He somehow came to his senses, or at least as much sense as was needed to force his legs into motion. He strode from the room, well aware that his two sisters were gaping at him like landed fish. He called out Iris’s name, but she was nowhere to be seen. His wife was fast, Richard thought wryly. Either that, or she was hiding from him.

“Darling?” he called out, past caring if the entire household could hear him. “Where are you?”

He peered in the drawing room, then the library. Bloody hell. He supposed she had the right to make this difficult for him, but it was beyond time they talked.

“Iris!” he called again. “I really need to speak with you!”

He stood in the center of the hall, frustrated beyond measure. Frustrated, and then extremely embarrassed. William, the younger of the two footmen, was standing in a doorway, watching him.

Richard scowled, refusing to acknowledge the moment.

But then William started to twitch.

Richard could not help but stare.

William’s head began to jerk to the right.

“Are you quite all right?” Richard could no longer avoid asking.

“M’lady,” William said in a loud whisper. “She went into the drawing room.”

“She’s not there now.”

William blinked. He took a few steps and poked his head into the room in question. “The tunnel,” he said, turning back to face Richard.

“The . . .” Richard frowned, peering over William’s shoulder. “You think she went into one of the tunnels?”

“I don’t think she went out the window,” William retorted. He cleared his throat. “Sir.”

Richard stepped into the drawing room, his eyes lighting on the comfortable blue sofa. It had become one of Iris’s favorite spots to read, not that she’d ventured outside her bedchamber in the past few days. At the far wall was the cleverly camouflaged panel that hid the entrance to the most well used of Maycliffe’s secret tunnels. “You’re sure she entered the drawing room,” he said to William.

The footman gave a nod.

“Then in the tunnel she must be.” Richard shrugged, crossing the room in three long strides. “I thank you, William,” he said, his fingers easily working the hidden latch.

“It was nothing, sir.”

“All the same,” Richard said with a nod. He peered into the passageway, blinking into the darkness. He’d forgotten how cold and damp it could get in there. “Iris?” he called out. It was unlikely she’d got very far. He doubted she’d had time to light a candle, and the tunnel grew black as night once it twisted away from the house.