The Desperate Love of a Lord: A Free Novella. Jane Lark

pulled the top one open, then the one below it and the one below that. They were all empty.

      Why had she gone? Why had she said nothing? Not even goodbye. She’d not even sent a note to say it was over.

      He sat on the bed, letting the scents in the room overwhelm him. Where the hell had she gone? And why had she gone without him?

      A cough rang from the chamber door, and Geoffrey realised his head was in his hands; with his elbows on his knees he’d covered his face. He felt like weeping. He did not weep; he stood and looked at Selford.

      “Where has she gone?”

      “I do not know, sir. I was only told she has gone to the country.”

      “Where in the country?”

      “Honestly, I do not know, my Lord.”

      “Does she own any property outside of London?”

      “No, sir.”

      “Has she gone to a friend’s?”

      The butler stepped forward and lifted a hand as if, if it were appropriate, he might touch Geoffrey’s arm, of course he did not.

      “I’m sorry, sir. I can give you no more details. Lady Rimes quite specifically did not tell me where she has gone. It was very clear her ladyship did not wish her absence nor her whereabouts, disclosed.”

      “What?” What on earth was going on? “Selford?”

      “Honestly, sir, I have no idea where her ladyship is, and you cannot stay here …”

      No, no! Of course he could not. But where was he to go then? He didn’t know any more.

      If Barrington was in town, Geoff could go there to talk things out with Robert, but he was not. No one else would understand. Except perhaps Geoff’s elder sister. But he could not call there and wake her husband and her household at this hour.

      He left in a daze. His walk home felt like a dream. When he reached his bachelor apartments in St James, he wasn’t even sure how he’d got there. He lay on his bed, without undressing, a hand on his brow as his alcohol addled brain tried to think everything through.

      When he woke it was ten in the morning, and his brain felt no less confused than the night before. The very first thought in his head, was, why? The second, where?

      Desperation turned his stomach as he dressed. How had he got so caught up with Violet? He’d never expected to get tangled up with a woman, not like this. Yet Violet’s web had wrapped about him this summer and caught him fast.

      Why had she cast him out of it so suddenly? I don’t understand.

      When he left his apartment he did not know where he was heading, but then his feet took him in the direction of her solicitor’s office. Surely Mr Larkin would know where Violet had gone.

      Geoff’s attitude had changed since his assault on her house last night. Last night he had been angry. Today, when he entered the solicitors, he was downtrodden and desolate. He had no expectation. He felt lost. She’d ripped his damned heart out. She’d gone.

      It was laughable really. All summer Violet had been busy threatening Lord Barrington with a hard countenance, because she believed Barrington would break her friend’s heart. Now she had done it to him.

      “Mr Larkin,” Geoffrey acknowledged as he was invited in to the office.

      The man stood and smiled.

      Geoffrey had not mentioned why he’d come yet. He could not find the words.

      “Do sit, my Lord. How may I help?”

      Mr Larkin wouldn’t even know there was a connection between himself and Violet. After all they’d only shared an intrigue. He had no rights regarding her - no right to interfere in her affairs – except that he loved her, and he’d thought she’d tumbled into loving him too. It had not been by design. It had just happened. One night of pleasure had become two, then three and four, and then, and then … he’d hated being separated from her.

      Damn her. There was a hole in his chest without her here, and it was painful.

      Geoff took a seat facing the solicitor feeling like a gullible idiot. He had been used and discarded - while he’d thought himself happy beyond any expectation.

      God, was this what his friend Robert had gone through when he’d dropped out of Oxford all those years ago. Insanity threatened at the edge of Geoff’s conscious thought, he was too anxious, he’d be admitted to Bedlam in a month if he did not get a hold of this internal ranting.

      “My Lord,” Larkin prodded.

      Geoff sighed. “Look Mr Larkin, I know you manage Lady Rimes affairs for her. She’s left town unexpectedly. I wondered if you knew –”

      The solicitor sat back in his chair, frowning, as Geoff spoke, then cut in. “I cannot reveal another client’s details –”

      “I know that but –”

      “There is no but, my Lord.”

      Geoffrey slid forward, to the edge of his chair, with an urge to force the man to listen. “I am worried for her, Larkin. She’s disappeared without a word. When … when I would not have expected it. Something is a foot, something seems wrong. Just tell me where she has gone so I might see her and know all is well?”

      Mr Larkin leaned forwards again too, his hand resting on his desk. “If Lady Rimes had wished you to know, Lord Sparks, she would have told you. She has not, sir, and so I must respect her choice.”

      The blood drained from Geoff’s head, blurring his vision, while his stomach growled. Stopping to break his fast had not been among his priorities, but the after effects of the alcohol he’d imbibed last night turned his stomach and fogged his head.

      He refused to faint like a feeble woman. Resting his forehead on the heel of his palm, his elbow pressing into his thigh, he took a breath. Where the hell had she gone? Why?

      The room was weighted with silence. He knew Larkin watched him.

      What to do?

      “I’m sorry, my Lord, but if that is the only reason you have come …” You might as well go. Geoff heard the unspoken words.

      He looked up. “Do you know how long she’s gone for? When will she be back?” Larkin merely shook his head.

      In the years Geoff had known Violet, she’d rarely left London. The only times she had gone, were to follow entertainment; like last year, she’d gone to Bath. Perhaps she had gone to a house party. But this didn’t seem like that. If it was simply a house party somewhere, why hadn’t she said?

      The last time he’d seen her, when he’d left her at her bedchamber door, and her fingers had run across the stubble growing on his cheek, she’d said, “Goodbye Geoffrey.”

      She had not said, I will see you this evening, or, later. It had just been goodbye. They’d made no plans.

      It had meant goodbye.

      But why? There was no point in looking to Larkin for an answer. It was like attempting to draw blood from a stone.

      Despondency weighting down his limbs, Geoff stood. “Thank you.” He had nothing to thank the man for but the words just slipped from his lips.

      When he left, his feet led him back to Violet’s house. He did not expect to find her there. Yet he had to be there, because, where-else would he go.

      The knocker was still in place. That didn’t make sense either. Why pretend she was within when she was not?

      He lifted it and rapped it down on the iron plaque beneath it thrice. Then stood back a little.

      Selford answered it, his eyebrows rising as he opened the door. “Lord Sparks?” There was a note of pity as well as a question in his