“All right, all right,” he growled. “Perhaps there is more to it than I thought. So, I’ll let Aufors do it . . .” He stopped, biting his lip. “Damn!”
“So Aufors has resigned,” said the Duchess, accurately reading his expression. She was silent and thoughtful a long moment, then she came to herself and said, “It doesn’t surprise me. He would have gone long ago except for Genevieve.”
He went on fuming wordlessly, while she sat a time, peering intently into his brooding, granite face. At last, she said:
“Well, you seem set in edgy stone, and I have no time to spend smoothing you into something gentler. I came to bid you farewell, for I have received word that my daughter has also disappeared. I’m leaving today for Ruckward, by way of Reusel-on-mere. My granddaughter needs Grandma to comfort her.”
“What should I do about Aufors?” he asked, not even having heard her. “What should I do about Genevieve?”
She sighed, shaking her head at him. “Send him after her. Believe me, he’ll find her eventually. Tell him you have no objection to their marrying.”
“That would be ridiculous! He’s a commoner!”
“He’s uncommon, Marshal, and you know it! More uncommon than nine-tenths the nobility!”
“But . . . Delganor . . .”
“When and if Delganor says anything, you apologize and say you’re dreadfully sorry, but the young ones were so in love it seemed appropriate, sensible,prudent, for them to wed.”
“He’ll be furious.”
“I don’t know. He may be. On the other hand … he may not. Now, I must go. My carriage is waiting.” She rose, pulled on her gloves, and sailed out.
The Marshal growled and glowered as he heard her speaking to Halpern in the hall, and by the time he figured out what he intended to do, Aufors Leys was halfway down the alleyway behind the stables. Though a footman was sent after him, the man returned much out of breath, saying he could not catch the Colonel and no one knew where he had gone.
Finally, and only then, did the Marshal realize what the Duchess had said. Her daughter, too, had disappeared.
“Another one,” he muttered gloomily.
“Your Highness.”
A footman was at the Prince’s door. “Your Highness, Colonel Aufors Leys requests an audience.”
“That was quick,” murmured the Prince. “Did Wiezal bring him?”
“No, sir. He came, just now, of his own accord.”
The Prince sat up and blinked twice, slowly, like a lizard, looking over the footman’s shoulder into some vast distance. A tiny smile moved across his lips, evanescent as cloud shadow.
“Well, well. Do let him come in.”
Aufors entered in military fashion, his cape flowing from his shoulder, his tall bonnet in the crook of his arm, clean-shaven as an egg, his back straight as he bowed. “Your Highness.”
The Prince purred, “Colonel Leys. Is there something I can do for you, Colonel?”
Aufors licked dry lips and said, “Your Highness is generous to grant me a hearing. We met, as you may recall, at the home of the Lord Marshal. You may recall his daughter.”
“Ah, yes,” said the Prince vaguely. “Lovely girl.”
“Quite so, Your Highness. I know that it is preferred that young women here at court not be attached, as they are all given duties to perform, but she and I are in love. It was nothing either of us intended, it just happened.”
“Ah,” said the Prince, with a slight frown. “I see. Well. That is most interesting, but I fail to see what … it has to do with me. . . .” He allowed his voice to trail away.
“Something that happened at dinner apparently frightened her terribly,” said Aufors, keeping his eyes down and thereby missing the slight amusement that again crossed the Prince’s face. “She has run away, she may be in danger, away from the protection of her family.”
“Frightened her?” mused the Prince, frowning slightly. “What could have happened at a dinner party? I knew most everyone there, scarcely a villainous crowd.” He peered down his nose, as though expecting a comment on this judgment.
Aufors made none. “I can’t say what frightened her, sir. But I feel that I must find her, wherever she has gone. It is apparent to me that she feels unprotected and insecure.”