The Cursed Countess (The Daring Drake Sisters 1)

Roberts came in but kept his back turned away from them. “There is a constable here to see you and he says is it extremely urgent.”

“A constable?” they said in unison.

“Yes, ma’am...sir.”

“Very well, I need to dress. Tell him I shall be down presently. Ask Anne to assist me.”

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “And your guest?”

“Will go to his lordship’s former room and dress then you will let me know when the hall is free of servants giving me the ability to leave,” Jack replied.

“Very good, sir.” Roberts left the room quickly.

“Why would a constable be here?” Tessa asked, biting her lower lip.

“I have no idea,” he said, but prayed it wasn’t due to Fairchild finding evidence and not giving him some warning. “Do you want me to meet with the man?”

“Of course not! How would that look? Mr. Constable, please speak to my lover because I am too overcome to listen.”

He almost laughed but retrained himself. He did love her independent nature. “As you wish.” He threw off the blanket, picked up his clothing and escaped into the other bedchamber before Anne discovered him.

He couldn’t quite make out their muffled conversation as Tessa dressed but he might learn more later when he interviewed Anne. After dressing, he paced the room, worrying over why a constable would need to speak with her at such an early hour. It must be some terrible news. While she’d asked him not to interfere, he couldn’t help but fear that she would need some comforting this morning.

A soft knock sounded on the door. “Sir, it is Roberts, the corridor is free.”

Jack opened the door with a tight smile. That protective instinct came over him. He couldn’t leave her now. “Thank you, Roberts. Do you have any idea why there is a constable here at this hour?”

“No, sir.” He led Jack down the steps. “But I am worried for her.”

“I believe I should stay to make certain all is well,” Jack commented.

“She only said she didn’t want you to meet with the constable.” Roberts stopped as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “I apologize, sir. I couldn’t help but hear you both through the door.”

“Is there a room where I might hear them speaking?”

“I put him in the small salon. You might hear something from her study.” Roberts led him down the hall. “Follow me.”

Jack entered the room and then sat down in the chair nearest the salon. The voices sounded muffled, but he could make some of their conversation.

“Dead? But she was here just last evening.”

Who? Who had died?

Dammit, the constable’s voice was too low to hear.

“Oh my God!” Tessa exclaimed and then there was a loud thump.

Bloody hell, what was going on in there? Jack raced out of the room and into the salon where a man was leaning over Tessa’s crumpled form on the floor. “Get away from her,” he shouted before coming to her aid. He gently picked her up and laid her on the settee. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

“I should ask the same.”

“John Raynerson, at your service.”

“Lawrence Downing.” The constable sat down in the chair as Tessa groaned slightly. “Who are you to her?”

“A friend,” Jack replied, as he gently caressed her hand.

“A friend who happens to be here at five in the morning,” Downing muttered. “That is quite a friendship.”