by Laura Landon
Hunter and Miles stood when she rose.
“Will you come back down, Lia?” Hunter asked.
“I think I shall. Perhaps I’ll spend the afternoon in the library, if I may.”
“By all means.” Hunter gave a lavish bow. “Feel free to plunder my shelves.”
Lia blushed, then hurried up the stairs. First she walked to the nursery, but it was empty. Frannie must still have little George in her room. It was her habit to let him play there and tire himself out.
She went to Frannie’s room but it was empty, as well.
“Frannie,” she called out, but there was no answer.
“Frannie!” she called again.
She retraced her steps, knowing the young girl had to be somewhere close by. But she found her nowhere.
“Frannie! Frannie!”
Nothing.
Lia ran to the top of the stairs. “Hunt! Hunt! Come quickly!”
. . . .
Hunter heard the terror in Lia’s voice and took the steps two at a time.
“She’s gone, Hunt. Frannie’s gone. And she took George!”
Hunt clasped her by the shoulders and pulled her against him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She trembled so badly he could hardly keep her in his grasp.
Miles came up behind him and raced to the nursery. “She’s not in there,” he said when he returned.
“Search the downstairs and the kitchen,” Hunter said. “Maybe she took George for that porridge she was speaking of.”
“Yes!” Lia said as her brother left to follow Hunter’s orders. “Oh, yes! That’s got to be it.”
“I’m sure, sweetheart,” he said, taking her by the hand to start searching the nearby rooms. But he was afraid that wasn’t what had happened. If it had been, surely Frannie would have heard them calling out for her.
They finished looking in each room on the floor, then went down the stairs.
“She’s not in the kitchen,” Miles said when he reappeared from below stairs. “I have the staff searching every room in the house.”
“Where could she have gone, Hunt? Why would she take him? Why?”
Hunter held her close and rubbed his hand up and down her back. Before he could say anything more, one of the footmen raced in from outside.
“There’s a horse missing from the stables, my lord.”
“No!” Lia cried out. “Why would she do that?”
“To protect him,” Miles answered. “She heard us talking when we said your father had sent men to search for the babe, and if he found George, he would no doubt get rid of him.”
“What are we going to do?” Lia cried out.
“We’ll go after her. We’ll find her and bring her home. She can’t have traveled too fast with the babe or gone too far.”
“Let’s go,” Miles said racing for the front door. “I’ll have our horses saddled.”
“I’m going too,” Lia said rushing for the front door.
“No, Lia. You can’t.”
“I can’t stay here, Hunt. Please, don’t ask me to. You know I won’t.”
Hunt leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. “Yes, I know you won’t.” He turned to Miles. “Have a carriage readied. We’ll need the carriage to bring Frannie and the babe home.”
Miles nodded, then raced from the house.
“Collect a blanket and follow me,” Hunter said before he followed Miles.
Lia joined him by the time they had the horses saddled and the carriage ready. “Careful now,” he said, handing her into the carriage. A footman was on top with the reins in his hands. As soon as Lia was inside, they were off.
“This way,” Miles called out. “Tracks go this way.”
Hunter admonished himself to stay calm and alert. Losing his head would wouldn’t help anyone if he let the crisis cloud his thinking. But all he could think about was the promise he’d made to Evan that he would take care of his child and not let anything happen to the babe.
Hunter clenched his teeth. This was yet another thing he’d failed to do.
. . . .
All Lia could think was that she’d failed to keep the promise she’d made her sister. She’d promised her that she would take care of her child and not let anything happen to him. But she’d failed to keep her promise.
Lia looked out the window, praying she’d see Fannie and the babe up ahead. But the road was empty.
Suddenly, the carriage slowed, then came to a halt. Hunter appeared beside her and Lia leaned out to see what had caused them to stop.
“Lia,” Hunter said, stopping beside her.
Lia’s heart raced faster in her breast. “Do you see her?”
“Yes, she’s up ahead. Miles scouted ahead of us and saw her.”
“Then why are we stopped. We need to catch up with her. We need to get George before she gets too far away from us.”
“We can’t.”
“What do you mean, we can’t.”
Hunter reached through the carriage window and took her hand. His grasp was solid in hers and he squeezed her fingers as if to tell her he was with her and everything would be alright.
“The men my father sent to find me have Frannie. Apparently she stopped at the inn to borrow money from a friend. A friend with a loose tongue, it seems.”
Lia couldn’t stop the small cry that escaped her. “What are we going to do? We can’t let them take George. We can’t!”
“We won’t. We’ll do whatever we have to do to get him back.”
“How?”
Before Hunter could give her an answer, Miles rode up beside them. “There are five of them. They have Frannie and the babe, but they are safe.”
Lia refused to release Hunter’s hand. The strength of his warm flesh against hers was all that was keeping her from falling apart at this moment.
“Lia.” Hunter’s serious gaze locked with hers. “You have to promise me you’ll stay in the carriage and not get out.”
Lia shook her head. “I can’t. I—”
“You have to. I can’t worry about you and deal with Father’s men at the same time.”
“But what if—?”
“Please, Lia. The only way you can help George is to do exactly what I ask you to do. Promise me you will.”
Lia hesitated. How could she stay here not knowing what was happening? He was asking the impossible.
“Promise me, Lia.”
“I promise,” she whispered, knowing that she probably would not be able to keep her promise.
“That’s my girl.”
“Are you armed?” Miles asked.
Hunter pulled a gun from a pocket in his jacket, then opened the carriage door and drew a gun from beneath the carriage seat. “Take this,” he said and handed Lia the pistol. “Use it if you have to.”
“Set it like this.” He showed her the mechanism. “Point. Shoot. Got it?”
Lia nodded.
“Are you ready?” Miles asked.
Hunter nodded.
“Good,” Miles said. “Let’s go.”
Lia watched as Hunter mounted his horse, then followed Miles and the footman who had been driving the carriage.
. . . .
Leaving Lia was more difficult than Hunter had imagined it would be. Expecting her to stay hidden inside the carriage was the one thing he didn’t expect her to do, even though she had promised him she would. He knew it would not be possible for her to keep her promise. He only hoped she would stay hidden long enough for him to reach his father’s men and assess the situation before she followed.
They rode close to a copse of trees and dismounted. With extreme care, they slowly crept through the saplings and shrubbery until they had a clear view of the men holding Frannie and George. They were safe…so far.
Hunter recognized one of the man, and the man’s distinctive voice confirmed his identity.
“What should we do with them?” one of the kidnappers asked.
“You know what Trentridge said. He wish
ed the whelp never born.”
“I ain’t killin’ no babe, Hank,” one of them said.
“Me neither,” a second man was heard to say. “I just thought we were supposed to find them. Not get rid of them.”
“Well, Trentridge changed his mind. He said if something happened to his son and the babe he wouldn’t mind.”
The full force of the words sickened Hunter. He’d known his father was capable of such thoughts, but hearing them put into action drew the despicable act out of the realm of possibility and into the here and now.
“What kind of man intends to kill his own grandson?”
“The kind of man whose twenty quid is waitin’ for ya once the deed is done.”
“Well, I ain’t gonna do it.”
“Fine. I’ll do it,” the first man said, and stepped out to where Frannie stood holding little George.
Hunter’s mind raced, seeking a strategy to foil the man’s intention. At the same moment, the second man stepped in the leader’s way. He held out a hand to stop the leader’s action, but the burly man knocked him to the ground with a beastly punch. With a kick to the downed fellow, he turned and strode toward Frannie.
“Halt!”
With a loud bellow, Hunter rushed forward with his gun drawn. He fired once, then twice, before his fire was returned and he felt a sharp pain in his side.
Miles fired at the same time and so did the footman. One of the kidnappers went down, then a second. The footman tackled a third man and Miles went after the fourth. The leader had managed to dodge them all.
The pain in his side caused him to stumble, but Hunter couldn’t give in to it. He needed to reach the baby before his father’s man did.
Hunter ran as fast as his wound would allow him to go and he reached the babe just as the last gunman pulled the trigger of his weapon. Hunt waited to feel the burning pain of a bullet going through him, but there was none. The man’s pistol was either jammed or out of powder.
Hunter rushed him, thankful for the reprieve, but when he reached him, the man swiped a long-bladed knife through the air. The tip of the blade tore through his jacket and reached the skin beneath.
His gun had fallen to the ground as he plowed into the man, and Hunter scrambled to recover it. But the man slashed his knife again and this time cut through the fabric on his arm.
Hunter knew he didn’t have much strength left and wouldn’t be able to hold the murderer at bay.
The man lifted the knife in the air and with a loud bellow lunged at Hunter. Reeling, Hunter held out his arm to ward him off, but before the man reached him, a blast of gunfire echoed in the air and the man froze with his arm extended.
A large circle of blood stained the man’s shirt and he looked at his chest in disbelief. The man sank to his knees and locked his gaze with that of his killer, then fell to the ground.
“Lia?” Hunter called out, then staggered to where she stood. She looked at the man lying dead on the ground, then stared with incredulity at the gun in her hand.
As if the gun had burned her fingers, she dropped it and clamped her hand over her mouth.
Hunter knew she wanted to scream in fright, but she didn’t. She raced to him and wrapped her arms around him to hold him up.
“Are you alright?” Hunter draped his arm across her shoulders and leaned against her.
“I’m fine. But you’re not. You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Of course you will. You have to be.”
Hunter looked around to where Miles and the footman stood over the two men they’d overpowered.
“How badly are you hurt?” Miles asked, looking at the dark red circles that spread across Hunter’s shoulder and side. They were getting larger by the second.
“Not bad enough to kill me.”
“Lia,” Miles said. “Get Hunt to the carriage. I’ll see to Frannie and the babe.”
Hunter looked to where Frannie was huddled behind a tree with little George. The babe was crying with fright over the noisy chaos, but he was safe. He hadn’t been hurt.
Lia ducked beneath Hunter’s arm and he placed his arm across her shoulders. He hurt more with every step he took and feared he might lose consciousness before he reached the carriage. But when he finally reached the open door, the footman moved swiftly to help him inside.
“Please tell me you’re going to make it,” Lia begged when he was settled inside.
“Yes, thanks to you.”
The footman was dispatched to town with the dead kidnapper across his horse and his three injured cohorts in tow. The authorities would mete out justice. When Miles arrived with Frannie and George, Lia took the babe and had Frannie ride atop with the footman. Miles climbed inside to care for Hunter.
Lia gave the excuse that with Hunter injured and Miles caring for him, it would be too crowded for Frannie inside. But Hunter knew that wasn’t the reason. He knew Lia was so angry with Frannie that she didn’t want to be confined with her.
“That girl!” Lia fumed. “After everything we’ve done to keep Georgie safe she went and, and—”
Hunter took a slow, shallow breath and reached his hand to cover hers. “Lia. She didn’t know what else to do.”
“She could have told us!”
“No.” He shook his head. “She couldn’t.” He drew something from his pocket. “I found this in the stable. I didn’t tell you because, well, because it scared the bloody hell out of me.”
He unfolded a crumpled note and handed it to her. “Frannie must have dropped it.”
Lia shifted the babe a bit so she could read the blood-stained note.
You have the babe we want. Bring him to the old mill by six o’clock and you will be well paid. Fail to bring him and both you and the babe will die. Tell anyone and you’ll all die.
“She took him to that broken down mill? She just handed him over?”
Lia was incredulous. She’d had every reason to trust Frannie and what had the girl done? At the first hint of reward she handed him right over.
Beside her Hunter groaned and clutched his shoulder.
“No, Lia. She didn’t.”
“But—”
“She went the opposite direction. It must have been the so-called friend, the one she went to for money, who gave her away.”
He watched Lia sit back against the squabs as the full weight of the revelation chastised her. She’d been so very wrong. What else would a girl in Frannie’s position have done?
As the carriage rocked crazily along, the babe began to whimper. Lia raised him in her arms and tucked his face into her neck. Her soft clucking quieted him as they raced toward home.
But nothing could quiet Hunter’s escalating fears. They’d saved the child this time, but what would his father do next? He’d just declared himself. His lethal intent was no longer mere conjecture. The Marquess of Trentridge wouldn’t rest until the child was out of the picture.
Completely.
Chapter 11
The babe finally fell asleep and Lia had time to relive everything that had happened.
Frannie had taken George to the nursery to feed him and put him down for the night. Miles was keeping watch in case there were any more of Hunter’s father’s men around. Aunt Mildred had gone to bed after making sure there was enough food to feed everyone, and the doctor had come to take care of Hunter’s wounds. Now Lia sat at Hunter’s bedside, waiting for him to regain consciousness.
The knife wound to his arm was minor. The doctor had cleaned it, sewn the flesh together and bandaged it. But the lead ball that had drilled into his shoulder had caused more severe damage. The doctor was forced to work a long time before he was able to dig the ball out. Hunter had been in a great deal of pain throughout the ordeal.
Lia reached out to hold Hunter’s hand, then moved from her chair to the edge of the bed. She needed to be close to him.
This had been the most horrible day of her life. The terror she’d felt when she realized that George was miss
ing caused her heart to want to stop beating. Then, when Hunter had been shot and she feared he might die, a part of her wanted to die, too. She’d suffered the same emotions as she had the day Jannie took her last breath. It was an emotional tempest that was difficult to explain.
She took a damp cloth from the bedside table and wiped the perspiration from Hunter’s face. Then, she sat back down beside him and held his hand, refusing to let him go.
“You can…go to…bed,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll be…fine.”
“Oh,” Lia said in surprise. “Oh, Hunt. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She tried to stop the tears from rushing down her cheeks but she couldn’t. It was as if the river of tears that had been dammed up were suddenly released.
“You…didn’t.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Something…cool and…wet.”
Lia rose and poured some fresh water into a glass and held it to his lips. “Not too much,” she said, taking the glass away from him.
“Where’s…George?”
“Frannie has him upstairs. She fed him and put him to bed.”
“You…trust…her now?”
“More than ever!” The relief was apparent on her face. “Miles is keeping watch in case your father sent more men to harm the babe, or to prevent Frannie from falling into another trap. She’s promised to come straight to us with even the smallest concern and I believe her.”
“We need to…talk, Lia.”
“I know, Hunt. But not now. You’re too weak. You need to sleep. You need to heal. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Yes,” he whispered, then fell into a laudanum-induced sleep.
She sat at his bedside and held his hand while he slept. As the minutes crept by she began to understand that this was no ordinary compassion that she felt for the man. This was love. How it had happened she couldn’t say. Perhaps it had begun in that initial electric moment that had passed between them the first time he’d touched her.
Whatever its origin, she knew without a doubt that it was love, and that she loved him more than she had believed it was possible to love anyone. She loved him with her whole heart and soul.
Tears ran down her cheeks when she thought of what was ahead for them. There was Hunt’s father to deal with, and Lia couldn’t think of any way out of the mess they were in as long as his father remained in the picture.