The odds were against him. The odds were extremely against him. But Gregory had always been one to cheer for the underdog. And if there was any sense of justice in the world, any existential fairness floating through the air…If Do unto others offered any sort of payback, surely he was due.
Love existed.
He knew that it did. And he would be damned if it did not exist for him.
Gregory’s first stop was Lucy’s bedchamber, on the second floor. He couldn’t very well stroll into the ballroom and request an audience with one of the guests, but he thought there was a chance that someone had noticed Lucy’s absence and gone off looking for her. God willing it would be someone sympathetic to their cause, someone who actually cared about Lucy’s happiness.
But when Gregory slipped inside the room, all was exactly as he’d left it. “Damn,” he muttered, striding back to the door. Now he was going to have to figure out how to speak to her brother—or Haselby, he supposed—without attracting attention.
He placed his hand on the knob and yanked, but the weight of the door was all wrong, and Gregory wasn’t certain which happened first—the feminine shriek of surprise or the soft, warm body tumbling into his.
“You!”
“You!” he said in return. “Thank God.”
It was Hermione. The one person he knew cared for Lucy’s happiness above all else.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. But she closed the door to the corridor, surely a good sign.
“I had to talk to Lucy.”
“She married Lord Haselby.”
He shook his head. “It has not been consummated.”
Her mouth quite literally fell open. “Good God, you don’t mean to—”
“I will be honest with you,” he cut in. “I don’t know what I mean to do, other than find a way to free her.”
Hermione stared at him for several seconds. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, she said, “She loves you.”
“She told you that?”
She shook her head. “No, but it’s obvious. Or at least with hindsight it is.” She paced the room, then turned suddenly around. “Then why did she marry Lord Haselby? I know she feels strongly about honoring commitments, but surely she could have ended it before today.”
“She is being blackmailed,” Gregory said grimly.
Hermione’s eyes grew very large. “With what?”
“I can’t tell you.”
To her credit, she did not waste time protesting. Instead, she looked up at him, her eyes sharp and steady. “What can I do to help?”
Five minutes later, Gregory found himself in the company of both Lord Haselby and Lucy’s brother. He wou
ld have preferred to have done without the latter, who looked as if he might cheerfully decapitate Gregory were it not for the presence of his wife.
Who had his arm in a viselike grip.
“Where is Lucy?” Richard demanded.
“She is safe,” Gregory replied.
“Pardon me if I am not reassured,” Richard retorted.
“Richard, stop,” Hermione cut in, forcibly pulling him back. “Mr. Bridgerton is not going to hurt her. He has her best interests at heart.”
“Oh, really?” Richard drawled.