Leonard hung his head shamefully. Percival was right. If Cooke learned that he was suspected, he might do something untoward. Their best course of action was simply to pay the ransom, distraction or not.
“Someone must go for David,” Leonard insisted. “I fear he might react badly in his present state.”
“I will go for my son,” Percival announced. “We will return to Brookside and you and I will go for Elizabeth together.”
“Good,” Catherine sighed, appearing very relieved that there would be no more running about for the time being. Yet if his sister was comforted, Leonard only felt his anxiety mounting. He waited until Percival was out of earshot, off to collect David from his post before speaking again.
“The hour is early,” he told Herbert and Catherine. “There is time to check the mill and see if Elizabeth is being held there.”
Catherine stared at him, her face contorted into a mixture of pity and contempt.
“Leo, when have you last slept?” she asked softly. “You are growing deranged in your exhaustion.”
“Sleep?” he snapped. “How am I to sleep when Elizabeth is God knows where?”
“You are making little sense, Leo,” Catherine chided him gently. “Surely the highwaymen would not alert you to the place where they have kept her. That would be inane. They would have to know that is the first place you would go to look for her. They have been one step ahead of us this entire exhausting situation. I assure you, they would not easily tell you where to find Elizabeth.”
Leonard loathed to admit she was right. His eyes burned and he longed for it all to be over, for Elizabeth to be safe again.
“The best we can do now is wait,” Herbert agreed, the heaviness in his voice nearly tangible. “I do abhor to say it, Your Grace.”
“Come inside, men,” Catherine instructed. “Beatrice has made you a meal. You must keep up your strength now. You will do no one an iota of good if you weaken yourselves.”
“I must check on Miss Follett,” Herbert sighed and Leonard remembered what the barrister had said about her being at her wits’ end.
“No, Herbert,” Catherine told him firmly. “You will eat. I will tend to Frances. You, also, have been running yourself ragged.”
Leonard peered closely at the barrister and realized how terrible the older man appeared.
“My word, Herbert, you seem ready to drop,” Leonard choked. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts and worries, he had neglected to care for the rest of his household. Yet as he peered at his sister, he saw she was also suffering the effects of the past days.
“We will all eat together when the men arrive back from the Cooke’s estate,” Leonard said firmly. “You and Herbert will wait for me in the front salon. I will tend to Frances.”
“Leo, you must—”
“I insist!” Leonard barked, some shame gripping his gut. He was the Duke—his duty was to his family and the duchy, and he had quite nearly failed everyone, including Elizabeth. Not once had he paid a visit to Frances, despite her fragile state. He had been so consumed with running amok that he had neglected her.
“All right, Leo,” Catherine relented but Herbert did not seem so certain. “Come along, Herbert.”
“Your Grace, I do not think—” the barrister began to protest but Leonard was having none of it. The time for arguments and bickering was done.
“No one asked you to think, Herbert. Those are my instructions. I will see if Frances will join us.”
He paused, his lips parted as he considered his next words.
“She will not,” Herbert managed to say. “She has not come from her room since the night of the gala.”
Herbert was quite certain but Leonard had to try even though he knew the barrister spoke the truth. Catherine was correct—strength was needed and there was no greater strength than in the family being together.
Leonard did not bother to answer Herbert’s cynical comment but instead moved indoors as the afternoon sun faded into twilight. There were hours left until the ransom drop and Leonard wanted everyone to be together. No more harebrained confrontations, no more arguments or schemes. Until it was time to leave for the drop, Leonard wanted there to be nothing but as much calm as they could manage under the circumstances.
We will eat, rest and approach the kidnappers with a clear mind. Only then can we ensure that Elizabeth is returned to us safely. If we continue to unravel, bickering and squabbling amongst ourselves, we only weaken ourselves.
Leonard stole up the servant’s stairs toward Frances’ quarters, his guilt mounting. He hadn’t a clue what he was going to say to the oldest Follett sibling but he knew he had purposely avoided her since that terrible night, knowing he was ill-prepared to deal with her fits of frustration.
Elizabeth would be ashamed to know I have not been there for Frances.
He rapped on the heavy wooden door, leaning his head close to detect sound from inside.
“Herbert?” came the plaintive cry. “Is that you?”
“No, Frances. It is the Duke. May I enter?”
There was a deep silence and Leonard waited patiently but after a few moments, she did not appear. He knocked on the door again.
“Frances?”
“Go away!”
The intensity of her anger troubled him and Leonard stood in the corridor, confused.
“Frances, please. I know you are angry with me because I have not come to see you but I assure you, I have been completely focussed on getting Elizabeth home safely.”
Without warning, the door swung inward and Leonard was shocked at what he saw. Frances was a fright, her long, chestnut hair matted and unwashed, her hazel eyes haunted and encircled in black. She fit the pattern of everyone else in the household, to lay unsleeping, and taking leave of her faculties more with each passing minute.
“I do not care about your visits!” she hissed. “I know what you have done!”
Leonard gaped at the woman as she backed away from the door, dressed only in her undergarments, which he was certain she had not changed in days. She appeared a feral animal, prowling about her vast chambers, casting him furious looks.
“What have I done?” he asked uncomprehendingly as he remained in the doorway. He was unsure if she had a propensity for violence but in that moment, he was certain she would strike him.
“You!” she spat. “You called us from the gala! It is your fault that Liza has been taken! You have arranged for this to happen!”
“I, I haven’t a clue what you mean,” Leonard told her, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing in consternation. “Frances, do look at me and tell me what the meaning of this is.”
“You know what you did!” she yelled at him. “This is your fault! Your fault! Your fault! Your fault!”
On and on she continued to chant, spinning to point a finger whose nail had been bitten to the quick.
“Your Grace,” Herbert called urgently from the hall. “You must leave her before she loses all control. If she does…”
Leonard did not need for him to finish the thought—he vividly recalled how upset Frances had become after the encounter with Priscilla. She was twice as agitated as she had been on that day. Reluctantly, Leonard backed out of the apartment and permitted Herbert inside.
“There, there, Miss Follett,” the barrister murmured to her tenderly. “We have discussed this many times. His Grace did not have any part in Miss Elizabeth’s situation.”
“He did!” Frances screamed. “If he had not called us away from the gala none of this would have happened! He planned it! He did!”
“Herbert, what is she saying?” Leonard demanded. “I did not call them away.”
The older man gave the Duke a look to say it was not the time for such a discussion but Leonard knew he needed to understand what Frances meant. It was clear that the oldest Follett sibling would be of no help in the matter, not in her current state but Catherine might know. He rushed down to the main floor and confronted his sister.
“Why does Frances believe I called you away from the gala that night?” he asked without preamble. “She blames me for Elizabeth’s kidnapping.”
Catherine grunted softly and lowered her head, a blonde strand falling over cheek.
“I know,” she sighed. “It was what Elizabeth told her to keep her from having a fit when we left that night. She said that you had sent word and that we needed to return to Brookside at once.”
“Because of Miss Priscilla and Lord Cooke?”
“Yes,” Catherine replied. “It matters not what we tell her, Herbert and I. Her mind is not fully formed and she remains convinced you were a party to the kidnapping.”
“That is absurd! What possible benefit would I have to such an atrocious act?”
“She means no harm, Leo. She is scared for her sister and has the faculties of a small child. She cannot be faulted for her beliefs. Yet that is the reason Herbert has kept her mostly in her chambers. He knew she would confront you when she saw you.”
“Nonsense!” Leonard snapped. “She cannot be kept like a prisoner while she is suffering.”
A faint, wistful smile touched Catherine’s mouth and she shook her head.
“Herbert is keeping her entertained, I assure you. She is not locked in and she has shown little desire to leave the confines of her chambers. Her meals are brought to her. Herbert visits her often, reading to her and oftentimes simply talking her to sleep. He adores her and I daresay if not for him, I do not know how she would have fared. Even her father and brother do not provide her as much comfort. I believe that Frances fancies her chambers as a cocoon, not unalike the womb. She is coping the best way she knows how.”
Is that the blessing which came from this chaos? Frances and Herbert found love in a dismal place?
It was a bittersweet idea and one which Leonard sincerely hoped brought them happiness when Elizabeth was returned.
When Elizabeth is returned.
Suddenly, Leonard was struck by something which he had not thought of before.
“Jasper!” the Duke cried. “Jasper, of course!”
Catherine eyed him without understanding.
“The coachman? What of him?”
Excitement began to rush through Leonard, causing him a slight dizziness.
“You left the gala much earlier than expected,” he rushed on. “Barely after arriving.”
“Yes…”
“It defies logic that the kidnappers could have anticipated such an abrupt departure, that they were waiting on the road from the moment you arrived at the Smithersons. Surely they would have come back in cloak of darkness, expecting you to be at the party for a while.”
“What are you suggesting, Leo?”
“If this was enacted on behalf of Lord Cooke, Jasper may have seen more than he realized while he waited for you.”
“Lord Cooke did follow Elizabeth from the house,” Catherine remembered, her face paling at the memory. “Could he have signalled someone?”
They looked at one another for a long moment.
“We must speak to Jasper again!” they chorused in unison.
Chapter 27
“Your Grace, I fear there is nothing I can recall which will help you!” Jasper protested, his boyish face pale and worried. “I have told you all that I can remember.”
The bump he had incurred was still quite prominent on his head but the boy was back to working, despite his injuries.
“You must think harder,” Leonard urged him. “You must have seen someone following you, Lord Cooke nodding, perhaps? Giving a signal?”
Catherine squeezed his arm warningly. No one was to know about their suspicions about the Earl but Leonard was desperate to hear what the coachman night say.
“Lord Cooke?” Jasper echoed. “No, Your Grace, I swear it was not Lord Cooke—”
Abruptly, Jasper stopped speaking and Leonard looked at his sister.
“What was not Lord Cooke?” Catherine asked, instantly picking up on his gaffe. “Someone followed you? Someone gave a signal?”
Jasper shook his head miserably but he refused to meet their eyes, his complexion nearing opaque. Leonard lunged toward the boy and grabbed him by the threads of his thin shirt, yanking his face evenly upward so that they met eye-to-eye.
“You will tell me what you know, Jasper,” he spat. “Or you will rue the day your mother birthed you.”
“Leo…” Catherine said urgently but the Duke ignored her, his gaze locked on the boy.
“TELL ME!”
“Oh, Your Grace, I did not know they would take her!” Jasper blubbered, tears spilling from his eyes. “I swear on my life, I had no idea things would turn so quickly! If I had known…”
Jasper buried his face in his hands and his body shook with sobs. Hot and cold washed through Leonard simultaneously and he did not release the boy, despite Catherine’s pleadings.
“Leo, you must unhand him,” she begged. “He will do us no good if he does not speak.”
“He will speak,” Leonard hissed. “Will you not?”
“Yes!” Jasper squealed. “I will tell you what I know, Your Grace but you must believe me—”
“What is the meaning of this?” David cried, his horse stopping in the yard next to the trio. His father quickly followed suit, the two examining the scene with worry.
“Duke, what are you doing to that boy?” Percival demanded.
“He knows more about the night of the gala,” Catherine explained nervously. “Leo, please, put him down.”
It was only then that Leonard realized he held the boy in the air. Inhaling deeply, he dropped Jasper unceremoniously into a pile on the dirt but he did not step back.
“Out with it!” he insisted. “Or you will know fear, I promise you.”
“I was paid to stop the carriage,” Jasper whimpered. “The man, he…”
Jasper took a shuddering breath.
“They were only meant to rob the ladies. I did not know they were going to take her, Your Grace.”
“Oh Jasper,” Catherine moaned. “How could you permit this to happen? Elizabeth was so kind to you, to everyone! This is your home! We treat you well and you would set us up to be robbed?”
“Who was this man?” Leonard growled, not giving Jasper a change to apologize or explain himself. What was done, was done and there was nothing that could be changed about the past. All that mattered now was finding Elizabeth.
“Do you know him?” Leonard yelled. “Speak, Jasper!”
“I never met him before that night, Your Grace. He approached me after the ladies went inside. He gave me one pound and I was to stop outside the clearing on the road where he and his friend would be waiting.”
“You greedy, sneaky fool,” Percival howled. “How could you?”
“Go on,” Leonard insisted. “Tell me all of it.”
“They robbed the ladies, Your Grace, and when I thought it was over, the man who paid me…he hit me over the head and…and he laughed at me for being naïve. I begged them not to take Miss Elizabeth—”
“He did, Leo,” Catherine confirmed but that did nothing to sate Leonard’s rage. If not for Jasper, Elizabeth would never have been taken. It was plotted by a man on his own staff, a man he had paid, and clothed, and fed.
“Tell me about this man,” the Duke spat. “I want every detail you can recall and do not tell me you have told me everything.”
“I have told you everything I can recall about his face—both of them but they wore scarves. I saw so little. But, Your Grace, I did not tell you something I should have.”
“Well? Out with it!” everyone snapped in unison.
“His name.”
The group gaped at him.
“You know his name?” Percival choked. “He told you his name?”
Jasper shook his head.
“I heard the other man call him by his name—Cooper.”
“Is that his surname?”
“Is he the one who paid you?”
“I
s he the one who hit you?”
The questions filled the air like shots in the evening sky.
“Please, all I know is that Cooper is the more dangerous one. He is violent and I am grateful that Miss Elizabeth did not kick him in the face when she tried to escape for I fear she would not have long to live.”
Terror made it difficult for Leonard to breathe and he struggled to keep himself composed in the aftermath of what he had learned.
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