“It was nothing but a dream,” Amelia answered shaking her head, sorry for having concerned him.
“I am greatly relieved that you are well. I was concerned that one of the rough men below had ascertained that you were not a man and come to harass your virtue.”
“Nay, nothing so ribald. I was dreaming of Grace.”
“I am so very sorry, Amelia. I swear to you on all that is holy, if there is any way that we can save her, we shall do so. I will not rest until all possibilities for her rescue have been exhausted.”
The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. Amelia looked at him standing there in the gentle light’s glow, his hair shining golden as a halo atop his head. His shirt hung open at the neck exposing the muscled chest beneath, and for the first time in her life she saw what the other ladies of the ton must have seen in him. He was angelic in his glory, handsome, strong, determined, faithful in their shared cause. The light in his eyes changed as he looked down at her and he moved toward her.
Alarmed, Amelia moved back away. “I am sorry I did not mean to…” he began.
“Thank you,” she whispered, then shut the door in his face.
Chapter 5
You fool! You romantic muddle-headed fool!
Tristan turned away from Amelia’s door and returned to his room. He could not believe that he had been so foolish as to allow his emotions to get the better of him at such a time. Not only was her sister missing, but they were alone together without a chaperone. Had anything happened between them, no matter how innocent, her reputation would have been in tatters. He would have loved more than anything to wed her, he had always wished to wed her, but he would have her in love, or not at all.
I will not allow her reputation to be destroyed on my account simply because of my own foolish heart. I love her too much to see her brought to ruin.
He thought back to the first time he had ever met her when they were but children. He had fallen off of his horse while riding along the border of their neighboring estates. Amelia and Jonathan had been out walking, and seeing his fall came to his rescue. Amelia had tended to his wounds, ripping a section from the hem of her own dress to stave off the flow of blood from his head. She had tied it about his skull as a bandage and had held him in her arms until Jonathan had returned with help.
To soothe him and keep him calm, she had sung to him quietly as if singing to a babe in arms. From that moment forward he had loved her. She had paid him little mind since, but he had never forgotten it. He and Jonathan had forged a strong friendship in the years that followed. Tristan had visited Canterley many times, and Jonathan had come to Ayle many more. Amelia had never again given him anything more than the usual pleasantries one gave to any friend of the family.
When their fathers had expressed an interest in the two of them becoming betrothed, Tristan could not have been happier, but Amelia had refused. Tristan could have had any woman in England, but he had only ever had eyes for Amelia Dowding. Amelia had only ever cared for her brother and sister. Nothing else was of consequence.
Sighing, Tristan lay down upon his bed and attempted to sleep. Closing his eyes, he allowed the darkness to overtake him, swirling around behind his eyelids in a black fog. The last thing he remembered seeing before slumber took him was Amelia standing clad in only a sheet, the light of the fire dancing along her bare shoulders in whispering kisses of golden light.
* * *
He nearly kissed me! How could he think of romance in a time such as this!?
Amelia paced the floor in fury. You were openly admiring his attributes, her conscience reminded her making her feel guilty, causing her to flush from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Now is not the time for such foolishness. Shaking her head, she marched over to the bed and attempted to fall back to sleep. Images of Tristan’s golden godlike masculine beauty flitted through her mind causing her to toss and turn angrily. I will not succumb to his seductions!
Punching her pillow, she sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. She stared into the flames and turned her thoughts back to Grace. She hoped that her sister had a fire to keep her warm and a bed to lie upon, but she doubted it. Any person who was cruel enough to abduct a young girl, would most likely not be minded of such comforts. When she finally grew drowsy, Amelia laid down once more. Lying on her side she closed her eyes and prayed that when she awoke, she would have found the entire ordeal to be nothing but a dream.
When morning came, and she awoke to the same horrible truth of the night before, Amelia arose and attempted to once again face the unknown. She met Tristan downstairs and they broke the fast before heading back out onto the road. When Tristan joined her from the stables, he had an excited light in his eyes.
“There is a man here in the stables who thinks he might have seen something suspicious on the day that Grace was taken. He said he was on an errand for his master, when he passed five or six men on horseback heading north. He said he could not be sure, but it was possible that they might have had a woman with them. He said he did not give them much notice at the time, but he did say that he remembered them being a rather rough looking group.”
“That must be them,” Amelia’s hopes rose significantly at the news. “North? Did he say which road?”
“Headed toward Slantonshire.”
Amelia’s brows rose in surprise. “So near her fiancé’s estate? Rather brazen of them.”
“Either that or someone on his estate is behind the kidnapping.”
“Not Henry.”
“No, never Henry. He loves Grace to his last dying breath, but that would not stop someone in his service from betraying him.”
“That would explain how he managed to receive a ransom letter at around the same time that we did.”
“Yes, it would.”
“To Slantonshire then?”
“To Slantonshire,” Tristan nodded his head and they both left the inn to mount their horses. Turning north, they set out for the Duke of Slantonshire’s estate.
* * *
Henry Booth, Duke of Slantonshire, paced anxiously back and forth as he conducted the interviews of his household. The idea that someone within his own employ could be responsible for such a heinous act as to abduct the beautiful Lady Grace was beyond his grasp to fathom. If they have harmed a hair on her lovely head, I will have them hung, drawn, and quartered!
Starting at the senior most ranking staff he worked his way down the list one person at a time. It was a time consuming, miserable task. At its end he was no wiser than when he had started. When Fergus MacDonald, the stablemaster of Canterley, arrived at his door, Henry was about to speak with his tenants. “Yer Grace,” Fergus bowed low as he greeted the Duke.
“Fergus?” Henry was surprised to see him. He doubted that the Viscount would have let him leave Canterley willingly unless he had no other choice. Fergus was well heralded as one of the best stablemasters in the British Isles and was the only one that could handle the Viscount’s favorite stallion. “Has there been news of Lady Grace?”
“Nae, Yer Grace. There has nae, but I bring ye word from Lady Amelia.”
“Lady Amelia? She has not been taken as well has she?”
“Nae, Yer Grace, but she begs o’ ye a favor durin’ this terrible time.”
“Of course, anything.”
“If the Viscount asks ye if Lady Amelia returned tae Slantonshire with ye, Lady Amelia asks that ye dinnae deny it.”
“And why would I do such a thing?” Henry frowned in confusion.
“She is out searchin’ for Lady Grace under the guise that she is with ye here at Slantonshire.”
“I see. You left her alone?”
“Nae, I did nae do such a thing. She is with the Earl o’ Ayle.”
“I see. Does the Viscount know that you are gone?”
“I did nae ask for permission if that is what ye are askin’.”
Henry nodded his head. “We will need to come up with an explanation for that as well then.”
“Aye, that would be best, Yer Grace.”
“Come, Fergus. I was just about to interview my tenants. I would be glad of the help.”
“O’ course, Yer Grace. I would be glad tae do so.”
“I assume that Lady Amelia will be making her way here so as not to make liars of us both.”
“Aye, Yer Grace.”
“Good. We will look forward to her arrival.”
It took several days to speak with each and every tenant on the estate. Some they visited in person; others came to them at the manor house. They were in the middle of speaking with one of the crofters when Amelia and Tristan arrived at Slantonshire. Henry and Fergus met them at the door.
“’Tis glad I am tae see ye safe, lass,” Fergus came forward taking Amelia’s horse.
“Tristan,” Henry came forward and greeted his old friend.
“Henry,” Tristan greeted in return. He dismounted and gave Henry a firm handshake.
“’Tis good to see you in this time of strife, my dear fellow.” Henry was glad of the support in the search for Grace.
“I only wish our visit were under better circumstances.”
“As do I. Have you had any word?”
“Yes, we have,” Amelia rushed forward excitedly. From the dark circles under her eyes he could tell that she had not slept well at all in the time since they had last spoke. She was wearing what he could only assume must have been her brother’s clothing. “A group of rough looking men were seen headed north in this direction around the time that Grace was taken.”
“They were headed here?” Henry asked in disbelief.
Tristan nodded. “That is what the man said. Whether here or further on to Scotland I do not know, but I did not feel it was a simple coincidence. Were you able to ascertain anything from your own people?”
“Not as of yet.”
Tristan studied the landscape around them as if he were thinking of what could be done. “Who is remaining to speak with?”
“There is an elderly couple at the farthest northern section of the estate that are unable to travel on their own. Fergus and I were going to go and speak with them upon the morrow after we finished here. You are both more than welcome to join us.”
“Yes, thank you,” Amelia answered. It was clear by her gait that she was exhausted beyond measure.
“For now, let us go inside. I am sure that you are both hungry and tired from your journey.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Henry escorted his guests inside and instructed the butler, Graham, to provide for their needs. Once his guests were settled, he returned to interviewing the crofter he had been speaking with upon Amelia and Tristan’s arrival.
“I know nothing of the men you seek, Your Grace. I swear to you that I do not.” The young crofter looked up at his master with frightened eyes.
Henry was not certain whether the young man was intimidated by being summoned by a Duke or if he was lying, but something was amiss. He studied the crofter’s face silently for some time. The man could not meet Henry’s eyes as he shifted from one foot to the next. He held his weathered cloth hat in his hands. The longer Henry stared, the more anxious the crofter became. Henry knew that the young man lived not far from the elderly couple he had spoken to Tristan about.
Perhaps they will know something and be more willing to share it.
“I swear to you that I do not know.” The crofter’s voice cracked in distress. He was clearly beside himself over something.
“I ask you again, Jarod, did you see a group of men with a lady pass this way? The lady in question is Grace Dowding, the future Duchess of Slantonshire, and as such she is your mistress. Where do your loyalties lie, Jarod? With your own cowardice, or with those who care and provide for you?”
The crofter’s face had never looked more guilty. “I have a family to be thinking about, Your Grace. I do not wish to put any of them in harm’s way.”
“And if you do not tell me the truth about what you saw, Lady Grace will surely suffer.”
Taking a shuddering breath, Jarod closed his eyes. “I saw a group of men pass by my croft several days ago. They were very rough looking men, Your Grace, and they had a girl with them slung over the back of a horse. She looked dead, Your Grace. I cannot have such men learning of my involvement in this, Your Grace. My family is worth more to me than anything else in the world.”
“No one is going to learn of your helping Lady Grace and take your children, Jarod. I will see that you are protected. Now tell me all that you observed about the men. What did they look like? What direction were they riding in?” Henry’s heart raced in fear at the man’s declaration of death. She cannot be dead! What would be the point in demanding a ransom for someone who was dead?
“They were riding north toward Scotland. They each had scarves up around their faces and necks, whether to protect them from the cold winds or to hide their identities I do not know, but I was unable to get a clear look at them. Their clothing and hats were rough. They were not men of quality, Your Grace.”
Henry nodded slowly as the magnitude of what lay before him set in. The pain of losing Grace yawned as a black pit of despair threatening to swallow him whole. He would have to cross over into Scotland and search for her. Where are they taking her? The pain in his chest grew with every desperate breath. With the crofter’s words ringing in his ears, the possibility that he might never see his beautiful love again weighed heavy upon him.
“Is there anything else that you can tell me, Jarod?”
“Nay, Your Grace. That is all that I can remember.”
“You may return to your croft for the night, Jarod, but I will be out for you to show me exactly where they rode past tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Jarod donned his hat and scurried from the room.
Henry arose and went to find his guests. He found them in the library sitting around the fireplace. Tristan looked up and read Henry’s face. “What have you discovered?” he asked rising to his feet.
Henry relayed the conversation that he had had with the crofter, Jarod. Amelia sprang to her feet. “He said she looked dead?” Horror transformed her features as tears instantly sprang to her eyes.
“I do not believe that she is in spite of appearances. What would be the point in demanding a ransom for a dead woman?”
“Many a family would wish to bury their dead and not leave them to rot in the sun along a road somewhere,” Amelia pointed out.
“That is true, but I have never heard of anyone doing such a thing.”
“Nor, I,” Tristan offered in reassurance.
Henry stepped forward and took his future sister’s hands into his own. He hoped that she would forgive the informality given their circumstances. “If she were dead, I would feel it, we would feel it.”
Amelia nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. “Yes, we would.” She squared her shoulders and attempted to regain some semblance of fortitude.
“We shall set out in pursuit upon the morrow. Until then, let us rest for the long journey ahead. I will send word to the Viscount and Jonathan, that you are all with me and what is afoot.”
Amelia nodded her consent. “That would be best. Make it clear for Fergus’ sake that I demanded he come with me.”
“’Twas more the other way around, lass,” Fergus reminded.
“Yes, but this way it will be I not you who faces his ire.”
“I would nae wish that upon ye.”
“Nevertheless…” Amelia held Fergus’ eyes until he gave way to her plan.
“Verra well, but only because I dinnae wish tae leave ye were I tae be dismissed.”
“For you, Fergus, I would consent to marry one of my father’s many noble suitors if only to give you a permanent home with me.”
Henry caught Fergus looking at Tristan with a knowing expression. Tristan met his eyes and nodded then looked away. Something is afoot there, Henry noted silently. Separating, they each retired to their respective rooms.
The night was a long one filled with tears and worry. When morning dawned, Amelia felt as if she had not slept a moment and awoke just as exhausted as she had been upon arriving at Slantonshire. Her head pounded and her vision was blurred. As she climbed out of bed she wobbled dizzily for a moment. The emotional toll that her sister’s absence was taking on her had manifested itself into the physical realm. She walked over to a washstand in the corner and splashed her face with some water.
As long as I can still sit astride a horse…
Slipping back into Jonathan’s clothes, she made her way down the stairs and found everyone else in an equally-disheveled state eating breakfast in the dining room. “I see that I am not the only one to have slept fitfully last night.”
The Haunted Knight 0f Lady Canterley Page 5
