Chapter Seventeen
Lucy woke before dawn and stretched, anticipating wet kisses on her cheek from Hercules. That was how he roused her in the morning. When the wet kisses didn’t come, the nightmare of losing her most precious companion returned. Sorrow like she had never known clutched at her heart.
“Oh, Hercules. My dear little man. Where are you?”
She clung to the hope that someone would find him and take him in, love him as she did, and care for him. If Alex found Hercules, he would care for him.
She sat up in bed, a small flame of an idea sparking hope inside her. If Alex were looking for her, as Liam said he would, perhaps he would find Hercules on the road. If so, he could return the little dog. That is if he knew where to find her.
Lucy heard stirring in the taproom below, the tavern mistress preparing breakfast for the guests. She scrambled to her feet and gathered her things.
An hour later, as Lucy was finishing her last bite of egg-soaked bread, Liam descended the stairs and sauntered into the dining area.
“My, you’re up early. Anxious to see your precious Langley, are you? He is a lucky man to have found such an eager bride.” Liam plucked an uneaten bit of sausage from her plate and tossed it into his mouth.
Lucy wanted nothing more than to be shut of his smug face and suggestive remarks.
“I’ve hired a driver to take us to Dunrobin. Get your things and follow me.”
“What about Elizabeth?”
“She’s taking our carriage to Ulbster. I’ll be delivering you to Langley alone.”
She should be glad to be rid of the vicious woman. She hoped never to lay eyes on that monster again. Still, traveling alone with Liam did not sit well with her. He must have seen the reluctance in her face, for the next thing he said spoke to her uncertainty.
“Don’t worry, my dear. You are the last woman on earth with whom I’d make amorous congress.”
Before Lucy exited the Latheron Inn, she sent one last look to the tavern mistress, and prayed the woman would be true to her word.
…
Alex and Ian burst through the door to the tavern, upsetting the maidservant. Her tray of pewter tankards crashed and clanged to the floor. Chairs screeched and toppled over as startled patrons got to their feet.
“Has anyone seen a young lass with dark hair?” asked Alex. “She would have been traveling with another man and woman.”
The inn patrons returned blank stares. Some shrugged apologies and sat down again. Others finished their ale, making to leave.
In a much less threatening voice, Ian said, “Please. The lass may be in danger. If you know anything, we would be much obliged.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw the maidservant shift her gaze to a large woman standing near the door to the summer kitchen. Those two knew something but were afraid to speak out. He was certain of it. Alex gave an apologetic nod to the room in general as he backed out of the inn with Ian. “We didnae mean to interrupt your meal. Please forgive us.”
Once outside, Alex said, “Ian, wait here with Magnus and Declan. I mean to speak to the tavern mistress. I ken she knows a thing or two about Lucy.”
“Go gently,” Ian cautioned.
Alex paused at the remark. His brother was right. Go gently. And if that didn’t work, he’d wring the information he craved out of the woman with his bare hands.
He walked around the tavern to the small structure located behind the main building. The large woman, presumably the tavern owner’s good wife, stood just inside the entry to the kitchen, waiting for him. She did know something.
“Good afternoon, mistress.” Alex gave the woman a deferential nod. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me?”
She motioned for Alex to step inside. “What is your name?” the woman asked.
“Alex Sinclair of Balforss. Miss Lucy FitzHarris is my fiancée. She’s been taken from my house.”
“Are you so certain she wants you to find her?”
“I believe the people who took her may mean her harm. Please, what can you tell me?”
The woman remained mute. Alex pulled a sovereign from his sporran and held it up for her to inspect.
She withdrew a folded scrap of parchment from the pocket of her soiled apron and handed it to Alex in exchange for the coin. The unsealed scrap of paper was addressed to him.
“She gave it to me in haste. Asked me not to tell the gentleman she was with about it,” the tavern mistress said.
Heart pounding, hope mounting, he unfolded the parchment.
Alex,
I am to Dunrobin Castle. From there, on to London posthaste. Due to treachery, poor Hercules is lost. My heart breaks for him so frightened and alone. If, by some miracle, you find him, I beg you to set aside your anger and return him. He is innocent in all this. I would be forever in your debt.
Lucy
Shit. Dunrobin. Sutherland. Patrick Bloody Sellar. As if written in larger letters than the rest, the words treachery, frightened, and alone leapt off the page. The words cut him, lanced his chest open, exposing his heart. It was Lucy who was frightened and alone, surrounded by treachery. Most awful was the word anger. Did she think he was angry? With her? Surely it should be the other way around. He’d allowed Elizabeth to kiss him.
“Are you well, sir? You look a wee bit peely-wally.” The young maidservant he’d seen earlier in the tavern had entered the summer kitchen without his notice. He snapped out of his stupor.
To the tavern mistress, he demanded, “When did they leave?”
“But an hour ago,” she said.
Alex raced to the horses and flung himself into his saddle. “Liam has taken her to Dunrobin. We have to find Lucy before Sellar gets his hands on her. Magnus, ride east. Find my father and his men. Meet us at Dunrobin as quick as you can.” Hercules, still tucked within the sheltering folds of Magnus’s plaid, poked his wee head out. “And guard the dog with your life, man.”
“Aye.”
Magnus turned east toward Wick at a gallop, and Alex, Ian, and Declan spurred their horses west. It was twenty miles to Dunrobin Castle. A good two-hour ride if the weather and the horses held up. Chances were slim they’d find Liam and Lucy before they reached Dunrobin. And if they didn’t…
It would take Magnus twelve hours at best to find his father and return with them to Dunrobin. More likely, it would be mid-day tomorrow. What was worse, Alex had no plan. They would not be welcome at Dunrobin. They would likely meet with hostility, but he must speak to Lucy. He had to find her. He would let nothing stop him from that single goal.
And if Sellar laid a hand on her, he would lose that hand, and then Alex would end the bastard’s life.
…
Lucy and Liam made the journey along the coast in silence, stopping once for personal needs. Liam made only one attempt at conversation.
“What do you have in that wooden case?”
“None of your business.”
He laughed. “Whatever’s inside, it must be precious. You’ve never let the case out of your sight this entire trip.”
“If you must know, it contains a gift from my father. It has no value beyond what it means to me.”
Lucy turned her head away and feigned interest in the scenery. In truth, all she could think about was Hercules. Chances were slim she would ever see her beloved pet again. So many stars had to align for her prayer to be answered. Hercules had to survive on the moor. Alex had to find him. The tavern mistress had to give Alex her note. And what if Alex hadn’t even bothered to come after her?
No. He would come. Even if he cared nothing for her, he cared about his blasted honor, his promise to her father, his oath.
The driver called something out, a cry of distress. “What did he say?” she asked Liam. Before he could answer her, she heard the thunder of horses approaching fast from behind.
Liam leaned out the window. Spotting whoever was behind them, he shouted to the driver, “Drive on, man. Drive on! We’re being pursued!”
One crack of the whip and the tiny coach jerked forward, sending Lucy tumbling out of her seat into Liam’s lap. She scrambled to her seat again, searching his face for some explanation as to what was happening. Liam looked stricken with panic.
“Who’s chasing us?”
He offered no answer. As the driver picked up speed, the greenery outside the windows blurred past. The whip cracked again. Hooves striking the muddy road grew nearer.
Again, she called to Liam. “Is it Alex? Is Alex chasing us?”
A loud bang and the coach jumped. Lucy bounced once before her bottom hit the seat and sent her ricocheting upward, her head hitting the ceiling of the cabin. Again, she fell against Liam, her forehead striking his shoulder.
Fear dulled the pain. Rather than helping her to her seat, Liam wrapped his arms around her. They swayed to and fro, careening violently from side to side along the road, each time making a wider and wider path.
“Hang on, Lucy.”
…
They had traveled a little over half the distance to Dunrobin when Declan raised his hand. His cousin studied the tracks on the road.
“Look here, man,” Declan said. “Where the prints dig deeper and the mud from the road is disturbed.”
“Aye, I see.” They trotted farther down the road, examining the tracks.
“And here. Where the carriage wheels swing right, then left,” Declan said, pointing.
Realization dawning, Alex kicked Goliath hard. “They were chased!”
Goliath galloped another half mile to a sharp bend in the road. Horse and rider narrowly made the turn without crashing sidelong into a stand of trees. Just ahead, Alex spotted the wreck toppled on its side with an agitated horse tangled in the twisted harness. Hope and dread rippled through his body as he flung himself off Goliath and sprinted to the broken coach. He peered inside. No one. Only a small black derby. Lucy’s hat.
“She’s not here,” Alex blurted. He reined in his fear. “Quick, search the brush. She may have been thrown clear.
Declan did his best to detach the crazed carriage horse from its harness, while Alex and Ian thrashed through the undergrowth lining the road.
“I found the driver.” Ian shouted.
“Alive?”
“Nae. Shot dead.”
Panic bit Alex in the side. Lucy. Where was Lucy? She had to be alive. He wouldn’t accept any other outcome. He saw a rustling in the brush farther up the road and ran toward the movement. Liam, crawling on his belly, the back of his coat soaked in blood. “Over here,” Alex called. Alex knelt beside Liam.
“Where’s Lucy?”
“Help me. I’m shot.” Liam’s voice sounded strangled. His breathing was labored, and blood was leaking from his mouth.
“Turn him over,” Ian said.
Liam yelped when Declan and Liam rolled him onto his back.
“Where’s Lucy? Was she hurt? Did someone take her?” Alex demanded.
Ian waved Alex off. He unbuttoned Liam’s waistcoat and tore open his shirt. A hole the width of Alex’s thumb bled profusely. Ian removed Liam’s cravat. Using the balled-up material to staunch his wound, he asked, “What happened, man?”
“They took her,” Liam managed to say.
“Who? Who took her?” Alex leaned closer for the answer.
“Two men.” Liam grabbed Alex’s sleeve and coughed, spraying blood. “Shit. I’m dying.”
“What did they look like? Which way did they go? Tell me, Goddammit.”
Liam closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Is there anything I would say to your da for you?” asked Ian.
Liam choked, unable to catch a breath. He kicked and grappled, clawing at his throat, then at Ian’s arm. His eyes filled with terror, a disturbing sight. At last, after nearly a minute of struggle, his flailing abated. Liam went limp, and the blood ceased to seep from his wound.
Alex bent over in agony. “This is Sellar’s doing,” he growled.
“I’d say the same, if I were to guess. What makes you so certain?” Ian asked.
“I saw Sellar last week. He threatened to harm Lucy if I didnae stop interfering in his business. We saw him again when we went to see about Margaret Mackay. He knows Da has what he needs now to have him arrested.”
“But why kidnap her? Liam was delivering her to Dunrobin,” Ian asked.
“To throw suspicion elsewhere!” Alex cried, losing control. “To frighten Da into backing down!”
“Easy, brother.”
Alex took a deep breath. “With Liam dead, he could deny any knowledge of her whereabouts.”
“What about this Langley fellow?”
Alex shook his head and paced. He didn’t care about Langley. He wanted Lucy.
“Do you think Sellar has her at Dunrobin?” Ian asked.
Coming to a stop in front of his brother, Alex said, “I’ll bet my life on it.”
“It rained last night.” Declan pointed to the road. “We can follow the trail. Two horses plain as day. If it leads to Dunrobin, we’ll know for certain.”
“Right the coach, and help me put the bodies inside,” Ian said. “We’ll take the horse. We may need it.”
“There’s no time.” Alex cried out. His brother’s lack of urgency was maddening. Lucy had been lost to him for twenty-four hours. Didn’t Ian know every second they wasted she would slip farther and farther from his grasp? He seized Goliath’s reins and lifted a boot to the stirrup. A heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Let me go, Ian. I dinnae want to hurt you.” He shook himself free.
Ian made a grab for his arm. Pure reflex took hold of Alex. He spun around and slammed his fist into Ian’s jaw. Ian’s head snapped back before he fell on his ass. Instant remorse hit him full on at the sight of his brother sitting in the mud, wiping blood from his split lip.
“Christ. I’m sorry.”
Ian cursed under his breath. “Think, man. Think. They’ve taken her to Dunrobin Castle. Sellar willnae harm her until he has what he wants from Da. If you go riding into the yard sword drawn, as I know you want to do, you’ll jeopardize Lucy’s life.”
As usual, his brother was the voice of reason. Da had always said Alex was the brawn and Ian the brain. He held out a hand, and Ian grasped his forearm with caution before Alex yanked him into his embrace.
“I’m sorry, brother,” Alex said.
Ian thumped him hard on the back twice, signaling he was forgiven.
But Alex hadn’t forgiven himself. This was all his fault. All of it. From beginning to end. His rash, impulsive behavior had brought them to this desperate point. That was what Lucy meant. I beg you to set aside your anger. She knew her disappearance would drive him to the brink of insanity. He had to let go of his anger or he might lose her forever.
Declan approached, holding an empty blue satchel in one hand and a yellow gown in the other, both Lucy’s. “Found these strewn about. I ken they took anything else of value. Her bitty bow case is still inside the carriage.”
Alex swallowed hard, on the brink of frustrated tears. “She’ll want her bow. It’s precious to her.”
“We’ll find them,” Declan said, baring his teeth. “And we’ll slit their bloody throats.”