Page 88 of The Unfortunate Debutante
Well, she had better start moving. She wasn’t going to wait around and be a damsel in distress. She was going to rescue herself.
With a drink in his hand,Simeon sat in Lansdowne’s drawing room. It had been several hours, and still no word on Emma’s location. And it was not for a lack of trying. Every available Bow Street Runner and agent of the Crown were scouring the streets and poring through documents in an attempt to find any lead. But no lead was forthcoming.
Now he sat alone. The Beckett family had adjourned to the dining room to eat a midday meal, but he was not hungry. How could he eat at a time like this?
He brought his drink to his lips. They had to find Emma. But what if they didn’t? The feeling of overwhelming panic came into his heart as he realized he was reliving his nightmare all over again. Emma had disappeared, just as Martha had. It had taken him five years to find her. No, that would not happen again. He would go to hell and back to find Emma. But where to look?
Benedict’s voice broke through his musings. “I know that look. You are about to go half-cocked on us, aren’t you?”
Setting his drink down, Simeon rose and turned to see Benedict leaning against the doorframe. “I’m going mad just sitting here waiting for a lead. I’m going to start searching for Emma myself.”
“Pray tell, where are you going to start looking?”
“Everywhere,” he announced, his voice rising.
An amused look came to Benedict’s face. “At least you have a solid plan.”
Simeon’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t lose her… not the way I lost Martha.”
“You won’t. We’ll find Emma,” Benedict said, walking further into the room.
“But what if we don’t?” he asked in despair.
Sitting down onto an armchair, Benedict looked up at him. “What happened to Martha is nothing like what happened to Emma,” he said calmly.
“Isn’t it?”
“It is not,” Benedict replied with compassion in his tone. “Martha was sold into slavery, whereas Emma was abducted by a spurned suitor. I highly doubt Peter whisked Emma away on a boat in the middle of the night to India.”
Feeling dejected, Simeon sat back down on his chair. “I failed Emma, just as I failed Martha. I am lousy at keeping people safe.”
“That’s not accurate,” Benedict assured him. “We’re all to blame for Emma’s abduction. Had we known what great lengths Lockhart was prepared to go to retrieve her, then we would have hidden her away much sooner.”
“May I ask where this safehouse is?”
Benedict’s expression grew stern. “It’s a well-guarded secret.”
“Understood.” Simeon ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly.
Benedict’s lips twitched. “Bow Street Runners aren’t supposed to be afraid of anything.”
“Neither are agents of the Crown,” he contended.
“Good point.” Benedict leaned forward in his seat, his expression growing serious. “This time, you’re not alone. You have friends that have a particular set of skills that can help retrieve Emma.”
“What if we’re too late?”
“We won’t be,” Benedict assured him. “Lockhart wants Emma alive.”
“But what kind of damage could he inflict on her before we rescue her?”
Benedict considered him for a long moment. “Emma is clever and strong-willed. She won’t stop fighting Lockhart.”
“And if Lockhart tires of her insolence?”
Benedict frowned. “You seem to focus on the negative. Why is that?”
“How can I not? My betrothed was stolen from me, sent to a brothel, and I spent five years searching tirelessly for her, only to have her choose another,” Simeon said. “Life has not been exceptionally kind to me.”
