Chapter 23
“Master Oliver is missing.”
Time seemed to freeze as the words struck Catherine like a bullet. “And I cannot find Daisy either.”
The blood in her body turned to ice as she looked at the empty room behind her. She looked at Alaric, saw the dark circles under his eyes, the tightness of his jaw.
This is all my fault.
She clenched her hands into fists, trying to force some reason into her sluggish mind. She needed to stay rational and think clearly. She closed her eyes, bringing the facts to the front of her mind. Mrs. Langley—no, Miss Marina Ashcroft—had tried to kill Alaric, and now she was gone.
She was the late Duke’s paramour. The pieces clicked into place in Catherine’s mind, and her eyes flew open. “Miss Marina is Oliver’s mother, is she not?”
Alaric nodded. “Yes.”
“Who?” Mrs. Danvers looked utterly nonplussed.
“Mrs. Langley is really Miss Marina Ashcroft. A former lover of my father’s.” Alaric’s lip curled at the last word. “She tried to poison me and has now absconded.”
“With Oliver.” Catherine felt the room sway around her and shook her head, forcing her attention back to the present.
Mrs. Danvers gasped and clutched at her chest.
“We do not know that she has him.” Catherine saw Alaric’s fingers twitch before he clasped his hands behind his back.
“Mrs. Danvers, send runners to every farm and cottage within five miles, warning them that a dangerous thief is on the loose. Give them Mrs. Langley’s description.
Tell them to let everyone know that I will give ten guineas to anyone who provides information that might lead to her capture.
There is a thirty-guinea reward for anyone who captures and brings her to me. ”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mrs. Danvers nodded.
“Tell the rest of the servants what has happened and that their priority is to find Oliver.” Alaric’s voice was a command, and Catherine could see the stiffness in his muscles. “I do not care about dinner, cleaning the house, anything. I want everyone looking for Oliver.”
“I will see that no stone is unturned, Your Grace.” Mrs. Danvers curtsied.
Catherine watched the woman go, the lead in her stomach solidifying. She felt Alaric move closer to her and looked up to see him reaching toward her, his eyes gentle.
“What if we cannot find them?” Catherine felt a lump form in her throat.
“I do not think she has Oliver. The state of her room indicates her departure was unplanned. Speed was the priority, and I suspect it will remain so.” She felt him gently squeeze her shoulder.
“If she has taken him, it will be hard to move quickly. She would have Oliver, Daisy, and her belongings. That would slow her down significantly.”
“We should check the stables. There is every chance she could have taken them on horseback.” Catherine began to walk down the corridor, and Alaric fell into step beside her.
“I do not think it likely she would have managed Oliver and Daisy and her luggage on horseback, but she may have attempted to steal a carriage. At any rate, once I have spoken to the stablemaster, we will have a better idea of how far she could have gotten.”
“Alaric, you are supposed to be resting.”
“Would you be able to rest if you were me? He may not be my son, but he is my family.” An unreadable look flitted across Alaric’s face. “I will find him, Catherine. I swear it.”
“We will look for him together.” Catherine continued before he could object. “Two pairs of eyes will be better than one, and I am not about to let you out of my sight. If you collapse, it might be hours before anyone finds you.”
Alaric’s jaw worked, but he did not argue. “Very well. We shall look for him on the way to the stables. With any luck, he is hiding nearby.”
Catherine nodded, and as they emerged into the gardens, she yelled, “Oliver! Oliver, where are you?”
Several birds startled themselves out of a nearby tree, but Catherine did not care. She did not run even though every part of her roared at her to sprint. If I run, I might miss a sign of him. Beside her, Alaric moved like a wolf stalking his prey.
“Oliver!” his voice boomed out, hoarse but still powerful. “Daisy! Here, girl!”
There was no response except for the fluttering of birds’ wings as they soared into the sky. Catherine felt an invisible hand tighten around her heart, like a vice gripping her chest.
She has taken him. I know it.
“Oliver!” Alaric roared again, the muscles of his neck so taut that Catherine could see his veins. “Oliver!”
“Please, darling, come back! You are not in trouble!” Catherine shouted, unable to keep her voice from breaking. “Oliver!”
They continued to call for him as they searched along the paths to the stables. When they reached them, Catherine searched the area while Alaric spoke with the stablemaster.
She was lifting the lid of one of the feed barrels when she heard a sound behind her. She whirled around to see Alaric standing in the doorway.
“There are no horses missing, nor any carriages. It seems Miss Ashcroft has left on foot.” Alaric’s eyes darkened.
Catherine’s heart leapt. “Then there is still a chance we can find her.”
“There is.” Alaric massaged his scar. “I would ask the kennel master to send the hounds to find her, but if she has Oliver, there is a chance he might be hurt in the attempt.”
“I thought you said you did not think she took him.”
“I do not. But until we have found him, I will not risk it. Once we have, however, I shall have him send out the hunt.”
Overhead, the darkening sky rumbled with distant thunder. Catherine thought of the way Oliver had clung to her hand the first time he had encountered a storm. He had shaken like a leaf in the wind, his eyes wide, whimpering at every sound.
Please, God, let him be safe. Let us find him. Let me be wrong. She wanted to believe Alaric, but how could she? The woman had been desperate enough to poison Alaric; what if she had kidnapped Oliver?
“Let us loop through the e astern gardens. Oliver likes to play in the forest nearby.” Alaric’s voice jerked Catherine back to the present.
She nodded numbly. The sky continued to darken as they moved through the grounds, crying out for Oliver. She heard the voices of the servants echoing around them, and with each voice, her stomach sank a little more.
“Oliver! Daisy!” A chorus of voices called out, each echoing.
Overhead, another low rumble of thunder rolled across the estate. She saw Alaric looking from her to the sky. “You should wait at the house.”
“I am not going back until we have found him.” Catherine shook her head. “I cannot.”
Thick droplets of rain started to fall from the sky, and she drew her coat around her. “I wish I knew more of hunting and such. Perhaps then I could track him.”
Catherine tried to keep the powerlessness she felt from her voice. Alaric ran a hand through his hair. “It would not help. This rain will make it impossible to find tracks.”
If there are even any to be found. Catherine forced herself to focus on looking for Oliver. She strained her eyes, hoping to catch sight of Daisy’s familiar body or Oliver’s hair.
I do not even know what he was wearing.
Suddenly, she saw a flash of white in a bush and hurried toward it, only to find a discarded handkerchief. Another time, Alaric suddenly stopped, looked into the branches of a tree, and then shook his head.
With each passing moment, the weight in Catherine’s chest grew heavier. The rain soaked them to their skin, but she barely noticed. She was numb. She screamed for Oliver as loudly as she could, regardless of how it strained her voice.
“Oliver!” she cried again and again, Alaric echoing her calls.
She heard him whistle and looked around, praying that she would see the familiar sight of Daisy sprinting toward her. Nothing happened; the only disturbance was leaves in the wind and rain.
“If she has taken him, I will never forgive myself.” Catherine hiked her skirts up as she waded through the thick mud. “I should have seen this. I should have stopped it.”
She kept her voice low, not wanting Alaric to hear her.
Her eyes kept drifting toward him. His face was emotionless, but she could see that his body was like a tightly coiled spring.
His shouts were growing hoarser, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that she could see every muscle in his neck tense with the effort.
She knew he would not stop searching. If he collapses, that will be yet another thing to lay at my feet. She had let the poisoner into the house; she was the reason they were in the pouring rain, searching for a little boy and his dog.
The numbness mingled with shame, a toxic wave coursing through her body. There will be time enough for pity. She forced one foot in front of the other.
“Where are you?” she cried out, battling to be heard over the wind.
Thunder roared, her only response. She had no idea how long they had been searching. It seemed like hours. The dark sky made it impossible to tell. Every part of her was soaked, but she did not care.
She was unsure which was worse: the thought of Oliver being dragged with his puppy by an attempted murderer into some unknown place or Oliver hiding somewhere, scared and soaked.
A servant emerged from the storm. “Your Grace, please, we need to call off the search! It is not safe.”
“Take the Duchess with you, have rooms made up, and the fires readied. I will keep searching.” Alaric reached for Catherine as though to guide her toward the servant, but she darted out of his grip.
“If you stay, so do I.” She glared at him. “I will not leave you here.”
“Your Grace...” the servant began again, but Catherine interrupted him.
“Ensure the fires are lit, and there are dry clothes for us to change into. We will need them once we have found Oliver.”
The servant nodded, opened his mouth as if to protest, then shut it abruptly. Catherine watched him leave and turned to face Alaric.
His face was pale, and his eyes sank in. His lips were purple from the cold, though Catherine suspected hers looked the same. She understood that the servant was right, but how could she stop searching when Oliver was still out there?
“Let us hope he has found some shelter.” Alaric gestured around them and began walking into the storm.
Catherine followed, each of them calling out for Oliver. She doubted that he heard their cries over the storm. Catherine could barely see through the heavy rain. She felt herself start to shiver.
Suddenly, Alaric stopped. “Did you hear that?”
Catherine’s heart skipped several beats, and she strained her ears, but all she could hear was the roar of rain. “What?”
“I thought… There!” Alaric tore off, and Catherine sped after him.
“Alaric! Wait!” she called, and then she heard it. A soft whining. “Daisy!”
Catherine was running even faster now, but she was no match for Alaric. She watched him hurtle through the storm and saw a familiar wall in the distance. The sound of whining had stopped, but she did not care.
Alaric was going through the hole, into the space she had hidden. Please, let him be there. Catherine rounded the corner and nearly ran into Alaric, who had stopped.
“Oliver?” His voice was gentle, barely audible above the sound of the wind and rain.
The wall provided a small amount of shelter; there were tiny patches of dry space, and as Alaric knelt down, Catherine saw them. Oliver and Daisy were huddled in the same corner she had hidden in.
His hair clung to him, and he was shaking, holding a wriggling Daisy in his arms as his lips quivered. His eyes were wide, and he pressed himself against the corner even harder, shaking his head. He was as pale as a sheet.
“I... I am scared.” Oliver’s lip trembled, his tiny voice nearly lost in the wind.
Catherine felt her heart shatter inside her chest. A few days ago, his speech would have filled her with joy and pride, but now, they were mixed with sadness and fury. Oliver was speaking, and his first words to her were filled with fear.
If I ever find Mrs. Langley—Marina—whatever that witch calls herself, I will make her pay for what she has done to my family.
Catherine moved toward Oliver and knelt beside him, searching his body for some sign of injury.
“I know, little one, I know.” She spread her arms wide, and Oliver moved toward her, allowing her to hold him in her embrace. “I am here now. We both are, and we will not let anything happen to you.”
Daisy was licking Catherine’s cheek, her tiny body trembling. Catherine noticed Oliver relax a little, but his body kept shaking.
“I am so sorry, Oliver. I should never have let this happen to you.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and rocked him gently. “You gave us quite the fright.”
She felt something hot against her neck and realized that Oliver was crying. “Sorry.”
“Why did you hide from us?” Catherine asked, still holding him and rocking him gently.
“Not you.” Oliver shook his head, sending droplets of water spraying.
“You hid from Mrs. Langley?” Alaric’s deep voice cut through the storm as he knelt beside Catherine.
She smelled the familiar cedar and amber scent mingling with the storm, the puppy, and Oliver. Catherine leaned against Alaric as he wrapped his arms around her, and Oliver.
“Had to.” Oliver’s voice was muffled as Catherine and Alaric held him. “Didn’t want to leave.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You did the right thing.” Catherine saw Alaric rub Oliver’s back and felt Oliver relax even more against her.
Daisy let out a tentative whimper and a yip. The storm rumbled overhead, and Catherine looked at Alaric. His face was difficult to see in the dark, but she could see the same relief and frustration she felt reflected in his expression.
“There is a secret passage that leads to my chambers and another that will take you to my study,” Alaric murmured, shifting slightly, the warmth of his body comforting Catherine.
“I will show you how to find them—if something like this happens again, you use those passages and hide in my study or my chambers.”
Oliver nodded.
“We will always protect you, Oliver.” Catherine squeezed Oliver’s hand. “You will always be safe while we are around.”
“I will not let anything happen to you.” Alaric stood up, helped Catherine to her feet and scooped Oliver and Daisy into his arms. “Now, let us get you warm and dry.”
“And fed. I suspect you could do with some cake, and maybe a hot chocolate.” Catherine rested a hand on Alaric’s arm.
Oliver leaned against Alaric, and the three of them walked back to the castle. The warmth of Alaric was a balm against the cold seeping into Catherine’s bones. Relief washed over her, but it could not hide the gnawing feeling growing in her stomach.
What will happen now?
Marina Ashcroft was still out there, and as long as she was, none of them would be safe.