people will talk, however discreet you are.’
‘Your sister has been both considerate and kind,’ Justin said, turning to look at his long-time friend and close neighbour. ‘I know that she is Lucinda’s good friend and I have been able to voice some of my concerns to her. However, she has no idea of what might have caused Lucinda to run away.’
‘Are you certain she has run away?’ Andrew asked gently. ‘Couldn’t there be another reason for her disappearance?’
Justin ran his fingers through his thick hair. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, proof of his sleepless nights, and a new harshness about his mouth. He seemed not to hear his friend. ‘What made her do it? I have racked my brains to try to think if I did or said something that distressed or frightened her. If she did not wish to be my wife, she could have sent me a note before the wedding to break it off. Why marry me and then leave without a word? Surely I am not such a monster that she feared me?’
‘I have no answers for you,’ Andrew said. ‘Had I been at home I should have advised employing an agent immediately, as it all sounds very suspicious to me. You are certain there was no letter? She left no word for you?’
‘Her maid had not seen her and there was nothing that either of us could find anywhere.’
‘Why not search her room again? Something may have been missed. I remember meeting Lucinda once when she and Jane were at the Raddlit Academy for young ladies. She did not strike me as the type of girl to behave badly. Jane liked her a great deal and my sister is usually a fine judge of character.’
‘Lucinda is the sweetest creature I have ever met,’ Justin said and the look he gave Andrew was one of despair. ‘I cannot believe she would hurt me like this—yet perhaps you are right, maybe there is more to this story than meets the eye.’
‘If you will permit me, I shall find an agent for you. I think we should give him Lucinda’s maiden name. She will hardly be using yours, Avonlea.’
‘Lucinda Seymour,’ Justin said. ‘She was such a quiet girl, but her smile attracted me from the beginning. When her aunt brought her to Harrogate I knew she was the one I wanted as my wife from the first moment I saw her—but she resisted me. She was polite but reserved, keeping me at a distance. It was not until she came to stay with Jane and we met again at your home that she let down her guard enough for me to have hope.’ His eyes reflected his anguish. ‘She told me she was very fond of me just before we parted. Why did she say that and then leave me? What could she hope to gain?’
‘My guess is that there is some mystery here,’ Andrew said. ‘I cannot solve it, but I am certain that when Lucinda is ready she will return and explain everything.’
‘If she cared for me even a little, she could have told me what distressed her so very much.’
‘Forgive me, Avonlea—are you in love with her?’
‘Naturally, I care for her…but I am not certain I know what love is in the sense you mean—there was precious little of it in our house when I was a lad.’
‘Then it was not a love match.’ Andrew looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps she felt that you might wish her gone if you knew the truth about her.’
Avonlea stiffened. ‘What do you mean, pray?’
‘How well did you know her? Was there some secret in her past, perhaps?’
‘Nothing that she could not tell me. I would have listened and helped her if I could.’ Justin frowned. ‘Do you know of something?’
Andrew hesitated, then, ‘I remember she left school quite suddenly and Jane did not hear from her for some years. She was very distressed about it at the time.’
‘You do not know why she left?’
‘I have no idea. Of course, it may have no bearing on this matter.’
‘I do not see how it could.’
‘Then perhaps she will return when she is ready.’
‘I pray that you are right. I fear for her. I think she has very little money with her. I gave her some guineas for use while we travelled, but it was hardly enough to live on for the past two months, though she may have some jewels and a little money of her own, I suppose.’
Justin’s mind was torn between distress, anger and bewilderment. He had searched every day for the past few weeks, but there was no sign of his duchess. In his heart he had begun to think that she might be dead—why else had she not told him where she was or why she had gone? Had someone abducted her—or, worse, murdered her to be revenged on him? He could not think of anyone who hated him that much—but why else would she have been taken?
‘So, you would take her back—no matter the reasons for her disappearance?’
‘She is my wife,’ Justin said and looked at his friend, as if surprised at the question. He was a gentleman and a man of honour—what else could he do but take his wife back if she came to him in trouble? ‘I’ve been in hell these past weeks. Besides, it is my duty to care for her. If she is in distress, I shall help her, no matter what. I should thank God for her safe return and pray that I could make her happy.’
‘Then I shall go to London in the morning and employ an agent for you,’ Andrew said. He reached out to lay a hand on Justin’s shoulder. ‘Do not give up hope yet, my friend.’
Lucinda looked around the small kitchen and sighed. She had scrubbed the floor that morning before it was light; it was much cleaner than it had been when she first arrived, but nothing would make this hovel the kind of home in which she could bear to live. However, it was all she could afford, because she had spent the guineas her husband had given her as pin money.
If she had not run away, she might have been at Avonlea now. Lucinda felt her throat catch and a tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently. Her husband must be so angry with her. When she’d discovered the blackmail letter lying on her dressing chest on her return from the church, she had fled in panic, taking only a few things rolled into a paisley shawl. How could anyone know her secret? It was more than five years since that terrible time when the shame had come upon her.
Her first thought had been for her husband’s good name. Avonlea was such a well-respected man and the realisation that she had brought a stain of dishonour to that proud family had almost overpowered her. She knew that he had married her because he’d believed her a girl of blameless past, modest, her reputation beyond reproach.
How she had deceived him! What a wicked thing she had done by marrying him without confessing the truth. She ought to have been resolute in refusing his obliging offer; at first, she had managed to keep a distance between them, but, as she became more attracted to him, she had found it too hard to resist the prompting of her heart. In the end she had fallen so desperately in love that she could no longer refuse Avonlea—yet she sensed he did not love her as she loved him. He spoke easily of love, but she thought it merely liking: the kind of feeling that might grow to warm affection with the years and the coming of children—but the spiteful letter would destroy his respect for her. He would hate her, wish to be free of the burden she must become to him when he learned the terrible truth.
Lucinda closed her eyes and sat down in the rocking chair by the kitchen fire, trying to control her thoughts. She had tried to block out the memory of that evil night when as a young girl she had been raped in
