The Duke's Accidental Wife (Dukes of War Book 7) (23 page)

He was back in his landau within the next quarter hour.

It wasn’t too late to attend Katherine’s opening night. With luck, he might even arrive before the first intermission.

He squinted through the darkness. The streets were rivers due to the rain, but they were still passable. Particularly since few other drivers were out risking the storm.

Jaw set, Ravenwood pointed his landau toward the theatre.

And slowed the horses the moment he recognized yet another of his carriages standing near the main entrance. Why was his old chaise here? Had Katherine not come in the coach?

He grabbed his umbrella and leapt onto the wet road just in time to see his wife dash outside without so much as a pelisse to protect her from the pouring rain.

Cursing under his breath, he ran to her, his boots sloshing in the mud.

He swung the umbrella over her head and wrapped a dry arm about her shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“I have to go. We have to go,” she said, her expression wild with panic. “Hurry!”

“Go where?” He stared at her. “Is your event over early?”

She turned glassy eyes to him. “I don’t care about the gala. I have to find Aunt Havens.”

The theatre door burst open behind them. To Ravenwood’s shock, his butler raced outside.

“
Simmons?
” Ravenwood’s ordered, logical brain could not think of a single sound reason for his butler to be at the theatre instead of home at his post. “What are you doing here?”

“We lost Mrs. Havens, your grace.” Simmons’ expression was grave. “I came to inform her grace. A few footmen are here with me, and the rest are out looking for Mrs. Havens.”

The words were incomprehensible. Ravenwood swung his gaze to Katherine. “But isn’t your aunt here with you?”

She stared up at him miserably. “I couldn’t bring her. She was having an…an episode. I didn’t want to risk something happening to her. I didn’t want to risk…” She gave a short, half-hysterical laugh and shoved both he and his butler out of the way. “I have to get in the carriage. I have to find her. She needs me.”

He wrapped an arm about her waist and pointed her toward his landau instead. “Come with me. We’ll go together. Simmons, you follow.”

The butler hesitated. “Where are we going?”

Ravenwood had absolutely no idea. “Where did you see her last?”

“At the house. The puppy got loose and—”

“You’ve searched for her near the estate for how long now?”

“A full hour.”

“Then she’s somewhere else.” No wonder Katherine was frantic. Ravenwood tried to regulate his racing heartbeat. “She couldn’t have gone far in the rain. It’s hard enough for me to slosh through the current in these boots, let alone an older woman with a constitution like Mrs. Havens.”

Katherine let out a hiccupy sob and bit down on her fist.

Ravenwood cursed his tongue. He hadn’t meant to upset her further. He wanted to find her aunt, and the best tool at his disposal was his ability to reason. “Are any of the other carriages missing?”

Simmons shook his head. “I’m afraid not, your grace.”

Ravenwood’s chest tightened. “Even if there were any hack drivers on the road in this rain, she wouldn’t have been able to hire one without coin to pay with.”

“She always has money,” Katherine said softly, her eyes wide with panic. “Aunt Havens says a lady should never be without pin money because a smart woman cannot always rely on someone else’s pocketbook.”

“She has money,” Ravenwood repeated. Splendid. She could be anywhere. “Where might she go?”

“
Here
.” Katherine’s expression was bewildered and scared. “Straight here. She wanted to come to the gala. This is the only place she would go.”

Ravenwood shot a sharp glance toward Simmons. “She’s not inside? You checked?”

Simmons shook his head. “The ushers saw no one matching her description. Nor did anyone ask for her grace until I arrived.”

Ravenwood’s muscles stiffened. Losing Mrs. Havens felt like losing his own family. His knees weakened. She
was
his family. The same as Katherine. Guilt twisted his stomach. He should have been there, at Mrs. Havens’ side.

Somehow they had to find her.

“She’s not at home. And she’s not here.” Which left where, in this weather? She was unlikely to have stepped out for an ice, or a promenade in the park. His fingers began to shake. They would never find her if they couldn’t figure out where to start looking.

“She wanted to come,” Katherine whispered, eyes haunted. “She wanted to come and I wouldn’t let her.”

He grabbed her hands. “Think, darling. Where else might she go?”

“The maid was watching her. I even sent two footmen to keep her safe. I made her promise to stay home.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “She probably didn’t remember.”

Ravenwood’s mind clicked into place. “What if she went to another home?”

Katherine frowned up at him. “What?”

“Your townhouse. That was your home before you moved in with me. Might she have gone there?”

“I…” Katherine’s eyes were wild. “It’s closed up. I haven’t been there in a month.”

“Does she know that?” he insisted. “Does she remember?”

“There’s no one there,” Katherine stammered. “She doesn’t have a key.”

Blast. It had been the best he could come up with. “Is there no way to get inside? To seek shelter?”

Katherine shook her head. “Nothing short of climbing up the balcony to—” Her face paled. “Hurry!”

Ravenwood nodded at Simmons and swung Katherine up into the landau. He grabbed the reins and prayed harder than he ever had in his life that logic had failed him and he was wrong.

If Mrs. Havens had tried anything as foolish as climbing a balcony in her fragile condition…

They had to make haste.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kate’s old townhouse loomed beneath the storm-blackened sky, lit only by the occasional streak of white lightning. It looked empty. Barren.

Foreboding clogged her throat.

What if Aunt Havens was here, in the dark, in the rain? What if she were somewhere else entirely and they never found her?

Slowly, they drove around the townhouse. The front was closed up. The stoop bare. No signs of life, or even of a recent disturbance. Although if anyone had come by, their footprints would have long since washed away in the barrage of rain.

She gripped the edge of the squab and squinted through the sheets of rain as they rounded the corner toward the rear of the townhouse.

The high balcony was empty and dry. Its doors locked and undisturbed.

But there below, in the dark swamp of the grass, sat a thin, shaking form.

Aunt Havens
.

Choking, Kate fumbled with the door and threw herself from the landau before it could even come to a stop.

She landed hard on her knees, hit the rocks instead of the grass, but sprang up without feeling her torn skin and raced through the ankle-high mud.

“Aunt Havens!” she screamed. “Aunt Havens, I’m here! I came for you!”

The bent figure just kept trembling.

Kate slid in the mud, scrambled, kept going. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms about her aunt’s cold, wet limbs.

Aunt Havens sneezed and kept shivering.

“You’re going to be fine,” Kate said softly, hugging her tight. “We’ll get you home and get you warm. We’re here now.”

Footsteps splashed behind her as Ravenwood raced to her side. He pulled Aunt Havens up and into his arms.

Something white fluttered from her pelisse to the ground. Something small and familiar.

Kate scrambled to rescue the fallen scraps from the mud.

Her best evening gloves. The ones Aunt Havens had taken without asking. Each hand now boasted an intricately embroidered dahlia, exactly like the one Ravenwood had gifted Kate in his private garden.

The day she had told Aunt Havens she thought she might be falling in love.

Kate held it to her chest and tried not to sob.
The keepsake
. She’d fought with her aunt, yelled at her, accused her of not knowing her own mind… and all she’d been trying to do was give Kate something to remember her by.

She would wear them for the rest of her life.

Ravenwood nestled Aunt Havens in the landau. He covered her with the blanket and shucked off his greatcoat to give her added warmth.

Kate wrapped her arms about him and kissed him.

“You’re freezing.” She frowned. He was soaked to the bone. “You need to get dry, or you’ll get sick, too.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. The important one is your aunt.”

“You’re both important. I won’t risk anything happening to either of you.”

She started to take off her pelisse.

He wouldn’t let her.

“Stay warm,” he ordered. Then sneezed. His hands shook as he held the reins. “We’ll be home soon.”

She hoped so. They
had
to. What if Ravenwood and Aunt Havens had both caught pneumonia?

Her throat tightened and she tried not to panic. “I’m never leaving either of you ever again.”

As soon as they pulled up at Ravenwood House, she sent half the footmen to fetch surgeons and instructed the other half to help her turn Ravenwood and Aunt Havens’ bedchambers into clean, warm sickrooms.

Because of her aunt’s age, the surgeons didn’t want anyone else present in Aunt Havens’ sickroom. They suggested Kate go to her own bedchamber and try to rest.

She went straight to Ravenwood’s.

“I’m fine,” he said, despite wracking shivers. “Get some sleep.”

“I’m a duchess,” she reminded him as she warmed his hands in hers. “I do what I want.”

He smiled. “Not ‘a’ duchess.
My
duchess.”

“Yours forever.” She crawled into bed beside him and wrapped him in her arms.

She loved him too much to ever let go.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ravenwood’s head pounded. Morning. It must be morning. He felt like he’d been unconscious for days.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Katherine’s blue eyes stared back at him.

“Good morning,” he said in surprise.

She laced her fingers with his. “Good afternoon, darling. You slept for twelve hours.”

He sat up in surprise. “How is your aunt?”

“Much better.” She smiled. “Stable.”

He stretched, testing his arms and legs, then rubbed the back of his head. Other than his pounding temples and an impending sneeze, he felt fine. “Why are you in here with me?”

“Where else would I be?” Her smile wobbled and she gripped his hand tighter. “I thought I’d lost you.”

His heart skipped. “You won’t lose me. You didn’t.”

“I
can’t
lose you.” She crawled into his arms and buried her face in his chest.

He stroked her hair and held her close.

After a long moment, she brought his hand to her lips, then sat up straight. “Your fingers are cold.”

He raised his brows. The summer had been exceptionally cool. “Aren’t yours?”