Protecting Lady Esther (The King's League)

“Papa?”

Esther peered into her father’s study as she carefully pushed the door open, expecting to see him within. The room was, unfortunately, entirely empty, and there was a slight chill about the place that made her wonder when he had been here last.

Frowning to herself, Esther walked a little further into the room as though she expected there to

be some sort of clue as to where her father might be. He had not been at breakfast, and upon asking one of the footman, she had been reassured that he was not still abed. So where might he have gone? It was much too early for afternoon calls, and Lord Leighton was not the sort of gentleman to go out walking early in the morning.

Her heart twisted painfully as she recalled how her father had given her that beautiful locket only yesterday. She had worn it to the ball last evening, which her father had not accompanied her to, but rather he had left her in the care of her aunt. He had, however, told her just how beautiful she looked and had commented on the locket around her neck. Her eyes closed tightly against the flood of tears that rushed towards her, her breathing a little ragged as she rested her hands on her father’s study desk. Just where was he?

“Oh, Lady Esther! Excuse me, I–”

Her eyes flew open, only to see a maid standing there with her expression one of sheer embarrassment, evidently having come to dust and clean in Lord Leighton’s study but having accidentally stumbled upon Esther instead.

“It is quite all right,” Esther said quickly, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief and straightening up. “Do come in and go about your duties.”

“Thank you, miss,” the maid murmured, her head low as she came into the room. “What with the master gone, I thought it best to get his study in order until he returns.”

Esther, who had been on her way towards the door, stopped dead. “Gone?” she repeated, turning around slowly to see the maid looking back at her with an astonished expression. “Lord Leighton is gone somewhere?”

The maid bit her lip, looking all about her. “I did not mean to speak out of turn, miss.”

“No, no,” Esther replied hastily. “It is only that I did not know my father had gone from London.” She studied the maid carefully, feeling a deep sense of shame that her staff seemed to know more about her father’s disappearance than she did. “Where has my father gone?”

The maid glanced at her and then shrugged. “I don’t know, Lady Esther. It’s not my place to know. The butler just said that the master was gone—out of town—on some business. That is all I know.”

Esther blinked rapidly, her heart fluttering in an uncomfortable fashion.

“He left last evening, as far as I know,” the maid finished, now appearing a little embarrassed. “I didn’t see him myself, Lady Esther, but the butler—”

“Thank you,” Esther interrupted, more firmly than she had first intended. “That answers a good many questions. I shall leave you to go about your duties now.” She did not wait for the maid to say anything more in response but rather swung back on her heel and strode from the study, keeping her shoulders down and her head up. It would not do for the staff to know of her sorrow and confusion, especially when it seemed that they knew more about her father’s whereabouts than she did!

Making her way towards the drawing room in the hope of finding her aunt, Esther threw her mind back to when her father had given her the locket. It had been only a few minutes after his visitor, whomever it had been, had departed from the house, and Esther was quite certain that her father had either been afraid of the gentleman with the scar, or he had been left sorrowful over what had been shared. Perhaps there had been a bit of both, but—for whatever reason—Esther recalled, he had not wanted to answer her question as to who the gentleman was. He had avoided answering her altogether, in fact, and had brought out the locket instead of telling her what the trouble had been.

Had it been simply a matter of her father thinking that the subject had nothing whatsoever to do with Esther? Had it been his way of protecting her? Or was there something more malevolent about the gentleman and his visit to London?

“Aunt?”

She pushed open the drawing room door to see her aunt sitting quietly by the fireplace, although no fire burned there today. She was reading through some correspondence, it seemed, for she looked up to smile at Esther with an unfolded letter in her hand.

“Good morning, Esther,” Lady Ware murmured quietly, dropping her gaze back to her letter. “Come now, I will share with you all the news from Alexandrea, who has written to share such lovely–”

“Where is my father?”

Esther’s interruption made Lady Ware frown as she put her letter down carefully, looking up at Esther with sharp eyes.

“I do not mean to be rude,” Esther said quickly, before her aunt could begin to criticize her. “But it is only that I cannot find my father anywhere, and I was hoping to share with him the news of how last evening’s ball fared.” She watched her aunt carefully, seeing the frown grow steadily deeper rather than clear entirely.

“My dear girl, did he not inform you that he was to go out of London on a matter of some urgency?” Lady Ware said slowly, her expression now both curious and surprised. “There was a short note waiting for me only this morning—after I broke my fast. You did not know of it?”

A little sorrowful, Esther slumped down into one of the nearby chairs and shook her head, her heart growing suddenly painful. Her father had written a note to Lady Ware but had not left one for her?

“Well, I am surprised that he did not do so, but he must have expected me to simply share this with you,” Lady Ware said in a practical tone. “I am here to guide you through society this Season, and therefore, he obviously left me to deal with this matter.”

Esther swallowed her tears, refusing to allow them to fall. It was not like her father to behave so, she was quite certain, for he did not often keep such things from her. Even if he was to go out for an afternoon call, he would always inform her of where he was going and when he expected to be back. So why had he not done so now, particularly when he was gone from London entirely?

“The note did not state much at all,” Lady Ware continued when Esther said nothing. “Just that he has some business that needs his immediate attention, and so he has returned to the estate. It will take him a few days to do all that is required of him, and then he hopes to return to us here.”

Esther mentally calculated that, with the time it took to return to the estate and then back to London once he had resided there a few days, Lord Leighton might very well be absent from town for over a fortnight. She swallowed hard again, a warning ringing in her ears. A warning that she could not ignore. There was something wrong here, something that she could not quite understand. Her father had looked so sorrowful the last time she had seen him and had appeared so very upset over some matter that he would not share with her. She could not get her sense of worry removed from her heart. Was his absence in some way connected to the visitor who had called upon Lord Leighton, the gentleman with the scar? The snippets of conversation she had overheard rang back in her ears all over again, reminding her of the strangeness of what had been said. No, she determined, shaking her head. There was more to her father’s absence than there first appeared, more to his hasty retreat from London than a mere matter of business. She did not know what it could be, nor had she any way of discovering the truth, but there came a slow-growing sense of fear mixed with determination. Determination that she would discover the answers that she now required.