Sarah sat there a moment, digesting Diana’s suggestion that she merely couldn’t see the truth. There was a hope that flared in her chest at the thought. Dangerous hope that could only lead to more pain if it was proven unfounded in the future.
“You think he…cares?” she asked, unable to ask for more.
“I do,” Diana said gently. “I see him watch you. I see him come to you for comfort in his fear or his grief, even when he has his brothers around him. It’s still you he seeks in those worst moments.”
Sarah considered that. She’d thought that Kit had begun turning to her because they shared the loss of a parent they’d loved. But she knew several of his friends had loved their fathers, their mothers.
“I suppose it is…something that he would want my advice or solace,” she said.
Diana nodded. “Is this ideal, this marriage in haste to protect Phoebe? Of course not. But it is not the end of the story. It is only the beginning.”
“I hope so,” Sarah breathed as some of her anxiety dissipated and it felt like she could draw a full breath again. “I truly do.”
Diana tilted her head. “Because you love him.”
Sarah ducked her gaze away. She hadn’t said those words out loud, not even to Isabel, who she loved like a sister. It had felt too dangerous. But now she couldn’t deny her heart.
“Yes. I do love him.”
Diana smiled. “Then the best advice I can give you is to keep fighting for that love. It is worth it in the end. So don’t give up.”
Diana squeezed her hand, then got up and moved toward the adjoining room. “Phoebe, come and look at how pretty Sarah looks. Do you think this will make a lovely wedding dress?”
Sarah stood and smiled as Phoebe set aside her dolls and came in to look at her with wide, excited eyes. But even as the two cooed and giggled over her, she couldn’t help but think about what Diana had said.
It was time to fight for what she wanted. Fight for Kit. Fight for Phoebe. Fight for the family she wanted and the life she deserved when the drama had passed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sarah had no idea what Kit had said to the magistrate or how much he’d paid the man, but when he’d returned the night before, he had come with a special license. And now as late morning of the next day spread surprisingly warm sunshine across the long path leading from the garden, Sarah had to adjust to the idea that tomorrow she would be Duchess of Kingsacre.
Kit’s wife.
It wasn’t that much had changed otherwise. She was still sleeping in the governess’s chamber, mostly because she had her things there and it seemed silly to make someone move all of it not once, but twice in such short order.
So life remained much the same. Except that Kit stared at her far more intently, and when he’d kissed her goodnight it had contained so much more promise than ever before.
She smiled at the thought and then forced herself to focus on the matters at hand. She and Phoebe were taking a walk around the property, given permission to do so after Lucas had reported it appeared Hannah Beckett had departed the shire directly after their unpleasant encounter the day before. Sarah was under no illusion that the woman was finished with whatever her plans required, but at least she could breathe easier knowing Hannah was no longer around at present.
“How many butterflies are there, Sarah?” Phoebe called out as she leapt ahead of Sarah on the path and chased one of said butterflies.
“Types or total number?”
“Both!” Phoebe squealed, and bounded after the fluttering bug as it dipped and swirled out of her grasp.
Sarah laughed, troubles and worries fading as she trailed behind her charge a few steps. They rounded the path toward the woods at the edge of the maintained part of the estate, and suddenly a man was in their path.
Sarah’s heart was immediately in her throat as Phoebe came up short in front of him. He was huge, more than six and a half feet tall, and thickly built. His shoulders seemed impossibly wide and he had a scar across his lip that disappeared into the folds of his stout neck.
She didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t one of Kit’s servants, nor was he a tenant or a resident of Kingsacre Village two miles from the estate.
“Phoebe, come here,” she called out.
Phoebe was still frozen, staring up into the man’s harsh face. She took a step back from him and he lunged, catching her by her waist and smiling back at Sarah before he pivoted and started lumbering away toward the tree line.
Phoebe screeched in his arms, twisting and kicking at him. Of course, that was like a gnat nipping at a horse. He didn’t even seem to notice it as he continued on his way.
Sarah let out a cry and hurtled after them. She leapt up, catching the man around the neck from behind. She stuck her fingers into his nostrils and yanked, hauling his head back as she screamed, “Let her go! You let her go right now!”
He yelped in pain and dropped Phoebe. The little girl bounced on her backside and then scurried up and away from Sarah and the stranger.
“Run!” Sarah screamed as their attacker clawed to get her off his back. “Run to Kit now! Run!”
For a moment, Phoebe hesitated, her blue dark eyes wide and filled with tears. Then she did as she’d been told and raced toward the house in the distance, screaming her brother’s name the whole way.
The stranger grunted in displeasure as he tossed Sarah away from him. She hit the ground hard, her wind knocked out of her lungs. For a moment, she stared up at him, dazed, and watched as he turned toward where Phoebe had gone. He was going to chase her. And if Sarah didn’t stop him, he would catch her.
She flung herself forward, catching his ankles with both arms and hanging on tight. He staggered and went down, his big body jostling her.
He glared down at her and then back down the path. Phoebe had disappeared around the bend in the road, and neither could see her anymore.
“Stupid bitch,” he grunted, then pulled one leg free and kicked Sarah hard in the face.
She blinked as stars appeared before her eyes and the world began to swim. The blurry image of her attacker got to his feet. He stared down at her a moment, though he was anything but clear with her mind turning. Then she felt herself being lifted. He slung her over his shoulder and carried her toward the trees, just as he’d done with Phoebe.
Her slipper fell from her foot as he carried her, but he ignored it. She watched it as it got farther and farther away. Kit would find it there later. He would see where she was taken. Her bleary mind screamed at her to think. To think of that slipper. And to leave a trail.
So she kicked off her other slipper to do just that, as she did her best to stay awake.
Kit stood at his study window, staring out at the garden behind the house. Diana and Lucas were behind him, going over the journals they’d brought in from the library.
“Hannah was truly a master manipulator,” Diana breathed as she glanced over Lucas’s shoulder. “I would not doubt that the woman is up to her neck in other crimes.”
Kit grunted. “Nor would I, though that gives me no pleasure. Her mind is twisted and right now it is focused on my sister. How can I—”
He broke off, for in the distance, he saw something. He leaned closer to the glass and squinted. That looked like…Phoebe. Phoebe running toward the house. Alone.
“No,” he murmured, and turned to race out of the room.
“What is it?” Lucas asked as he and Diana followed. Kit ignored them as he burst from the first room that connected to the terrace and then along the rock parapet to the stairs to the garden.
“What is it?” Diana repeated.
“My sister,” Kit panted as they ran together through the garden. As they cleared the fancifully trimmed bushes onto the wide lawn beyond, Phoebe saw them.
“Kit!” she screamed, her voice weak from running and her face red from exertion.
“Phoebe!” he called back, and they collided in the middle.
He fell to the ground with her panting in his lap. She looked petrified and exhausted. “What is it? What happened? Where is Sarah?”
“A man,” Phoebe sobbed. “He was in the path. He tried to take me. Sarah jumped on him.”
Kit shook his head. “Sarah…”
“She told me to run,” Phoebe choked, her sobs hitching her breath. “I ran as fast as I could.”
“You did wonderfully, sweetling,” Diana soothed, taking her from Kit’s arms gently. “You must have been so afraid.”
As Kit got up, Lucas exchanged a look with him. “Hannah left. All my sources said so.”
“Well, all your sources were obviously wrong,” Kit barked. “There is no way this isn’t related. We have to go now. We have to find Sarah.”
“I agree,” Diana said. “I will take Phoebe up to the house, make sure she isn’t harmed. And I’ll send for the magistrate and as many men as the village and household can spare.”
“Thank you,” Kit called over his shoulder before he and Lucas started down the path from where his sister had appeared. “I don’t even have a weapon.”
“I do,” Lucas said, pulling a small pistol from his boot.
Kit shot him a side glance as they ran. “Always?”
“Always,” Lucas said. “Now, you must listen. We have no idea what we are walking into. You cannot let your emotions overtake you. You must remain calm, do you understand me? It’s the best thing you can do for Sarah.”
Kit’s stomach turned. The kind of man who would attack and try to abduct a child was the kind of man who could do anything. And Sarah was in terrible danger. He’d already nearly lost her once at the lake. The very idea that he could lose her again, this time permanently, made his blood run cold. She was his future. His life.
He loved her. And he knew that and he hated himself for not telling her earlier. For not listening to Lucas and Diana’s advice and not letting the confusion of recent events keep him from giving Sarah everything she deserved, including his heart.
Why had he waited so damned long?
“Stop thinking of regrets,” Lucas snapped. “You must focus. For her.”
“For her,” Kit repeated.
They ran for what felt like an eternity, then careened around the corner in the path, and he stopped. In the distance, there was a slipper in the middle of the road.
“Sarah!” he screamed out.
He and Lucas rushed to the shoe and Kit snatched it from the ground. “It’s hers,” Kit breathed as he clutched it.
Lucas pursed his lips and took it from him. He turned it over looking at it closely. “There’s a little blood on it,” he said. “Hers or the attacker’s, I don’t know. But since she isn’t here, we must assume she was taken. It took us a quarter of an hour to get here. It could have taken Phoebe half an hour to get back. So this man, whoever he was and whatever his purpose, might have as much as a forty-five-minute head start. He could have gone anywhere.”
Lucas looked around, and as he did so, Kit jolted. “There’s another shoe,” he said, pointing to the edge of the woods. They rushed to it together, and Lucas smiled.
“Clever girl,” he said. “She’s making a path for us. And there are footprints here, too. Big and fresh.” He knelt and looked at the imprint in the soil. “Very big. We must be prepared.”
He pulled out a handful of bright ribbon from his pocket and tied one to a branch. Kit shifted, ready to go, and stared. “What is that?”
“Diana will bring the men once Phoebe is settled and they can be roused. This is how she will find us. Now let’s go.”
Kit shook his head as he followed Lucas along the trail the kidnapper had unwittingly created. “So you just carry that around?”
Lucas glanced at him over his shoulder. “You asked if we’re still spies. There’s your answer. Focus, Kit. Sarah may need you.”
His stomach dropped as his mind trailed off on stories of what horrors Sarah might be experiencing at the hands of her attacker. He could only hope she would reveal that she was engaged quickly. If the bastard thought she had value to Kit, as much as his sister, he might not hurt her.
Kit could only pray that would be true. And that he would reach her in time to tell her everything that was in his heart.
Sarah’s mind was finally beginning to clear as the ogre who had taken her stepped into a clearing at the far end of the property and unceremoniously dropped her into the clover. She winced as she hit the ground and glared up at him.
He paced away and she scrambled to get up and run, but found herself staring down the barrel of a rifle that was being held by Hannah Beckett. The woman glared at her, then at her attacker.
“Damn it, Tooney, where’s the girl? You were supposed to take the girl, not this one.”
“I knew it,” Sarah breathed with a shake of her head. “I knew this was your doing. You would really send this monster after your own child?”
“Shut up,” Hannah ordered, pressing the rifle closer to her face. “You don’t want to cross me—it’s not a good day. Tooney, tie her up.”
The big man grunted and then swept up a rope that was in the middle of the clearing. He bent and wrapped it around Sarah’s wrists, pulling it so tight that she almost immediately lost feeling in her fingers.
“What was your plan?” Sarah said, ignoring the order for silence. “To tie up a five-year-old little girl? Do you know how terrified she was when this bastard grabbed her?”
“So you did follow orders,” Hannah barked at her partner. “Idiot. Why did you let her go?”
“This one jumped on me,” he grunted. “Stupid bitch grabbed me and the little one got away. So I took her.”
Hannah let out a long sigh. “She’s the governess, so it’s possible Kit won’t trade anything of value for her.” She leaned a little closer. “Though I think we both know there’s more you’re serving to His Grace than help with my daughter. So maybe he’ll want to bring her back whole.”
“So same plan then?” Tooney asked.
Hannah shrugged. “Same plan. Go ready the rig and I’ll stay with her.”
Sarah’s head throbbed as she stared up at Hannah. She hated this woman down to her very core, but that dark emotion was not going to be of any help in her current circumstances. Phoebe had run for Kit, and Kit would bring help to search for her. She knew that. So her best bet was to try to stall Hannah. To keep her from following through with whatever she had in mind, or taking Sarah to another place where she couldn’t leave a trace so Kit could find her.
“Your daughter is brilliant,” she said softly, watching Hannah’s face for any reaction.
There was only the barest twitch to her cheek, but it was enough to let Sarah know that Phoebe did mean something to her. Not enough, but there was a tiny piece of her that gave a damn.
“She reads very well,” Sarah continued, “and is curious about the world. Do you really want to separate her from the only family she’s known?”
Hannah pivoted on her, the gun shaking slightly. Sarah flinched, for one wrong move and it would fire and this would be over. Everything would be over.
“I don’t want the girl,” Hannah snapped. “She’d only be in my way, and if you think I’d let a child around that one—” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward where Tooney had left. “—you’re mistaken. I just want my money. And if I get it from Kit wanting you or his wanting her, doesn’t matter one bit to me.”
Sarah shook her head in disbelief at the dismissiveness, her heart hurting for Phoebe. This woman was her mother. “Do you really not care about her at all?”
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know what brought you to service, but it’s clear you didn’t start there. You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. You don’t know what you’d be willing to do and say and trade to survive. I don’t have time to care about Penelope.”
Sarah blinked. “Phoebe,” she corrected softly. “Her name is Phoebe.”
&nb
sp; Hannah’s face remained stone. “Doesn’t matter. She isn’t mine, is she? Never has been. But if you stay good, if you do what I say, you’ll get to go back to her.” She looked away. “You seem like a better mother for her, anyway.”
Sarah stared at her. She had no idea what to think of this dreadful person, the kind of woman who could suppress all her love for her own daughter.
And yet that was her only bartering chip.
“She lost her father less than a month ago,” Sarah said softly. “And was upset by an accident soon after. Please, don’t take me away. Not for myself, not for Kit. For her. She would be devastated if she suffered that kind of loss.”
Hannah walked away, seemingly unmoved, and Sarah wiggled her fingers to try to get feeling back into them. It was a test of the knot at her wrists, too, but it didn’t budge. She was helpless here, locked in the trap of two mercenaries whose intentions and limits she couldn’t begin to guess.
She could only hope Kit came. And soon.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Whatever preparations the lumbering Mr. Tooney was making, it was another quarter of an hour before he reappeared at the edge of the clearing. He was running, his round face sweaty and upset.
“They’re coming,” he grunted. “I saw ’em from the ridge. Two men, one of ’em that duke. I dunnow t’other.”
Hannah had taken a seat on the grass and she staggered to her feet, rifle in hand. “What? No! Not so soon.”
“They must have found our trail,” Tooney said with a shrug. “What am I supposed to do?”
The two stared at each other a moment, then Tooney pivoted toward Sarah as he pulled a pistol from the inside pocket of his worn jacket. “I say we kill her.”
Sarah dug her heels into the ground and pushed back, as if moving away would help. There was no way to stop this man from shooting her, and that realization made her blood pump into her ears as time slowed to a horrifying length.
The Last Duke (The 1797 Club Book 10) Page 20