by Laura Landon
“Anne’s in the drawing room. She’s waiting in case Mr. Wallace returns with news. Winnie, however, returned to Townsend manor after we left. I wish she hadn’t, but. Anne said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“She went alone?”
His Grace shook his head. “I’m sure she took someone with her. She knows better than to go off alone. Especially with her mother out there. As we already know, there’s no telling what Ernesta’s capable of doing.”
Rachael thought she should be concerned about Winnie, but she didn’t have the energy to worry about anything else right now. The duchess still had Claire, and at the moment, there wasn’t much hope of getting her back anytime soon. Her husband was injured from a bullet his own mother had put in him, and more than anything, she wanted him to heal. She needed to know he would be all right.
“The doctor assured me that Ben will recover quickly,” the Duke of Townsend said in a confident voice. “The bullet wasn’t lodged that deeply, and it came out easily enough. And we’ll get Claire back. I give you my word, Rachael.”
Rachael lifted her gaze. Ben’s father and brother watched her with looks of concern on their faces. She regretted that she was the cause of so much worry, but she wasn’t sure what she’d do if she lost either Ben or Claire. They were her life.
“I am going to check on Eve and the boys,” the Marquess of Sheffield said at last. “When I make sure they’re adequately protected, I’ll join Mack Wallace in his search for Mother. Unless you want me to remain here,” he finished, looking at Rachael for an answer.
“That’s not necessary,” she said. She tried desperately to look confident and in control of her emotions. “Milly is here, and Ben will no doubt sleep a while yet. She’ll help me when he awakens.”
“Take Anne home with you,” the duke said before his son left the room. “There’s no need for her to wait here. She’ll hear any news we have at Townsend Manor as quickly as here.”
Lord Sheffield nodded, then left the room. The duke followed him to the door. “There are several guards posted on the grounds,” he said. “You will be safe, my lady. And I’ll be of more use searching for Ernesta than sitting here. Send someone if you need anything.”
Rachael nodded and the duke left the room with the promise that he’d return later to check on Ben.
When Rachael was alone and the room was quiet, she rinsed a cloth in the basin of water beside the bed and placed a damp cloth on Ben’s forehead. His skin was warm to the touch, but not overly warm, and his breathing was calmer than earlier. Rachael was glad. She wasn’t sure she could stand another scare like the one she’d already had today.
The fact that she could have lost him frightened her to death.
. . .
Ben tried to open his eyes, but they refused to cooperate. He wasn’t sure why, but everything seemed strange, as if he’d spent the night drinking, then gotten into a brawl with a dozen men. And he’d lost the fight.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d drunk too much then couldn’t remember what he’d done the night before. That had happened all too often. But he’d never hurt so badly the morning after. Not only did his head hurt, but his body ached enough that his mind warned him not to move. So he didn’t. He simply lay on the soft mattress and concentrated on opening his eyes. Just a slit.
Rachael was the first sight he saw when he managed to focus. She wasn’t in bed beside him where she belonged, but was asleep in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her. She looked as if she’d spent several hours there.
He opened his mouth to ask her why she wasn’t in bed with him, but his voice refused to work. He closed his eyes again and tried to remember what had happened.
With a flash, the events involving his mother returned with a vengeance. She’d shot him. His mother had tried to kill him.
He struggled to speak again, and this time his voice worked. Barely. “Rachael.” He hadn’t spoken loudly enough to wake her. “Rachael,” he said a little louder. She stirred, then opened her eyes.
“Ben?”
She pushed herself from the chair. The blanket fell to the floor when she rose. “How do you feel?” she asked, touching her hand to his forehead.
“Like hell,” he answered on a groan.
“I don’t doubt it. But at least you don’t have a fever. The doctor said to watch for that.”
“Did she get away?” he asked.
Rachael sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand. “Yes.”
Ben closed his eyes and took in as deep a breath as his body would allow. When the room stopped spinning, he struggled to get up, but Rachael’s hand on his chest held him down. “Your father is out searching for her, as well as an army of men. There’s nothing you can do until you’re stronger.”
He dropped his head back on the pillow. He tried to speak again, but the words were difficult for him to say. “I didn’t think she’d do it,” he said softly. “I didn’t think my mother would shoot me.”
Rachael’s grip tightened around his fingers. “The person who fired that gun at you wasn’t your mother, Ben.”
“Then who the hell was she?” he countered.
“I’m not sure. But she wasn’t your mother. At least, not the mother you’ve always known.” Rachael lifted his hand and cradled it to her breast. “The woman who shot you was a stranger who’d lived with the guilt of the lives she’d taken for so long, that taking another life meant nothing to her. She didn’t see you as her son. She saw you as a threat to everything she wants.”
“My mother’s insane,” he said, speaking past the lump in his throat.
Rachael didn’t answer him for several moments. Finally, she nodded, then said, “Only an insane person would do what she’s done.”
“I should be searching for her,” he said, although he knew that was impossible right now.
“You need to rest. You can help when you’re stronger.”
He would rest now, but he couldn’t afford to stay in bed long. He needed to help in the search to find his mother. The longer she had Claire, the less their chances were that they’d get her back alive.
Ben closed his eyes and was asleep before he could put up a fight to stay awake.
. . .
Ben slept the whole night through, but it had been a restless sleep. He woke the next morning, but neither Rachael nor his father would let him get out of bed, let alone join the search for Ernesta. By that afternoon, not even an army of men could have kept him confined to his bed. He’d rested for most of the day but by evening, he was more than ready to leave his room. Even though his shoulder still sent searing bolts of pain and throbbed mercilessly, he vowed he was healed enough to get up.
He and Rachael ate a light supper, then they sat together on the sofa in front of the fire and he held her next to him as she reported every detail of the last twenty-four hours. She was exhausted. Not only from lack of sleep and the toll that carrying a new life inside her caused, but from worry over Claire. On her first yawn, he kissed her, then took her to her room and ordered Milly to see that her mistress went directly to bed.
Milly got Rachael ready for bed and Ben sat with her while her maid went below for a glass of warm milk. When she returned, Ben kissed Rachael goodnight and returned to his study. He wasn’t tired. He was restless. He knew that if he went to bed, his tossing and turning would keep Rachael awake when she needed sleep more than anything.
He poured himself a glass of brandy, then sat in a comfortable chair before the fire and tried to relax.
Ben wasn’t sure how long he sat there. His thoughts focused on every abandoned cottage near Shadowdown where his mother might be hiding. He knew every inch of the area, and made a mental note of the places where he’d search in the morning.
He swallowed the last of his brandy, then placed his glass on the small table beside him. He’d need his rest if he was going to get up early and begin his search. That’s when he heard it.
At first the sound was far-off in the distance, an
d muffled. It was the sound of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels traveling over the cobbled drive. The sound grew louder as the carriage came closer.
Ben rose from his chair and made his way to his desk. It was far too late for callers, and even if his visitor wasn’t his mother, he wasn’t about to be caught unaware again. He opened the top right drawer of his desk and pulled out the pistol he kept there.
He rushed across the room and opened the door, hoping to surprise the caller, but Henley must have still been up and heard the carriage, too. He opened the door, then reached out. Whoever was there obviously needed assistance.
“My lord,” he called, and Ben rushed to help.
“Winnie?”
His sister looked at him for a moment, then fell into his arms.
“Winnie, what’s happened to you? Are you all right? Have you been hurt?”
She shook her head and clung to him for a moment longer before she pulled herself from his arms.
Her appearance indicated she’d gone days without changing gowns. She was as disheveled as he’d ever seen her. Her dark hair hung loose about her face, and trailed over her shoulders in long, unkempt strands. She no longer wore a bonnet, and her once-new cloak had more than one tear in it.
Her tear-stained face was smudged with dirt, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. She accepted his assistance because it was obvious she wasn’t able to stand on her own.
“Bring the lady something warm to drink, Henley. And something to eat.”
The butler rushed away, then Ben wrapped his uninjured arm around his sister’s trembling body. “Come with me,” he said, leading Winnie into his study. He helped her sit on the sofa in front of the fire, then went to the cupboard and poured her a glass of wine. “Here, drink this.” He handed her the glass. “Slowly, Winnie. Not too fast.”
She slowly dank the wine. When the glass was empty, he took it from her shaking fingers and sat beside her on the sofa. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. When she lifted her head, tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m afraid I must look a fright.”
“You look wonderful. Are you alone?”
She shook her head. “Hodgekens is with me.”
Hodgekens was one of the Duke of Townsend’s oldest and most trusted servants. If anyone could be trusted to keep Winnie safe, Hodgekens was that person. He and Winnie had long had a special relationship. Their mother had often lamented that Winnie spent more hours in the stables than she did in the house with her embroidery, like she was supposed to do.
No one dared tell Her Grace that Hodgekens and the stable hands were teaching Winnie to be an expert…gambler.
“Where have you been, Winnie? What’s happened to you?”
“I’ve found her, Ben. I found Mother.”
Ben couldn’t hide his shock. “Where? How?”
“I followed her after she shot you. I didn’t want to leave you. I was so afraid she’d killed you. But I knew if I didn’t follow her, we’d never find out where she was hiding.”
Ben reached for his sister’s hand and squeezed her fingers. “That was a foolish thing to do,” he said. “You could have been hurt.”
Winnie tried to smile. “Do you wish I wouldn’t have followed her?”
“No, Winnie. I’m glad you did. Where is she?”
“She’s hiding in the old gamekeeper’s cottage close to the cliffs.”
“But that old shack can’t be habitable.”
“It isn’t, Ben. You should see how she’s been living.”
“You saw her? You spoke with her?”
Winnie stammered, then shook her head. “Only through a window.”
“Did you see Claire?”
Winnie nodded. “I tried to sneak in to get her, but I couldn’t. There were too many brambles around the cottage, and when I got through them, I couldn’t open the window. It was locked.”
“Is Mother alone?”
“She must be. I didn’t see anyone else.”
“Is Claire all right?”
“I think so. She looked well enough.”
Before he could ask more, the door opened and Henley brought in a tea tray with slices of bread and meat, as well as leftover cake from dinner. Winnie reached for the food on the tray before Henley could serve her.
“I’m famished,” she said, biting into a slice of bread and meat. “I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday noon.”
Ben gave his sister time to finish her food, and drink some tea before he asked more questions. “Did Mother see you?”
Winnie shook her head. “I don’t think so. I tried not to let her know I was there.”
“Why did you come here instead of going home, Winnie? Father must be frantic with worry.”
“He more than likely doesn’t even realize I’m gone. Anne promised to cover for me when I left to follow you. Father thinks I’m unwell and spending a couple of days in my room. Besides, he’s no doubt been out searching for Mother and hasn’t even asked about me.”
Ben knew Winnie was probably right. “That still leaves the question, why did you come to me instead of Father? Mack Wallace and Nick Stillman are staying at Townsend Manor. They could have gone with you.”
Winnie shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you’d want to know first. And Meadowmont was closer.”
“Of course. Of course.” Ben pulled his sister to him and hugged her.
“But I think Father needs to be with us when we go for her,” she said. “And Mr. Wallace and the other brigadesman he has with him, Nick Stillman. We might need their help.”
“You’re right, of course. I’ll send someone to Townsend Manor right away with word for father to come.”
While Winnie finished her tea, Ben wrote a message for his father, then had Henley send a footman to Townsend Manor to deliver it.
Then, he raced to wake Rachael. He knew she’d never forgive him if he went for Claire without her.
He took the stairs two at a time, praying with every leap upward that by morning he’d have Claire home safely.
And that they’d have their mother turned over to the authorities where she could never cause harm to anyone again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rachael hadn’t stopped talking since the carriage had pulled away from Meadowmont. She was as excited as Ben had ever seen her. And he didn’t blame her. They were going to get their baby back.
“Does the driver know where to go?” she asked, looking out the window. The sun was up and daylight had dawned. Ben was glad. It would make finding and apprehending their mother easier.
“Yes, Chester knows,” Ben answered.
“Did Claire look well?” Rachael asked Winnie for at least the tenth time.
“She looked well, Rachael. And she’ll be even better when you have her with you.”
“Yes,” Rachael said. “Oh, yes.”
Winnie was in the carriage with them. So was their father, the duke.
“Winnie, tell me again how you discovered where your mother was hiding,” His Grace said.
“I followed her, Father. I was hiding behind one of the trees when you met with her. I saw her shoot Ben, then I…” She turned her head and looked at Ben with tears in her eyes. “I thought she’d killed you,” she said as one tear spilled from her eye.
His Grace reached out his hand and covered Winnie’s hand with his.
“I saw Mr. Wallace and Mr. Stillman on the other side of the meadow, but I knew they couldn’t reach Mother before she escaped, so I followed her. She ran through the trees, then she followed a narrow path that led from the grove of trees and toward the edge of the cliff. She disappeared then and I realized she’d entered a cave at the bottom.
“I waited, thinking she’d come back out, that she was hiding until everyone gave up looking for her, but she didn’t appear again. After several hours, I found the courage to follow her path down to the sandy beach, and enter the cave.”
Winnie looked at her father. “Did you
know there were caves at the base of the cliffs, Father?”
“I knew, but I didn’t once think of them when we were searching for your mother. They’ve been there for years. I think they were once used by smugglers. But how did your mother know about the caves?”
“Probably the same way she knew about the secret entrances into Meadowmont,” Ben said. “How else could she have made her way into the house and to Claire’s room without any of the men guarding the grounds seeing her?”
“Was Mother living in the caves?” Ben asked his sister.
Winnie shook her head. “No, but I think she hid in the caves during the day when she knew men were searching for her. Then she spent the nights in the gamekeeper’s cottage. There are several steps at the back of the cave that lead up to an opening a few yards from the cottage. I think she kept Claire in the cave during the day so no one heard her if she cried.”
Ben felt Rachael stiffen beside him. She leaned to the side and looked out the window. “Are we almost there?” she asked. Ben knew she couldn’t wait to have little Claire safely in her arms.
“Yes, almost,” Winnie answered. “We won’t have to go through the cave. We can go directly to the cottage.”
Ben held Rachael’s hand as they closed in on their destination. Finally, their carriage slowed, then stopped.
The carriage carrying Gideon, Mack Wallace, and Nick Stillman stopped near them and Ben released Rachael’s hand to disembark. The men met to decide how to proceed.
“We can’t forget that Her Grace is armed, and willing to use the weapon,” His Grace said when they discussed their options.
“And there’s Claire,” Ben added.
Mack Wallace turned to Ben, and gave him a look that said the investigator agreed with him. “The babe will be our first concern, my lord. We won’t have succeeded if something happens to the babe.”
Ben expressed his thanks with a nod. But his heart raced when he realized how easily something could go wrong. Claire could be hurt—or worse.
“That means we have to count on surprising the duchess,” Nick Stillman said. “How far are we from the cottage?” he asked.
Ben pointed to the right. “Not far. Just through those trees.”
