“There’s a child—my ward, my late cousin’s son—and he’s disappeared.”

“A child? How old is he?”

“Seven. He was orphaned last year and his father left him and the estate in my hands. I’m to be trustee until the boy turns twenty-one.”

“When did he go missing? Do they have any idea of what might have happened?”

He glanced at the letter. “He was first missed three days ago. They suspect kidnapping, but no ransom note has been received.”

“Three days? And they’ve only just notified you?”

He rolled his eyes. “It will no doubt turn out to be a storm in a teacup, but I’ll have to go there—the boy is my responsibility.”

A storm in a teacup? “Aren’t you worried about him?”

“The boy is probably playing a trick on the servants and is hiding somewhere.”

“For three days? What if he’s unhappy and has run away?”

He gave her a blank look. “Why would he run away? He has everything he needs. More to the point, where would he go? Lakeside Cottage is a few miles the other side of Quainton in Bucks. There is nowhere to run to.” He shook his head. “My guess is he’ll be hiding. I did much the same when I was a boy.”

“For three days?”

He nodded. “Yes. You can please yourself what you do while I’m gone—stay here in Everingham House—you might want to talk to Rose and Lily about redecorating it. Or you could return to your uncle’s house, or visit one of your aunts. Whatever you like.”

“Wait in London?” Be set aside like a parcel until he was ready to collect her again? She could imagine the gossip that would arise from that—the duke, abandoning his bride the morning after the wedding. As for redecorating the house . . . “I’m going with you.”

He frowned. “Are you sure? It’ll probably be quite dull.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’ll have to leave straightaway. I’d planned to ride. It’s a solid day’s ride from here.”

“Oh, dear, and I’m so awkward on horseback,” she said dryly.

He gave a huff of amusement. “I was thinking of the rain.” He gestured to the window, where rain had just begun to spatter against the glass. “So much for the morning sun.”

She shrugged. “I won’t catch cold from a little rain.”

“Probably not, nevertheless, if you’re coming, we’ll take the traveling chaise. It won’t take much longer, and if we need to, we’ll hire mounts in Quainton.” He tossed his napkin aside and rose from the table. “How long will it take you to be ready?”

“Half an hour.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Most women would take two hours at the very least.”

“I’m not most women.”

His slow smile warmed her. “Indeed you’re not.”

*   *   *