The Earl's Wallflower Bride (20 page)

He set the book down and hurried to her
bedchamber. His gaze went to the vanity where he’d left the
parchment. It was still there. So maybe she’d written him back and
expected him to come in here to find it. It wasn’t like she’d been
invited into his bedchamber. Leaving a reply here made perfect
sense.

But when he picked up the parchment, there
was no reply. With a sigh, he set it back on the vanity. So much
for that idea. He supposed she didn’t want him to know where she’d
gone after all. He wished he could go back and change the way he’d
treated her when they’d first met. Things would be so different now
if he’d taken the time to talk to her.

All he’d done was treat her with the same
disdain his stepmother had treated him from the moment she married
his father. Well, he couldn’t do anything about the past. All he
could do was change how he did things in the future. Naturally, it
was going to take time for her to trust him. Given how much he’d
hurt her, it was going to take more than one day to undo the damage
he’d done. He just needed to take his time and be patient. That was
all.

Feeling better, he picked
the note back up and returned to his bedchamber. On the other side
of it, he wrote,
I just wanted you to know
I’m glad you’re my wife. There are few people in this world I feel
are my intellectual equal, and you’re one of them.

He paused, wondering if it was appropriate to
mention things of a more personal nature. He tapped the edge of his
quill on the desk. Just how did a husband go about expressing
sentiment?

His gaze went to Edon’s book. After a moment
of internal debate, he picked it up and scanned the table of
contents until he found the chapter on words of affirmation. Good.
That one might have something he could use.

Once he was done reading the
chapter, he decided to pick the example that seemed to fit how he
felt about Iris the best.
Besides being
beautiful, you’re also a good companion. I look forward to spending
the rest of my life with you.

There. That summed everything up nicely. He
returned the note back to her vanity then went back to reading
Edon’s book.

***

“I don’t care if you think the horses need a
break,” Byron was telling the coachman from outside the carriage.
“We need to press on. My brother’s probably seen the missive by now
and is on his way. If he comes on horse, he’ll overtake us before
we reach the estate.”

Iris watched Byron through the small window
in the carriage, and she noted the stiffness in his posture. Money.
Why did everything always come down to money? Warren had feigned
interest in her because she came with a significant dowry and
because her father could give him financial advice which would
increase his wealth. And now Byron had kidnapped her for the sole
purpose of getting his hands on more money. Truly, the love of
money was the root of all evil.

“If we wear out the horses, they’ll be no
good to us,” the coachman told Byron. “You won’t stay at an inn,
and that’s already straining them.”

Byron fidgeted, obviously not liking this
answer but probably seeing the logic behind it. He scanned the
landscape, and Iris followed suit, wondering if there was anyone
nearby who might offer her assistance. Perhaps if she explained her
case, the person might help her get away from her captor.

But no one was in sight. The entire landscape
was devoid of people. She was all alone out here with Byron and the
coachman. She wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, and she didn’t
like it one bit. Wrapping her arms around herself, she settled back
into the seat. There was nothing she could do. Even if she ran off,
Byron would catch her.

Her only recourse was to bide her time and
hope Byron’s mother or sister might have mercy on her.

“Fine,” Byron finally told the coachman.
“We’ll let the horses rest, but I want to continue on in fifteen
minutes.”

The coachman nodded and went to feed the
horses.

Byron returned to the carriage and said, “If
you need to take care of anything personal, now’s the time to do
it.” Then he left.

Out the window, she saw him unbutton his
trousers. With a shudder, she looked away. She had no desire to
watch anyone relieve his bladder. But she figured she better do it,
too. Who knew when there’d be another chance? She hurried out of
the carriage and found a tree to hide behind while she did her
business.

Chapter Seventeen

I
t
was at dinnertime when Warren started to wonder if Iris was ever
going to come back home. He’d waited for her to return all day, but
the townhouse echoed with her absence. And now, as he sat at the
table with a meal he’d selected especially with her in mind since
her father had said she liked fish, he was all too aware she was
still gone.

What a contrast this had been to last
evening. During dinner, they had continued talking about the book,
discussing things they’d read in it. He’d thought the entire day
had gone very well. He searched his memory for anything he might
have said or done that had upset her yesterday, but his mind drew a
blank. There was nothing he could come up with to explain why she
wasn’t here for dinner.

He forced himself to eat the meal, his mind
unwittingly going to the dinner parties he had invited her to. Now
that he thought about it, he could remember her attempts to join in
the conversation. He’d been too caught up in what Robert and
Malcolm were saying to care. A grave error on his part. One that
might even haunt him for the rest of his life, given how much Iris
wanted to avoid him.

All through the meal, he kept hoping she’d
show up. He even had the butler keep her plate at her seat, just in
case. But she never showed up, and the awful feeling in his gut
only got worse.

After he was done eating, he summoned the
coachman to bring the carriage. He took the carriage to her
parents’ residence, thinking it was a starting point. Of all the
places she’d be, this was the most likely one.

But when his parents greeted him, he quickly
learned Iris wasn’t there.

“We haven’t seen her since after the wedding
breakfast,” her mother said. “When did you last see her?”

“This morning,” Warren replied. “I went to
pick up a book I thought she’d enjoy on investing.” No need to
mention Edon’s book. His cheeks still warmed when he recalled
reading it, even if half the content had absolutely nothing to do
with the actual act of lovemaking. He cleared his throat and added,
“It’s a new book, and I wanted to read it with her.”

“Is it the one by Walter Thomas?” her father
asked.

Warren nodded. “That’s the one.”

“She would enjoy it,” he replied. “It’s a
good book.”

“I was hoping we might start reading it
today,” Warren said.

“Well, we have no idea where she is,” her
mother told him. “She hasn’t been here, nor did she send a missive
telling us where she’d go.”

“I know she’s friends with Miss Carlisle,”
Warren said. “I think I’ll check there next. I was wondering if
she’s not at Miss Carlisle’s, is there any other place she might
have gone?”

“Miss Carlisle is the only friend she feels
comfortable with,” her mother replied. “I can’t think of anywhere
else she’d be since she’s not here.”

“It’s not like her to run off for such a long
period of time,” her father added, his eyebrows furrowed. “Even
when she was upset, she made it a point to come home in time for
dinner.”

“I can’t think of anything I said or did to
upset her after we got married,” Warren said. “I’ve been trying to
be a good husband.”

“Oh, we have no doubt you have,” her father
assured him.

Feeling better since they weren’t going to
blame him, he relaxed. “Well, I think I’ll go to Miss Carlisle’s
townhouse and see if Iris is there,” Warren said. “Thank you.”

“Let us know if you need our help finding
her,” her father told him.

After assuring him he would, Warren went to
Miss Carlisle’s. But that turned out to be as much of a dead end as
going to her parents’ townhouse had been. He was baffled. Truly and
utterly baffled. If he hadn’t talked to the butler who saw her
leave, he would swear she’d disappeared after he left her in bed
that morning.

Upon his return to the townhouse, he summoned
the butler to ask him, “What time did you say Lady Steinbeck left
this morning?”

“I believe it was shortly after nine,” his
butler replied.

“And she didn’t say where she was going?”

“No.”

“What was her mood when she left?”

“She seemed to be in a hurry, my lord.”

Warren’s eyebrows furrowed. In a hurry? That
could mean almost anything. She could’ve been excited or agitated.
“Was she smiling, or was she frowning?”

The butler took a moment to think it over
before he said, “She seemed distracted, as if something was
weighing on her mind. I had to rush up to the front door in order
to open it for her before she left. I told her you went to White’s
but would be back within the hour. Then I asked if she wanted me to
leave you a message, and she said no. Then she rushed out of
here.”

That didn’t give him much to go on. “Is there
anything else? Anything you can tell me at all?”

“No. That’s all I know. After she started
down the steps, I shut the door and returned to my duties.”

“Are you talking about Lady Steinbeck?” a
lady asked from behind them.

Warren and the butler turned to her. The maid
stood a few feet away, holding clean towels in her arms.

“Yes,” Warren said. “Have you seen her?”

“Not since this morning when I was picking up
more cleaning supplies,” she replied. “She was in your family’s
carriage.”

This didn’t sound promising. In fact, it only
added to the growing sense of dread that’d been building up within
him during the day. “When and where did you see her in the
carriage?”

“I saw her a couple streets down that way.”
She pointed toward the west. “She was looking out the window. I
waved, but she didn’t notice me. I thought since she was with your
family, everything was all right. I would have said something if I
thought there was something wrong.”

It was then Warren remembered the missive
Byron had sent. He turned back to the butler. “When did you get the
correspondence from my half-brother?”

“It was about ten minutes after Lady
Steinbeck left,” he replied.

“Was he the one who delivered it?” he
asked.

“No. It was a lad. Probably from the middle
class. I didn’t recognize him.”

“Bring the carriage to the front,” Warren
told him.

Without waiting for them to respond, he
hurried up the steps. He had to see the contents of that missive.
As soon as he reached the trashcan in his bedchamber, he dug the
neatly folded parchment out of it. He opened the drapes to allow
the remaining daylight into the room. Then he unfolded it, forcing
himself not to rip the paper in his haste to read the message.

Blood drained from his face as he read the
contents. It was a ransom note. Byron made it clear, in no
uncertain terms, that he was going to keep Iris at the estate until
Warren paid him a hundred pounds.

Warren’s fist clenched the missive, which
crumpled into a tight ball. Curse him! Of all the sneaky,
underhanded, manipulative things he’d done, this had to be the
worst.

Warren spun on his heel, ready to head right
out the door and get into the carriage when he remembered the trip
would take two days. They’d both need clothes.

He quickly threw some things into a valise
then headed for the carriage. Whether Byron expected the money or
not was of little consequence. Warren wouldn’t pay it. If he gave
into Byron’s demands this time, who knew what his half-brother
would do in the future?

Gentlemen who stooped to abducting wives were
capable of just about anything. Once they knew they could get away
with one transgression, they moved on to another. The thirst for
more was never satisfied. Warren had seen this often enough at
White’s to understand this basic principle.

So no. Byron wasn’t going to get any money.
But he was going to give Iris back to him, and he was going to do
it under his terms. He was going to put a stop to this once and for
all. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to do it yet. But he’d
think of something, and Iris would never go through anything like
this again.

***

Two days later, the carriage came to an
abrupt stop. Iris jerked awake, surprised she’d fallen asleep with
all the swaying and bumping the carriage had done. As she turned
her head to the window, her neck ached in protest. But, noting the
beautiful manor in front of her, she forced herself to straighten
up in the seat so she could get a better look at it.