He frowned. “I suppose I’ll have to follow her up to see.”

“ We’ll see you later then, for some Vingt-et-un,” Quin said. At his nod, the two left him, heading for the drawing room Audrey had just vacated.

Could she be ill? Lodge tried to imagine what else might have caused her to run off in such obvious distress, but nothing came to mind. Resigning himself to go and discover the truth for himself, he squared his shoulders and followed her path toward the grand stairs in the front of the abbey.

Just as Quin and Jonas slipped into the drawing room, the bastard Holbrook popped his head out. “Chasing after your wife?” he drawled, crossing his arms lazily over his chest and leaning against a column.

Lodge narrowed his eyes at the blackguard. “What would you know of it? I swear to you, you bloody, lecherous cur, if you’ve done something-”

“ Relax, Veazey. I’ve done you a favor. You can thank me later.”

More likely he’d be drawing the damned scoundrel’s cork later-if not issuing a challenge. But not right now. He needed to get up to Audrey-to discover for himself just how badly Holbrook had damaged her. Nothing with Holbrook’s involvement could bode well.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Lodge called out over his shoulder, “I’ll deal with you later, Holbrook.”

The mongrel had the nerve to let out a snort of disdain. Lodge forced himself to continue up to his wife and to ignore Holbrook-at least for the time being. Holbrook could wait, but Audrey could not.

He threw back the door when he reached their rooms. She wasn’t in the sitting room between their separate chambers, so Lodge knocked on the door of her private chamber. No answer. He knocked again, louder this time, but still she didn’t respond.

Blast, this might be worse than he’d initially feared. He’d rip Holbrook’s arms from his body when he discovered what the rogue had done to upset his wife so fully.