Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval by Wendy Soliman Read Free Book Online Page B

Frankie said. “Not if their purpose is financial gain. And what other reason could there be? Why take such a huge risk?”
    Clarence knew Frankie was trying to keep everyone’s spirits up, especially his. She must have seen the frequent hostile glances being sent his way by three very angry, very worried, male Sheridans. Clarence couldn’t blame them for…well, for blaming him, because this was all his fault. He should have taken better care of Lady Annalise. Frankie had a soft heart and was attempting to remind everyone that Anna wouldn’t be despoiled, provided they paid handsomely for her release. If they wanted a virginal young woman for reasons Clarence refused to think about, they would not have gone to the considerable trouble it had taken to abduct one from a society ball. There were many other places they could have sought their quarry.
    Reassured, at least on that front, Clarence reapplied his mind to the question of Lady Annalise’s release. He would insist upon paying whatever they asked from his own pocket. It was a small means of making amends, even though he would never forgive himself for his neglect.
    Once he had paid, and Lady Annalise was safely restored to her family, he would seek retribution.
    His blood ran cold at the thought of his delightful dance partner being manhandled by her abductors. For all her insistence that having four rumbustious older brothers had been good training when it came to looking after herself, she must be terrified. Clarence was scarcely less so, because there was nothing he could do for her now, except wait. As a diplomat, waiting was something he was accustomed to doing, and he was remarkably good at it. His patience was legion, and usually worked to his advantage. In this case, he already knew every minute Lady Annalise remained missing would be a torturous reminder of his inability to keep her safe.
    She had delighted him with her irreverent ways, and she was the first lady who had ever given him reason to regret his firm determination to remain single. The thought of doing nothing, of the endless waiting until they received word, filled him with impotent rage. Of course he would send people out to scour London, have every one of his contacts—of whom he had a large network—asking questions everywhere. But this was a well-executed plot, and he doubted whether he would learn anything worthwhile before the ransom demand came.
    “I shall put arrangements in hand to have questions asked,” Clarence told Winchester, giving voice to his thoughts, “and then join you at Sheridan House. I know you probably don’t want me there,” he added, when he sensed all three brothers were about to object, “but you need me. Frankie’s right. Your sister won’t be physically harmed, but the sooner we can find her and get her to safety, the quicker we can get to the bottom of why she, out of all people attending this ball, was targeted.”
    “You think she was taken because she was seen with you?” Winchester asked.
    “I don’t know what to think yet.” Clarence ground his jaw. He almost never allowed his temper to get the better of him. A long career as a diplomat had taught him anger deprived one of the ability to think rationally and seldom worked to one’s advantage. On this occasion, he allowed it to swirl through him unchecked, welcoming the swell of thunderous rage, feeling ready to throttle the bastards with his bare hands just as soon as he discovered their identities.
    Which he most assuredly would.
    Someone had grossly underestimated Clarence by carrying out such an audacious crime—a crime that could not be permitted to go unavenged. Quite apart from his personal interest in the matter, it threatened the entire fabric of society as Clarence knew it, and that was totally unacceptable. A line had been crossed, and the perpetrators needed to be taught a swift, brutal lesson in order to deter others.
    Winchester nodded, first to his brothers, then to Clarence.