I hurried up the steps of Thorne Manor, my lungs burning from the brisk walk and my mind racing with worry. As I burst through the door, Thomas the footman looked up in surprise.
"Miss Clara! Where's Mr. Alistair? Wasn't he meant to fetch you today?"
"That's why I'm concerned," I said, catching my breath. "He never arrived."
Thomas's brow furrowed. "That's not like him at all."
"I need to speak with the Duke immediately."
Thomas nodded. "He's in his study."
I rushed through the familiar corridors, my heart pounding against my ribs. Something was terribly wrong. In all my years at Thorne Manor, Alistair had never once been late for anything, let alone completely absent from an appointed task.
The door to Duke Alaric Thorne's study was ajar. I knocked hastily before pushing it open.
"Your Grace," I said, my voice trembling slightly.
The Duke looked up from his papers, his expression shifting from mild annoyance at the interruption to concern when he saw my face.
