Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Edward
Hollinsby was slipping through my grasp.
I’d ridden for hours, and my only hint that I might be traveling in the right direction was a vague description offered to me by the innkeeper of the establishment I currently sat in, eating a quick meal.
A relentless storm had blown in, and I’d tucked inside to escape the worst of it.
After all, Hollinsby’s carriage couldn’t travel far in this weather any more than I could.
Utilizing my time of respite, I’d interrogated anyone who worked here for confirmation—for anything that might reassure me that this pursuit was not in vain. I received nothing with certainty, but the generalized descriptions afforded me hope.
Some small brightness of hope.
I sorely needed it. With the rush of racing after Hollinsby subsided for the time being, a heaviness settled over me. An aching. It was easier to shove the feeling aside when my focus was fixed on action, but now that I was still, nothing prevented the regret and heartache from seeping in.
Was Annette experiencing the same anguish, or had she written me off entirely? Forgotten me? I doubted it, but the thought provided no relief, only more pain.
“Will there be anything else for ye?” a maid asked, reaching for my empty bowl and utensils.
“No, I thank you.” I reached into my pocket to pay the woman, and my fingers stilled as they traced over something long and slender within. I removed it, holding the object in my palm. A hairpin.
Annette’s hairpin.
I had forgotten those were there, tucked away after my removal of them.
A pang ripped through my chest, the mere sight of the object unlocking a flood of memories.
For such a brief moment, I had clung to happiness—to the prospect of a future filled with more than just pursuing Hollinsby.
More than rescuing Adda and seeking reformation.
Those things had never faded, of course, but instead of facing them alone, Annette stood at my side.
And now my side was empty. Barren. A space devoid of the light and comfort she offered.
“I cannot take that as payment,” the maid said, eying the pins with bemusement and curiosity.
My fingers tightened around the hairpin instantly, as though I feared she might take them regardless of her declaration. “Of course, forgive me.”
Once paid, she again left me alone with my thoughts. I toyed with the hairpin, resisting the urge to pull the rest of them from my pocket. Perhaps I should post them back to Kenwick, but that would cause a stir. Her family would ask questions.
Questions would act as salt in an open wound.
I would keep them, then, a tangible reminder of what could have been. What I could never have.
I shoved the pin into my pocket and attempted to plan my course for after the storm ended instead, but the task proved nearly impossible.
Impossibly, the pins burned against my side.
My mind was determined to wander to the red-headed spitfire I’d left behind, the one I had last seen with tears welling in her eyes and pure disappointment in her expression.
I was the worst sort of man. All along, I’d known accepting that offer was a mistake. Why had I not listened to instinct? It would have been better for both of us to continue on as we were in London: acquaintances with a knack for vexing one another. Nothing more, nothing less.
Except, the notion did not sit with me any better than reality.
I had come to know and understand Annette, as she had me.
There was an undeniable comfort in feeling so close to someone, in sharing all of one’s dreams for the future and being so solidly accepted.
Whatever the circumstances and mistakes that had brought me to this point, I could not regret them. Not entirely.
The door of the establishment swung open, and a hooded man stomped inside, a multitude of complaints already leaving his lips and water dripping from every inch of him. Mud caked his trousers all the way up to his waist. There were even several splotches dotting his cheeks and nose.
“Ye look a fright,” said the maid, her nose wrinkling as her gaze traced over him and down to where the water and grime were pooling on the floor. “What ‘ave ye done to get in such a state?”
The man scoffed. “‘Tis not what I’ve done, but that blasted reckless carriage that passed me. You remember the one that arrived at the same time as me this morning? Tried to pass me with the roads in this state. Wasn’t room for us both, and he sent me straight into a rut.
Took me nearly an hour to get my carriage out. ”
“He shoved ye off the road?”
The man shrugged. “He gained on me as though the world would burn if he didn’t get through with haste. I reckon he’ll end up overturned if he keeps at it that way. The roads are in no shape for that sort of hurry.”
“Strange fellow,” said the maid. “Didn’t like the air about him. Seemed anxious.”
My heart pounded. An anxious man pushing through the storm at a dangerous pace? And, from the sound of things, one who cared not how his speedy escape might affect others. That had Hollinsby written all over it.
I crossed the room, and the man lifted his brows at my approach.
“Forgive me,” I said. “I could not help but overhear. I’ve been pursuing a man who might fit your description. It is of great importance that I catch him. Where did this incident happen?”
“About two miles from here,” the man offered readily, his expression drawn tight with disgust. “Just before the fork in the road.”
Before the fork? While it was a relief to know I was on the right track, a fork presented a problem.
Without an inkling of where Hollinsby intended to go, there was no way for me to know which route he took.
The rain fell too heavily, erasing any clues there might have been.
If I left now, perhaps I could choose a route and pray to catch him, but what if I chose wrong? It would put me further behind.
Put Adda further from reach.
But sitting here and doing nothing was not an option. I had to try.
“Thank you,” I said, then turned my attention to the maid. “May I request my horse be brought around?”
She blinked, clearly surprised. “But, sir, the weather.”
“Is rotten, but as I said, this is important.”
The maid nodded, then scurried off to see to my request. The man sighed before excusing himself to go clean up. I couldn’t blame him for wishing to get out of those wet clothes.
I waited near the door while Lightning was fetched, and just as the stable boy brought him around, another rider stopped in front of the inn.
With the rain pelting my face, it took me a moment to recognize the auburn hair peaking out beneath his hat, but there was no mistaking him once I noted the fire in his eyes.
I had cowered under Apsley’s fierce gaze this morning, and it was not an experience I would soon forget.
“Apsley,” I said as he dismounted, mud sloshing beneath his boots. “What are you doing here?”
He stormed over to me and fisted my coat in his hands. Rain dripped over the brim of his hat, and his damp clothing indicated he had ridden for some time in the storm. “My sister—is she with you!”
“What?” I spluttered. “No. No, of course not.”
Apsley’s hold relaxed, but he did not release me. “You are certain she did not follow you?”
Follow me? I tamped down the hope sparking in my chest.
“I…well, I suppose I cannot be certain of it, but what purpose would she have in doing so? She asked not to see me, if you will recall.”
“That may be, but she came to the library demanding to know where you were. When I told her you had left, urgently, she assumed it was related to Hollinsby and mentioned coming to your aid. I talked her out of it…or so I thought. No one has seen her for hours.”
Panic strangled my hope. “Hours?”
“Yes.” He gave me a hard look, as if this were my fault, and released me. Perhaps he was not entirely wrong. Another bout of thunder roared overhead, doing nothing to calm the hard beating in my chest.
Apsley swiped the water from his face. “We’ve searched the house four times over. Servants are scouring the property as we speak, but so far, nothing.”
“But the storm…if she is out in this weather—”
“Then I have great cause to worry.” The muscles in his jaw feathered, and I saw it then.
Beneath his fiery frustration with me lay pure concern for his sister’s well-being.
Apsley hefted a sigh. “I confess, part of me hoped she had gone after you. At least then I would know she is safe. I don’t agree with what you and my father did, but neither do I believe you would harm her. Not intentionally.”
Hearing him say as much was a boon to my aching soul but did not relieve my growing worry. Prolonged exposure to this sort of weather could cause the healthiest of people to take ill. Annette was strong, but she was not immune. “I will return with you. Help search for her.”
Apsley eyed me carefully. “And what of Hollinsby?”
I glanced down the muddy road. With the rain, I could not see far, the path disappearing into the mist. Somewhere beyond it, Hollinsby rode in his carriage, each second taking him further out of my reach. If I ended my pursuit now, I might never catch him. Might never rescue Adda.
But I could never live with myself if Annette were not found and something terrible happened to her. I could not shake the feeling that I was responsible for her disappearance, and the thought of losing her…
No. I would not.
With resolve, I turned my attention back to Apsley. “Let’s go find your sister.”
By the time Apsley and I reached Kenwick, the sky had darkened as dusk approached.
The rain had not let up our entire ride, and the two of us were soaked through.
While the last hints of summer were present in the green foliage surrounding us, the rain carried an icy chill that seeped into my bones.
Heaven forbid Annette was outside in this.