Abigail closed her eyes, hoping it wasn’t true. After all her efforts, surely she hadn’t failed to protect her family. She’d tried so hard to do everything possible to keep them safe, but now it seemed all for naught. She had to stay calm and think.
Now more than ever, she longed for Stephen’s assistance. He’d know what to do.
“When did you last see them?” Abigail asked Ponsford, forcing herself to reflect composure despite the panic roiling inside her.
“I checked on them shortly after you left. They were in their room reading.” Ponsford shook his head. “Then I went down to the kitchen to see to some things. I went up again about fifteen minutes ago and the room was empty. The other servants and I have been searching, but—”
The butler’s distress added to Abigail’s. Irene put her fingers to her lips, her breath coming out in shaky gasps.
“Were they speaking of anything earlier today?” Abigail asked, trying to remember herself. “Perhaps something they wanted to do that we didn’t allow them to?”
“They spoke of a gathering at one of their friend’s homes, but I told them no.” Irene looked at her with hope. “Do you think they could’ve gone anyway?”
“We’ll send a footman to inquire.” But Abigail didn’t believe that was the answer. The girls would never disobey something like that. “Is there anyone else they might’ve gone to visit?”
Irene shook her head. “No. But I haven’t been paying that close of attention with everything else going on.”
Abigail felt the heavy weight of guilt. “Nor have I.” In truth she should’ve, especially since the girls didn’t realize the possible danger they were in. That alone made them easy targets.
But now was not the time for self-recrimination. She had to determine some course of action, some way to find them.
A knock sounded at the door.
Dread seized Abigail. She rose from the settee as Ponsford hurried out of the drawing room to answer the door.
He returned a moment later, his eyes glittering with anger. “It’s Vincent Simmons. He wants to speak to you regarding the girls.”
Abigail closed her eyes for a brief moment, unable to believe this had come to pass. Then she looked at Irene, wanting to reassure her somehow. Yet how could she when things were so terribly wrong?
She moved toward the door.
“Wait.” Irene put her hand to her heart. “You must be careful. Do as he says and he’ll give the girls back to us.”
Abigail nodded, hoping it was true. She looked at Ponsford. “Send him in.”
“He requests that you to come to the door.”
With a deep breath, Abigail gathered her courage. She had to find some way to convince Simmons to return the girls.
The front door was shut. She felt Ponsford’s presence behind her but motioned for him to remain out of sight. She didn’t want anything to go wrong nor give Simmons a reason to do something reckless.
Please let him return the girls, she prayed. Then she opened the door. At first she saw nothing in the evening twilight.
“Shut the door behind ye.” A gruff voice came from the left and she stepped toward it, leaving a narrow crack in the door with hope that Ponsford could hear their conversation.
Simmons stepped out of the shadows, his brown eyes darting between her, the door, and the street behind him.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“A better question is who are ye missing?” he asked with a smirk.
Her heart stopped beating. She was sure of it. “Are my sisters safe?”
“For the moment. For them to stay that way, I need the rock.” He rolled onto the balls of his feet as though very pleased with himself.
“If you’d tell me which rock—”
“Come now. Ye know exactly what I’m looking for.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve been telling you that all along.” Irritation colored her tone.
“The one yer father got in India.”
Her father had traveled to India twice, the second time just months before his death. How had Simmons known that? What was so special about that particular stone? The only thing she remembered about her father’s trip was how happy she’d been when he’d come home.
Simmons scoffed with impatience. “Dark gray with light stripes, ‘bout so big.” He formed his hands in the size of a potato.
The description matched the one Stephen had taken. Fear made her heart pound even faster. Now what was she to do? How could she possibly explain to Simmons that she no longer had the stone he wanted? He’d think she was inventing excuses.
Nothing could be done but tell him the truth and hope he believed her.
She cleared her throat nervously. “I believe I know which one you mean. Unfortunately, I don’t have it at the moment.”
Simmons stiffened in surprise, his face tightening into a menacing scowl. “What do ye mean?”
“An...associate of mine has it.”
“Who?”
Abigail hesitated for only a moment before answering, “Lord Ashbury.”
Simmons cursed and spun away, muttering before at last turning back to her. “What did ye give it to him fer?”
“He asked to examine it in detail.”
He kicked the walkway in frustration.
Now was her chance to convince him to give up on this craziness. “Please return the girls to us. We can forget this ever happened.”
“No! I need the bloody rock!”
“What is so special about it that it’s worth returning to prison? Are you willing to hang for a rock?”
Simmons glowered as he reached into his jacket and withdrew his knife, then reached for her arm. “Yer coming with me.”
“Where?” Abigail’s breath caught as she backed away.
“To get the friggin’ rock! I’m not letting ye out of my sight until ye get it.” He tugged on her arm.
She balked, torn with indecision. The idea of going anywhere with the man who’d killed her father caused bile to rise in her throat.
But he had her sisters.
While she had no choice, that didn’t mean she had to do it on his terms. “I’ll ask Lord Ashbury to give it back. Bring the girls and I’ll trade you the rock for their safe return.”
“No! I don’t trust ye and I certainly don’t trust him. He’s to know nothing ’bout this.”
“I won’t tell him why I want it back. I—”
Simmons stepped closer, his knife inches from her face. “He’s already caused more problems than I can count. If ye think I trust either of ye any further than I could spit, ye’ve got another thing comin’. Tell anyone and it means the end for them girls. Now let’s go!”
“All right. Let me get my things and order the carriage.” She’d have to go with him. Anything to save Sophia and Olivia.
“We’ll take a hackney.” He pulled her forward.
“Wait! At least let me get my cloak.”
Simmons scowled. “Don’t go farther than the doorway. Stay where I can see ye.”
Abigail nodded and opened the door. Ponsford and her stepmother stood nearby, eyes wide with fright.
“It’s too dangerous, Abigail,” Irene whispered. “Don’t go with him.”
“She’s right, miss,” Ponsford agreed as he wrung his hands. “He can’t be trusted.”
“I have to get Sophia and Olivia.” Abigail spoke softly, hoping Simmons couldn’t hear her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Hurry up!” Simmons called from the steps.
Ponsford glared over her shoulder, his lips tightening. “Do be careful, miss. Here’s your cloak. You have everything else you need in your pocket, I believe.”
He raised a brow, and at last it dawned on her what he meant. She still had her father’s pistol in her pocket.
“Shall I alert a constable?” Ponsford murmured.
Abigail shook her head. “No. I don’t want to take any risks.”
“Come on,” Simmons demanded from jus
t outside.
Abigail gave Irene’s hand one last squeeze to give them both strength. “I’ll be back soon with Olivia and Sophia.”
Irene was too distraught to reply, her trembling fingers holding Abigail’s a moment longer, her tears wrenching Abigail’s heart.
Simmons grabbed Abigail’s arm. “Enough already.” He jerked her out into the darkness of the night. “Very touchin’, but we’ve got to hurry.”
Abigail pushed back her fear, praying she’d truly return soon, and that Sophia and Olivia would be with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“The carriage will be here shortly, my lord,” Winston told Stephen as he passed through the hall to the library.
“Thank you. If Weston arrives before I return, please give him an update.”
Stephen planned to visit Abigail and tell her everything. If she’d listen. He should’ve done so weeks ago. From the missing boys to the connection he suspected between them and Simmons—she needed to know all of it. Perhaps she’d learned something from her solicitor that might add to the growing pile of clues.
Somehow, he’d make her believe him despite how ridiculous it all sounded. Together, they could decide how best to proceed. Together, they could overcome whatever plan Simmons had devised.
Together...
His breath caught at the thought. The time he’d spent without her had shown him just how much he needed her. The image of those blue eyes filled with hurt and tears haunted him. He could only hope she’d forgive him and allow him another chance to show her—
“My lord!”
He turned as Markus burst into the room with Winston directly behind him.
“He’s got her!” the boy cried out. “Simmons has Miss Bradford and they’re on their way here. To get some rock!”
“What?” His stomach dropped to his knees. Christ, he was too late.
“He told her he has her sisters. Miss Sophia and Miss Olivia,” Markus said between pants. He bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Winston looked in askance at Stephen who nodded. “Let us see what he has to say.”
Stephen drew closer to the hall, motioning for Markus to remain hidden. But what he really wanted to do was throw open the front door, grab Simmons by the throat and choke the truth out of him.
“Greetings, Miss Bradford,” Winston said, his usual smile in place as though nothing was wrong.
“May I speak with Lord Ashbury, please?” Abigail’s voice sounded strained even at this distance.
“Good evening, Abigail.” Stephen stepped toward the door. “How nice to see you.”
“Stephen.” The way she said his name would’ve been enough to make him realize something was terribly wrong. But her muddy blue aura told it all. Fear was visible not only in the dim light around her head, but in every line of her face and body.
“Come inside. Please,” he added, willing to beg if necessary.
She shook her head, her gaze shifting to the side, her head held stiffly. “I didn’t come to pay a social call.”
“Oh?” Subtly, doing his best to make the movement look natural, he stepped into the doorway, glancing around to see if he could spot Simmons nearby.
The shadows of the night combined with the foggy mist revealed little. He wanted to pull Abigail into his arms and slam the door behind her to keep her safe. But if Simmons had her sisters, that would not be good enough.
“I’ve come for the rock you borrowed from my father’s collection.” Her blue eyes caught his, staring intently as though urging him to read her mind.
If only he could.
“Now?” He tried to think of some way to stall, to determine a plan to aid her without alarming Simmons.
“Yes. Right away, if you please.” Her lips tightened. “We’re—I’m in a terrible hurry.”
“Is everything all right?” He needed to remember to act as though he didn’t know what was happening.
“Of course. I’m merely in need of that particular stone.” Her voice trembled. She looked to her right out of the corner of her eye again.
Simmons was obviously nearby, listening to every word she said. The only way Stephen could think to keep Abigail safe was do as she asked. “Certainly. Won’t you come in while I retrieve it?” His hand tightened on the knob as the temptation to drag her out of danger surged.
“No, thank you. Please hurry.”
“All right then. It will take me a few moments to fetch it.”
She nodded stiffly. “I’ll wait here.”
“As you wish.” He pushed the door closed to keep Simmons from seeing his movements.
He gestured to Winston to follow him into the library where Markus still waited. “Markus, are you up to another task?”
“Of course.”
“Go out the kitchen door. Follow Miss Bradford and Simmons.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Wait!” He thought for a long moment. Damn. He wanted to follow them himself, but Simmons would be watching for him. “I need you to leave a trail for me to follow. I’ve got to know where Simmons takes Miss Bradford as quickly as possible.”
Markus nodded. “Simmons hired a hackney. Can a few of the servants come with me? We’ll leave one along the way at each turn he makes. With luck, that will show you the way. I’ll stay with them and come back for you.”
“Excellent idea, but be careful. You can’t be seen. The safety of several people depends on you.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Winston, go with him and explain the situation to the other servants and see who’ll volunteer.”
The pair hurried away, leaving Stephen alone in the library. He unlocked his desk drawer and stared at the meteorite, weighing his options, painfully aware of every second ticking by. He opened another drawer to reveal his own modest rock collection, including one similar in appearance.
No matter which rock he gave Abigail, he risked the chance of never seeing her again. There was no guarantee the servants would be able to follow them. Many things could go wrong. If they lost them, Stephen had no idea where to search. The warehouse where Simmons had been remained empty. Nor had he returned to his lodgings. At the moment, no other clues existed as to his whereabouts.
Yet if Stephen didn’t give Abigail the meteorite, Simmons might realize it, and Abigail would be the one to pay the price.
In truth, neither option was palatable.
Nor could he stand here and ponder the matter. He hastily withdrew the stone from his collection as well as the meteorite and returned to the front door.
The sight of her standing there scared and shivering nearly broke him. “I’m sorry for the delay.” And for everything else. “I nearly forgot where I put it.” He handed one of the stones to her and prayed it was the right decision. “I believe this is what you wanted.”
She froze as she stared at the rock he’d placed in her hand. Those huge eyes looked back up at him, full of doubt and fear.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
“But—”
“Please.”
She stared at him a moment longer, her fear evident. Then she gave him a single nod. “Thank you,” she said in a normal tone.
He looked out at the street behind her, hoping he’d given Markus and the servants enough time to get into position. “You’re sure you won’t come in?”
“No. I must be on my way.” She backed up.
No, his heart cried.
A shaky breath helped to rein in his emotions. He would not do anything to put her in further danger. The fog-shrouded darkness revealed nothing—not his servants, not Simmons. Somehow, he had to reassure her. “Abigail, I’ve been meaning to call on you. We have much to discuss, you and I.”
She opened her mouth to protest and cast a nervous glance to the side again. He held up his hand. “I realize now is not the time. I’ll come by to visit very soon.” He hoped she understood he meant it literally
.
“Goodbye.” Abigail turned away, giving one last glance over her shoulder at him before she walked down the steps and disappeared from sight.
Stephen gripped the doorknob, needing to hold on to something—anything—to keep from running after her. Simmons would be watching. Markus and the servants had a better chance of following them than he would. Logically he knew that, but every fiber of his being wanted to run out that door after her and never let her go.
Now he had only to keep his sanity until one of the servants returned. Abigail’s rescue was forthcoming but waiting for his plan to fall into place was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.
***
Abigail’s breath hitched as she walked away from Stephen into the deepening mist. She could only pray the odd stone he’d given her wouldn’t cost the lives of her sisters. When he’d whispered ‘trust me’, her heart had filled. In that moment, she’d realized that she trusted him completely. It didn’t matter if he didn’t trust her. She’d hardly given him a reason to.
Time and again, she’d moved forward without considering the consequences, thinking only of her problem while he’d worked toward solving the larger issue.
In truth, she’d ended their association to protect her heart. She hadn’t let anyone close except her family since her father’s death. The wall she’d built may have kept her from being hurt but also prevented her from taking a chance at love. Luckily, Stephen had found a way to breach her defenses.
What a fool she’d been, thinking she needed to be in control. What she needed was love. Stephen’s love. She could only hope in time he’d return her feelings and trust her enough to let her into his life and maybe, someday, into his heart.
For now, she needed to trust in her love for him and know that he had a plan. That he cared enough to help her.
She slid the rock into her pocket, hoping Simmons wouldn’t demand to examine it. The idea of not being able to save her sisters terrified her.
“See now? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Simmons’ voice startled her as he emerged from the fog to walk by her side. “Ye even managed to follow my instructions.”
Unraveling Secrets (The Secret Trilogy) Page 28