He had to be brave. He had to find out who these men were, so Cord could stop the kidnapping. He couldn’t let anything happen to Hen’s baby. She was over the moon when he visited her—crying and laughing with the baby in her arms.
No, he couldn’t run home like a ninny hammer. His brother and sister were English spies. And he was a Harcourt, and a Harcourt would never run from the French.
He dropped to his knees, ready to crawl. He pointed at Gus to stay. Gus with his wide, round body and protuberant belly, had little idea of stealth and no ability to move undetected.
Gus sat with his ears and head up and his body tense, recognizing this was no game of hide-and-seek. Gus was the one who found Edward after he was abducted and tied to a tree in the woods. If anything happened this time, Gus would rescue him again. Edward had no doubts about his dog’s courage.
On all fours, his hands and knees sinking into the wet mud, he crawled slowly along the ravine toward the men. His heart pounded and reverberated in his ears. He held his breath as he carefully picked his way around the low-lying wild gooseberry and blueberry bushes.
“What did the English bitch have?”
“I beg you for mercy. Please, monsieur. You must have a sister. Please spare mine.”
There was a rustle of sound. And Edward imagined the rough man twisting the other man’s arm into submission. “Tell me. Is it a boy?”
Defeat filled the response. “Yes, monsieur. It is a boy.”
“This is perfect.” The man chuckled. “The minister will be pleased.”
Edward’s heart and mind sprinted. What French minister? Cord would know.
“In two nights, you and your sister will bring me the baby. Otherwise, your sister will suffer in ways you don’t want to contemplate.” He laughed like a maniac.
“Take me instead. Take me back to the prison, but spare my mother and sister.”
Edward froze. Take him back to prison? Who at Rathbourne house had been in prison?
Edward creeped closer, aware of the ravine, straining for a glimpse of the men through the trees. His sister and her baby were in danger. He had to expose the traitor at Rathbourne house.
“You and your sister will bring the baby to the hut. Or I will kill you both.”
Edward slowly crept closer to the men who stood in a clearing in the woods.
“Did you hear a noise?”
Edward halted, his heart rushing like the river below him.
“You were followed. Someone is out there. Find him.”
The fear of discovery made Edward startle abruptly. He couldn’t stop the fall when his hands and knees slipped on the unstable, muddy slope.
Chapter Seven
Derrick rushed down the front steps to organize the search. The sun was breaking through the heavy clouds, and there was a lull in the rain. But for how long? Clearly a young boy wouldn’t stay out all night in the rain as a prank, but he understood Cord’s reasoning, based on Edward’s history of shenanigans, to not jump to the conclusion that the disappearance indicated a subversive plot.
Derrick’s queries with the staff unearthed no clues. The footmen and guards had remained at their posts through the night, and saw nothing suspicious.
As he headed to the stables to continue his questioning, a familiar coach arrived in front of the estate.
Of all the blasted luck. If he hadn’t spent the time interviewing the staff, he could have avoided Amelia. He cursed upside and down under his breath. Tomorrow was her wedding day. Didn’t she have wedding details to attend to? She should be enjoying all the folderol attendant on a wedding, not being involved with tracking down a missing boy. She was already exhausted from worrying about her friend’s birth, and she didn’t need the added stress of Edward’s disappearance.
Derrick descended to assist his beloved, who peered out the window at him, down from the carriage. She was already smiling widely on seeing him. Dressed in a bright purple dress that clung to all her curves, with a sassy purple hat perched on the side of her head, she totally looked her part as a young, beautiful society woman free of cares. “Darling, where are you off to with such a scowl?”
Her eyes were bright and her voice cheerful—unlike him, she didn’t show the strain from yesterday’s long hours. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes were shining with love, and he felt like a clod to regret seeing her.
“Lady Henrietta hasn’t awoken yet. You should return later.”
The light in Amelia’s eyes dimmed with his curt tone.
And to make matters worse, Pierpont climbed out of the carriage after Amelia. The greasy Frenchman with his pomaded blond hair did his usual perusal of Derrick’s dark morning coat and tan riding breeches. His thick lips puckered in disapproval. Did the flamboyant man know his name translated to “under the bridge.” Not a fitting name for a man who prided himself on his own importance.
“I have no intention of bothering Hen,” Amelia said quietly.
“Of course not. I wasn’t… Then why are you not at home resting?”
“Pierpont and I are here to meet with the Rathbourne gardener. I’m sure I told you we are using flowers from both our hothouse and the Rathbournes’, since I want the ballroom to be overflowing with lovely, fragrant bouquets.”
He heard Pisspot’s disapproving tut behind him. Derrick turned and glared at the thin, wiry man. Besides, he didn’t like having the Frenchman behind him and out of sight. For a brief second, Derrick glimpsed a veiled, hostile look before Pierpont reverted to his usual exaggerated dandy manner, straightening his morning coat with his pinkies outthrust. Everything about the man put Derrick on edge.
“Pierpont, you may go ahead. I will escort Miss Bonnington.” Derrick didn’t want Pierpont listening to every word of his conversation with Amelia.
Pierpont raised his painted eyebrows before climbing the stairs to where a footman held the door open.
Derrick smiled down at his lovely bride, whose eyes had narrowed on his face. “I’m sorry I forgot about the flowers and your plans for today.”
“You have far more important matters to worry about than flowers.” Although she sounded like the usual animated Amelia, she didn’t return his smile.
Derrick didn’t know how to respond to Amelia’s lack of sunny enthusiasm. It was so rare. And how was he lucky enough to attract such an amiable bride when he was known for his surly ways? He offered her his arm to escort her up the stairs.
“What is wrong, Derrick? Something is amiss.”
Derrick struggled with how much to tell Amelia, knowing how deeply she cared for Edward, and how distressed she would become. But if he kept Edward’s disappearance from her, she would be hurt and furious.
She stopped abruptly in the massive entranceway. “Derrick, what is it?”
“I must talk with you.” Derrick nodded to the footman, and then guided Amelia to a side room while searching for the right words to lessen the shock.
“Now you’re scaring me.” Amelia’s voice quivered.
He wanted to take her into his arms and reassure her. He wished he didn’t have to deliver the news that would shatter her cheerful mood.
Amelia released his arm and turned toward him. “Is Henrietta ill? Is it Charles?”
He closed the door behind him. “Lady Henrietta is quite well, as is little Charles.”
She inspected his face, staring into his eyes. “You’re changing your mind about the wedding?”
“What? Of all the idiotic ideas!” He didn’t mean to sound so sharp, but honestly, how could she even consider such a ridiculous possibility? “Of course not. Why would you think such a crazy thing?”
Amelia searched his face. “Because you’re behaving as if doomsday has arrived, gloomy and downright menacing.”
“Don’t you know how much I love you?” he shouted.
A bright smile replaced her pinched lips. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him, pressing against him. “I was afraid you decided to not marry and ha
ve babies with me, after how awful it was last night. It was frightening enough to make a man rethink marriage.”
This wasn’t the time to discuss that after a sleepless night he had decided that they should wait to have children. He knew methods for preventing pregnancy. Although Amelia shone with happiness holding the tiny baby in her arms, she wasn’t ready for pregnancy. If he was honest, he wasn’t ready either.
He tightened his hold on her. He could never chance losing her. She was his light, shining just for him.
He tweaked her pert nose. “You might regret marrying me once you find out that I snore.”
“Do you snore?” The teasing lilt in her voice forced him to steal a kiss from her soft, beckoning lips.
“I might.”
She kissed him back unreservedly, opening her mouth to him, and he accepted the irresistible invitation. His tongue savored the sweet flavor of Amelia. He wanted more than a taste. Her soft breasts crushed against him, and her little gasps of breath weren’t helping his resolve. He had to stop before getting started.
He released his hold. “Darling, I do have upsetting news. It might be better if you sit down.” He took her arm and led her to the settee.
Amelia pulled away. “Derrick, I’m not the type of woman to faint. Please tell me. This mysterious manner of yours is frightening me.”
“Edward has gone missing.”
She shook her head. “Pish-posh. Edward is up to his usual antics. If I know Edward, he was up early, and when no one was about, he decided to go off on an adventure without Mr. Marlowe. Edward becomes bored very easily.”
She knew Edward well, as demonstrated yesterday during the cricket practice—Amelia bossed and mothered him exactly as she did her younger brothers.
She straightened her hat, which had been knocked askew by his embrace. “That is the news that has you treating me gingerly, like a frail flower?” Amelia laughed.
Derrick wished he didn’t have to upset Amelia. “I’m hoping you’re right. But his bed wasn’t slept in, and he and Gus missed breakfast.”
“His bed wasn’t slept in?” Amelia paced in the small waiting room. “Edward and Gus never miss a meal.”
Amelia stopped at the window overlooking the front of the estate. “Has Cord or Michael searched for him?”
“We’ve sent a message to Kendal, and when I saw your coach, I was on my way to the stables to gather the men for the search.”
When he saw her concern, his resolution to leave her behind weakened.
“I must come with you.”
Derrick had prepared himself for Amelia’s demand, but he still had to try to prevent her from participating in a wet, muddy search that might end up with a disastrous outcome.
“How far do you think you can go dressed in that gown? The paths and woods will be muddy. And you wouldn’t want to slow the men down.”
Amelia’s light eyes flashed. He had only seen that heated look when she was in her competitive, I-will-win mode of playing cricket.
“I’ll wear my cricket dress. I have one here in case of an impromptu game. Must I remind you that I’m very fit, and will not be the one to slow the men down?”
Derrick hadn’t considered that Amelia’s special dress was at Rathbourne House. The outfit was designed like pantaloons, giving her fast and easy movement, in addition to hugging her irresistible derriere.
His jaw tightened in frustration. She was going to go parade herself in front of all the guards. He didn’t like to think of himself as possessive, but when it came to Amelia, he couldn’t seem to stifle his primitive instincts. “What if it rains? You’ll get soaking wet right before our wedding. You don’t want to be ill.”
“Of all the asinine arguments.” She flung her arms into the air. “Edward is missing.”
“Are you suggesting my concern for you and your health is asinine?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” She tried to suppress the smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. “Well, kind of.” Amelia’s eyes danced in amusement, and he was bewitched. He was going to lose a lot of arguments with his appealing wife-to-be, and the idea didn’t unsettle him in the least.
“Derrick, be reasonable. You must see that finding Edward has to be the priority. If anything happened to him… Oh, bollocks. You haven’t told Hen, have you? We must keep it from her. I’ll speak to Mrs. Brompton.”
“Cord has already spoken to the Bromptons. No one plans to inform Lady Henrietta until after we find Edward.”
“We need to contact Gwyneth. She’ll know all the best hiding places on the estate.” Amelia paced back and forth like a colt confined to its pen. “You’re not suspecting a French threat, are you? You haven’t forgotten that Edward was abducted by the French to force Hen to surrender a code book.”
He respected Amelia’s reasoning. It would be easy to misjudge her intelligence because of her obsession with fashion and art. “Not yet. We’re all treating it as a possible prank.” He didn’t include a prank that had possibly gone wrong, very wrong.
The color washed out of Amelia’s face. “Why would the French want Edward? He is only a boy.”
Derrick chose not to mention that he was the brother of England’s top code breakers.
Amelia took a deep breath. “I’m going upstairs to change my clothes. I’ll meet you at the stable to begin the search with the men. I refuse to not help. Edward trusts me, and I must find him for Hen. She would absolutely do the same if Colin or Drew were missing.”
He pulled her back into his arms. “I had hoped to talk you out of this, but I understand. I wouldn’t be able to wait either. You must promise me you will stay by my side. And if I perceive there is danger, you’ll listen to me.”
“But what kind of danger could we possibly confront on the Rathbourne estate?”
He tipped her chin up with one finger and stared into her eyes. “Promise me.”
Chapter Eight
Amelia trudged through the mud positioned between Derrick and an oversized man she had never before seen on Rathbourne estate. The red, puckered scar across his cheek spoke of a military past, so he must be one of the many unseen guards who were on the grounds watching for intruders.
A youth, as burly as the other guard, walked ahead, his rifle at the ready.
A feeling of panic enveloped her. Men with rifles searching for sweet Edward. How could this day of promise have turned so quickly into a disaster?
It was not how she imagined she’d spend the day before her wedding. Her preoccupation with every detail—such as whether the shade of the roses matched the table covering and ballroom wall fabric—had become insignificant, overshadowed by her worry for Edward.
She and the men took turns shouting for Edward and Gus. Except to shout Edward’s name, Derrick had remained silent since she proposed they look for the boy at the gamekeeper’s hut.
After all his resistance to her participation, she couldn’t believe how readily he agreed to her suggestion. A man of few words, like her father, Derrick had responded by saying only, “Makes sense.”
When she arrived at the stables, Derrick had inspected her from her hair pulled up into a topknot to her half boots. The way his gaze lingered on her thighs had brought a burn to her cheeks and butterflies to her stomach. And the way he glared at the men accompanying them was downright embarrassing. Her cricket dress covered more than any dress a lady of fashion wore.
And though she was already wearing a cloak, he took off his and wrapped it around her while whispering, “Only I get to stare at your sweet bottom.” When he tied the cord around her throat, he promised, “And tomorrow night, I plan to do more than stare.”
She looked up at the man who walked next to her silently, his jutting, hard jaw speckled with unshaven stubble. This striking man could make her heart riot with one glance. He obviously hadn’t taken the time to shave this morning, and she wanted to rub her hand along the dark bristles, kiss the tender skin along his pale throat, and kiss down his wide, muscular chest.
Derrick felt her gaze. He looked down, his black eyes probing hers.
Heat immediately shot to her face at being caught daydreaming about her handsome, rugged husband-to-be.
Derrick’s eyes darkened while he watched the blush spread across her face. He grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming. The blasted man rarely smiled, but was now reading her mind and enjoying her embarrassment.
Well, two could play the game. Taking a very long time, she slowly licked her lips, and enjoyed watching his body tighten before he took an audible breath.
He bent close and whispered, “You’re playing a very dangerous game.”
Pleasurable expectation for her wedding night surged through her until one of the men startled her with his shout of Edward’s name. How could she have so easily forgotten the reason for their presence in the woods?
Guilty for her moment of distraction, she shouted, her voice pinching in desperation. “Edward! Gus!”
Derrick took her arm and tugged her close to his side. “Not how I wanted you to spend the day before our wedding. We’re going to find him. I promise.”
Amelia appreciated Derrick’s assurance. If there was any man strong and smart enough to find Edward, it was Derrick. But what if the French had taken Edward away from the estate?
“How much farther to the gamekeeper’s hut?” Derrick asked.
She released her breath and focused on the task ahead. “If I’m not mistaken, it is right around the corner. The hut is at the river’s edge, and there is a narrow path along the ravine to take us down there.”
She wasn’t definite about the exact turn in the trail. When she had come with the boys, there were no somber men with guns, no threat of the French, only play, frolicking, and enjoyment. But now…her heart drummed a thunderous beat, and fear lodged in her throat.
Hours before she was worried that the cut of her ball gown was too bold for a new bride. Now it seemed silly. Was she a shallow woman after all, like the many society women who only cared about their pleasure and their appearances?
A Wedding Code Page 5