Honora looked through the carriage window. "We have no room."
Maudie stared at the carriage. There was clearly room.
Ottilie smiled. "Perhaps you should have worked faster."
The carriage rolled away. Maudie stood alone in the courtyard. Then she lifted her chin. She would go anyway. She found another carriage and climbed inside. She had no idea that before she reached the Duke's ball, she would encounter someone who would make her forget the ball entirely. And somewhere ahead, another carriage was already racing through the countryside. Inside it, Duke Radford Vane had just received an urgent message: his mother was missing.
The Vane estate had been awake since dawn. Carriages rolled through the gates one after another, carrying dukes, countesses, barons, and their carefully dressed daughters. Servants hurried between the ballroom and the kitchens, while musicians rehearsed beneath the high ceilings. Tonight, everyone wanted the same thing: the attention of Duke Radford Vane.
Radford stood near the entrance, listening to his steward explain the final arrangements, when a breathless footman approached. "Your Grace."
Radford turned. "What is it?"
The young man swallowed. "It concerns Lady Ismay."
Radford's expression changed immediately. "What about my mother?"
"She is missing."
The words seemed to drain the noise from the room.
"When was she last seen?"
"Less than an hour ago, Your Grace. Her attendant stepped away briefly, and when she returned, Lady Ismay was gone."
Radford closed his eyes for a moment. His mother had been suffering from severe memory problems for years. On difficult days, she could forget where she was, why she was there, or even recognize the people trying to protect her. But she had never wandered this far.
"Prepare my carriage."
"Your Grace, the guests can wait."
He walked away before the man could answer.
Across the countryside, Maudie's carriage was making its way toward the ball. She watched the fading sunlight through the window and glanced anxiously at the small clock inside. She was late — very late.
Then the carriage suddenly slowed.
"What is happening?" Maudie asked.
The coachman pulled the reins. "There are people ahead, miss."
Maudie looked through the window. Several elegant carriages had stopped along the road. A group of richly dressed women stood together, looking down at something. Then Maudie saw her: an elderly woman lay on the muddy roadside.
Maudie opened the carriage door. "Stop here."
Her coachman looked uncertain. "Miss, we're already late."
"Stop."
He obeyed. Maudie stepped down and approached the group. "What happened to her?"
A woman in a pale blue gown barely glanced at the old woman. "She collapsed."
"Has anyone called for a physician?"
Another woman laughed. "Why bother? She'll probably get up when she's finished causing trouble."
Maudie stared at her. "She could be seriously ill."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "And you are suddenly an authority on illness?"
Maudie ignored her and knelt beside the old woman. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow. "Madam?" There was no response. Maudie looked around. "Please, someone help me lift her."
Nobody moved. Instead, one of the women smiled cruelly. "You should be careful with that gown — though I suppose a little mud won't make much difference to your appearance."
Several women laughed. Maudie felt the familiar sting. She knew what they were looking at: her freckles.
One woman tilted her head. "Actually, perhaps you should stay here. You seem much more suited to tending roadside beggars than attending a duke's ball."
Maudie looked at the old woman again. Then she stood. "Perhaps."
The laughter stopped. Maudie turned toward her coachman. "Bring the carriage closer."
The women stared at her. "Are you leaving the ball?" someone asked.
"If I have to."
She carefully lifted the old woman with the coachman's help and settled her inside the carriage. Then she climbed in beside her. The carriage turned toward the nearest village.
Unknown to Maudie, another carriage had just reached the road. Radford stepped out. He looked toward the departing carriage, then his eyes fell on the elderly woman who had been left in the mud. His breath caught. "Mother." He knew her immediately. Lady Ismay. His mother.
Radford hurried forward, but stopped when he saw Maudie's carriage disappearing down the road. His first instinct was to call after her, then he hesitated. She had already taken care of his mother while believing she was helping a complete stranger.
Radford signaled his driver. "Follow that carriage."
"Your Grace?"
"Quietly."
The carriage followed at a distance.
At the village, Maudie rushed the old woman into Dr. Bellamy's surgery. "Doctor, please. She collapsed on the road."
Dr. Bellamy examined the elderly woman. His face became grave. "How long was she unconscious?"
"I don't know."
"Minutes matter in cases like this." He turned toward his assistant. "Bring the medical bag."
Maudie waited anxiously. After a few tense minutes, the doctor finally looked at her. "She was dangerously close to losing consciousness completely."
Maudie's heart sank. "Will she survive?"
"She has a chance — because you brought her here when you did."