
Meg dropped her head into her hands. “This is a disaster! I must find my sister quickly and end this charade!”
“’Twould be o’er much quicker if we knew who ye were. I will not tell him outright without yer permission, I gave ye my word. Nevertheless, he does know ye have a sister and he has gone out to see if there’s been any gossip.”
Things were far worse than she knew. She felt like she would retch. “I do not know what is best to do, Tobin.”
“He only wants to help.”
“If he has an overweening sense of chivalry as you say, when he finds out who I am and that I have been living in his house, what will he feel obligated to do then? No, I cannot do it.”
“Will you at least tell me who ye are?”
She hesitated, considering. So far, he had kept his word.
“I cannot see what good it will do, but I am Lady Margaret Blake and my sister is Lady Amelia. She is to wed the Earl of Erskine and I do not know whether it is yet too late to save her. I believe my uncle might wait for mourning to be observed, since Society will question if he does otherwise. It is the only circumstance he restrains himself for.”
Tobin stared at her silently for a few minutes, which was more disturbing than if he had been chastising her in Gaelic. She had overheard he was Irish. One day, she would very much like to know how he came to be the Duke’s man, but just now she had other, more pressing considerations. With that reminder, she began thumbing through the book about the Peerage.
“Could he not be a duke? There are only two dozen of those,” she muttered as she scanned the hundreds of pages listing the heritage of all the nobility in the kingdom.
It was not long before she found what she needed. “The Earl of Erskine’s country seat is in Faringdon, Oxfordshire.”
“You found the one you need?” Tobin asked from across the room, where he had been looking around a shelf of leather-bound books.
“Yes, but how do we discover if she is there? He could have other estates and quite likely a residence in London. Or she may still be with my uncle.”
“I suspect it will be easy enough to discover if he is in Town. Ye leave that to me.”
“You can easily find out?”
“I suspect ye could as well. Have ye not discovered how to gossip?” He looked astonished, with his eyes wide and his brows raised.
Meg had not had anyone to gossip with before, and Cook did not approve. She shook her head.
“It seems, Tobin, that I am at your mercy yet again.” She did not like feeling beholden. “I do not know if I will ever be able to repay you.”
“Don’t ye worry about tha’,” he said gruffly. “If ye are safe, then my master is happy.”
She felt her lips curve into a slight smile. He did not like being praised; that much was clear. She reached over and took his hand.
“Nevertheless, I am still very, very grateful.”