Chapter Twenty-Four
“I t will all be fine,” Tessa assured Chase the next morning as he drove the rented gig toward the Fishers’ cottage.
Dear God, he hoped so. He should have left her back at the inn, to spare her the emotional distress certain to befall the Fishers at his hands, but he also knew he couldn’t get through this day without her support.
She sat beside him on the bench seat and had spent most of the short travel time from the posting inn reassuring him, but she couldn’t hide her own nervousness at the meeting to come. Even now she fussed with her gloves and bonnet, unable to hide the lack of color in her cheeks and the anxious trembling in her hands.
He flicked the ribbons to keep the single horse in a steady trot. The sooner they reached the cottage and met with Father Blaine, Dr. Poston, and the Fishers, the sooner this would all be over. And then a new life could begin.
His own hands began to tremble at that thought, and he wrapped the leather around his palms to hide it.
“Truly, it will be.” She wrapped her arm around his as the gig turned toward the cottage’s front garden, where the rector’s own rig and another saddle horse—most likely belonging to Dr. Poston—already waited. “You have to believe that.”
He slanted her an uncertain glance, careful to keep his face stoic. He no longer knew what to believe.
“And know that I’ll be here for you,” she added in a whisper, so softly the gentle sound nearly undid him, “however you need me.”
He looked away and nodded, unable to speak around the knot in his throat.
He stopped the rig in front of the cottage, tied off the ribbons, and jumped down to help Tessa to the ground. Before she released his hand, she gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze, and the small gesture sped through him, leaving a welcome warmth in its wake.
“Thank you,” he murmured, holding her gaze in his.
A puzzled frown pulled at her brow. “But I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Oh yes, you have.” More than she would ever know.
Before she could question him further, he took her arm and escorted her toward the little cottage.
The front door opened, and Father Blaine hurried outside to meet them at the road. Chase halted at the sight of the priest’s grim expression.
“I need to speak with you,” the rector said urgently.
Unease bit at Chase’s gut. “Is it the birthmark?” His thoughts immediately focused on the worst. “Did the doctor examine the boy and not find it?”
“No.” Father Blaine cast a glance over his shoulder at the cottage and lowered his voice. “The boy’s gone. No one knows where.”
“Gone?” Tessa repeated, shocked. Her fingers tightened on Chase’s jacket sleeve.
Thank God she did, because Chase felt himself start to sway. “Explain,” he demanded.
“Mrs. Fisher is missing,” the priest informed them, his voice raspy with emotion. “So is the boy. After we visited the cottage yesterday, she didn’t return from the market. Her shopping basket was left by the cottage, and Davie—I mean Thomas—disappeared. We think she took the boy and left.”
An icy cold rush of pain swept through Chase as every muscle in his body constricted from a rising panic.
“She must have overheard us yesterday as we were leaving.” He rubbed hard at his nape. “We discussed the birthmark, and she would have known… No one’s seen either of them since yesterday.”
“Where’s Fisher?” Chase had no idea how he was able to form the words. Christ, he had no bloody idea how he was able to remain standing!
“Inside with Dr. Poston. He had no idea she would flee like that with the boy and—”
“Fisher!” Chase stormed toward the cottage.
The man emerged from the dark cottage, his face drawn and pallid. Guilt darkened his exhausted expression when he saw Chase, and he raked shaking fingers through his hair.
“Father Blaine explained to me who you are.” The large man’s voice sounded surprisingly small and apologetic. “We had no idea that Davie… I’m sorry.” He stared at Chase, his eyes watery and his shoulders slumping, making him appear far smaller and weaker than he was. “We had no idea he might be anyone’s son. We thought his family had abandoned him or perished on the sea. We lost our own boy not that long ago, you see, and Mary… Well, she needs to be a mother.” He swallowed hard. “She must have panicked and fled to keep you from taking the boy away from her. I’m so sorry.”
Chase’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need the man’s apology or understanding. He needed his help. “Where would she have taken him?”
“She loves that boy as much as she loved her own. She’d never hurt him.”
“ Where did she take him?” Chase demanded. Every hour that passed would make finding them impossibly more difficult.
Fisher shook his head, at a complete loss. “I spent all night searching the village and harbor.” He looked haggard and exhausted, with a day’s growth of beard and mussed clothes showing that he’d not slept last night. “There was no sign of them. I swear it.”
“I’ve sent word to all the area posting inns to find out if she might have gone to one of them,” Father Blaine added.
“They could be anywhere by now,” Chase muttered, his body flashing with excruciating pain and numbness in turn, his mind reeling. He and Tessa had left the cottage early yesterday. Enough hours had passed that the woman could have gotten far out of the village by now. “She could be halfway to London.”
“We’ll find her,” Tessa assured him.
“We’ll find him ,” Chase corrected. “One way or another, I’ll bring my son back to me.” He squinted into the sunlight. “And God help anyone who stands in my way.”
*
Chase placed his forefinger on the map of England that was spread out across the table in the inn’s private dining room. “We’re here.” He tapped the name of the small village along the southern Channel. “One main road east to London, and one north.”
He looked up at the men standing around the table, and his shoulders lightened with relief. Reinforcements.
His two best friends had arrived only minutes ago—Devlin Raines, Duke of Dartmoor, and Lucien Grenier, Duke of Crewe. They had left London immediately upon receiving the message he’d sent post haste yesterday when he’d discovered Thomas had been taken. They hadn’t hesitated to help and had ridden through the night and morning to arrive just after noon, not pausing to eat nor sleep. Now they gathered around the table to forge their strategy for what to do next, with dust still clinging to their coats and their riding clothes rumpled from the road.
They weren’t done yet. They would all have a long day and night ahead of them, including Chase. But none of them would complain or hesitate.
Only Shay Douglass, Duke of Malvern, was missing.
His absence wasn’t because he refused to help. Instead, Shay had been sent on a different mission to help settle the problems of the past, and Chase didn’t expect to hear from him until after their pursuit was over, when they were all back at Cuillin Castle. Then, there would be time to deal with other matters.
Speaking of other matters… His gaze drifted to Tessa, who stood at the table with the men. But of course, she did. Chase needed her help in finding Thomas as much as he needed his best friends, and she was one of the few women he’d ever met—perhaps the only one—who could hold her own in helping formulate their plans. She was nothing if not a soldier’s daughter.
God help him, he also simply needed her. Her support, her confidence in him, her no-nonsense practicality… She brought him comfort and hope. Soon, he would have to sort through all that had happened between them and why, to decide the best path forward for all of them, if any.
But for now, his focus had to be on his son.
“I questioned the innkeeper and his hostlers,” Chase informed them. “She purchased passage for herself and Thomas the day before yesterday on the afternoon mail coach heading east toward London.” He traced his fingertip over the road that followed the winding coastline, then turned up toward the capital. “They would have made good time, even with stops along the way.”
“Two full days and nights of travel,” Devlin mumbled, his eyes narrowing on the map. “She’s most likely in London by now.”
Lucien said nothing, but Chase knew he agreed with Devlin from the grim set of his jaw. Just as he knew what they were all thinking but didn’t want to utter aloud—if she departed the mail coach in London, then she could disappear into the city’s rabbit warren of streets, change her name, and most likely never be found.
“She won’t stay in London,” Tessa interjected softly. “Mr. Fisher told me she has a sister in Wolverhampton, near Birmingham. She’ll go there.”
“What makes you think that?” Lucien asked.
“She has no family in London, knows no one there, has no way of earning any money…” She moved her gaze between the three men. “Her first priority will be taking care of Thomas and removing him as far away from Chase as she can, which means taking him as far away from the southern coast as possible. She’ll also be thinking about a place where she can hide while she considers her options.”
“Or not hide and keep traveling north, all the way up to Scotland,” Devlin muttered with a heavy breath as he studied the map.
“She doesn’t have the money for that,” Tessa countered. “She didn’t go inside the cottage after returning from the market, so she had barely any remaining money with her. Based on what she left behind in her basket and what Mr. Fisher told me she had taken with her to the market, she would have had only enough money to buy passage to Birmingham. After three days of non-stop travel, she’ll need a place to rest.” She shook her head. “I’m not saying she’ll stay in Wolverhampton for long, probably only long enough to decide where to go next and accept money from her sister to travel on. But that’s where you should look for her first.”
Chase’s chest swelled. He’d never been prouder of her than at that moment.
Yesterday, Tessa had insisted on staying behind at the cottage to speak with Mr. Fisher while Chase tracked the woman to the inn and onto the mail coach. He’d been unable to pursue her further. With so many towns, posting inns, and coaches between Salterton and London, she could have been anywhere along the coast. Tracking her would have been like finding a needle in a haystack.
But Tessa had been able to do what he couldn’t—to think like a woman with her heart and understand the pull of sanctuary with family—and because of that, bringing Thomas home was still possible.
“She won’t put him into any kind of danger,” Chase assured them, certain of it. “But he will slow her down because she’ll need to stop and rest along the way. That will buy us time.” He traced the road to London and up to Birmingham. “She also has to follow the mail routes. We’ll cut cross country on secondary roads, heading directly north from here.” He tapped the map. The roads were too small to be noted on the map, but he knew they were there and would lead north, all converging on the next large city…Birmingham. “If we hurry, we might even beat her there.”
“Then we need to leave immediately,” Lucien declared. “We’ll have to rent fresh saddle horses and ride hard.”
“I’ll come with you,” Tessa interjected, pulling her spine straight with determination. “Perhaps having a woman there will make it easier to convince Mrs. Fisher to give Thomas to you, or at least to soften the fight.” When the men didn’t immediately agree, she arched a brow. “I’m a good rider. My father was a cavalry general, for heaven’s sakes. I can ride astride as well as any man, and I promise I won’t slow you down.”
As much as Chase wanted her at his side, he also knew she could do more to help him by staying behind. “I need you to remain here in case she returns. Wait until you receive word from me, then travel home to Weymouth.”
She nodded tightly her acceptance of his decision, but he couldn’t help but note the disappointment dulling her eyes. “I’ll meet you at Cuillin in a few days.” Her voice broke. “To greet Thomas when he returns home with you.”
A lump formed in Chase’s throat. “You will,” he said with all the certainty he could muster. “Fate gave me my son back. I won’t lose him again.”
Devlin rested his hand on Chase’s shoulder. “We’ll make certain of that.”
Chase was more grateful than he would ever be able to say, because even now uncertainty gnawed at his gut that, once again, he would be unable to protect his son. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet his friends’ eyes as he quickly rolled up the map to take with them.
“Now,” Lucien said as he pulled on his leather riding gloves, ready for action. “Let’s start hunting.”
Chase didn’t dare glance at Tessa for fear of what his friends would see on his face, but he nodded in agreement. “Go get the horses. I’ll meet you outside.”
The two men said their goodbyes to Tessa, and she watched them as they left the room.
She caught her breath when Chase’s fingers clasped hers and squeezed reassuringly. When her eyes lifted to meet his, he saw the watery tears glistening in their depths.
He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm, and she trembled. “We’ll only be gone a few days. I hope to find Mrs. Fisher and Thomas by tomorrow night and be back on the road with him the next morning.” He murmured, “As soon as you hear from me, leave for home. I’ll need you to prepare Cuillin for us. Right now, it’s not at all a welcoming place for a child.”
“Was it ever?” But the quaver in her voice undercut her attempted sarcasm.
“No,” he answered truthfully. But he hoped to God he could change that. “You’ll need to reopen the house, set up the nursery, unpack everything we put away—”
“Exorcise the ghosts?”
He grimaced. “If there’s one person who can accomplish that, it’s you.” There was more truth behind that quiet statement than he wanted to admit. That, too, he prayed he could change. “Don’t worry about Thomas and me.” He slipped his arms around her to pull her close, his lips lingering at her temple. “We have Lucien and Devlin to keep us safe.”
She nodded, but the jerking movement did little to counter her troubled expression or dissipate the gathering tears in her eyes. When she bit her bottom lip to worry it between her teeth, he lowered his head to kiss her until her mouth softened and the anxiety eased from her, but the sadness he tasted in her kiss nearly undid him. When she reached up to encircle his neck with her arms and pull him closer, he had no choice but to back away and break the kiss. If he didn’t, he would never have been able to part from her.
He left the inn, not having the resolve to glance back for a last look at her for fear he’d change his mind and bring her with him. He would never do that. The truth was only partly what he’d told Tessa—he did need her here in case Mrs. Fisher and Thomas returned. But the unspoken truth was that he feared he could never protect both her and Thomas together.
Both? He choked back a bitter laugh as he crossed the inn yard. He couldn’t protect either one.
Lucien and Devlin waited by three horses tied to the paddock fence, already saddled and ready to ride.
“We’ll change horses every two hours,” Chase told them. “Are we prepared to ride through the night?”
Lucien retrieved a brace of pistols from his saddleback and handed them to Chase. “We are now.”
“Thanks.” Chase checked both pistols and slipped them into his coat pockets.
“It’s a miracle, truly,” Devlin muttered as he tightened the girth strap on his horse. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I know.” Chase squinted into the afternoon sun. “If I hadn’t seen Thomas with my own eyes, I never would have believed he was still alive.”
“No. I meant you and the general’s daughter.”
Damnation. He sucked in a hard breath. “I know what you’re both thinking—”
Lucien interrupted, “That a man would be daft to mess with her—”
“Because she knows how to use a pistol and most likely has a deadly aim,” Devlin finished.
Rolling his eyes at that bit of teasing, surely meant to distract him, he grumbled as he stepped forward to check his own horse’s saddle and bridle, “It isn’t what it looks like.”
“So you and Miss Albright haven’t holed up together, unchaperoned, at a posting inn for the past several days?” Devlin asked and flipped down the stirrup. “Because that’s what it looks like to me.”
“And if it’s not that,” Lucien pressed Chase, “then what is it?”
Double damnation. Chase couldn’t answer. He had no bloody idea himself. All he knew was that he had needed Tessa’s comfort and reassurance to face the past few days. God only knew what he would have done had she not been here.
He also knew his friends’ interrogation was simply a show of concern for him. But their interference grated. “She isn’t just some dalliance, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No, I don’t believe she is,” Devlin mumbled, casting an assessing gaze over Chase from hat to boots. “And that’s what has me concerned.”
Chase folded his arms and drawled, “Do you disapprove—a duke with a soldier’s daughter?” He’d never figured his two friends to turn snob. But then, both were now married with duchesses of their own and settled into the role of duke and all the prestige and powers accompanying it.
“Not at all,” Lucien answered as he swung up onto the back of his horse. “This country would be far better off if more dukes married soldiers’ daughters.”
“Agreed,” Devlin muttered. Then he added pointedly, “As long as those daughters know exactly what situations they’ve gotten themselves into, as long as their expectations are realistic.”
“They are,” Chase assured them. He had told her last night that he still planned to leave for Spain, and even Thomas’s return hadn’t changed his mind about that. Both Thomas and Tessa would be better off in England without him.
“Then be careful,” Lucien warned. He pressed his heels into his horse’s sides and set the gelding forward into a trot, then called out over his shoulder, “I wasn’t teasing when I said she knows how to use a pistol!”
Chase bit back a frustrated curse beneath his breath and tugged at his gloves, this time unsure how he kept from pushing his fingers right through the leather from pulling so hard. His narrowed gaze followed Lucien as his horse moved out of the yard and onto the road, turning north.
“She isn’t just some dalliance, damn it,” Chase repeated to Devlin. Then his shoulders sagged as he admitted, “I care about her.” And had no idea what to do about it.
“So you’re planning on marrying her, then?” Devlin broke the tension of the conversation by quirking a grin as he said, “I speak from personal experience when I say that marrying the completely wrong woman is a hell of a lot of fun.”
Marrying Tessa… His chest squeezed painfully at the thought, but he didn’t dare let himself ponder if his reaction was one of panic or pleasure. Instead, he answered, “I’m going to Spain, just as planned.” He fussed with his horse’s bridle. “It’s best for everyone.”
“Not for you.”
“It’s not about me.” After all, he didn’t matter compared to doing what was right for Tessa and Thomas. “I suppose you think I’ve gone mad.”
“I think you’re probably the most sane you’ve ever been in your life.” Devlin swung up onto his horse’s back and reined the gelding under control as it danced in a circle, anxious to be off after Lucien. “And selfish. For once in your life, you’re putting your own needs first, and it’s more than damn time you did.” He stopped the horse and leaned down to bring his eyes level with Chase’s. “But don’t be so selfish as to let your fear overrule your heart and take you away from her. You need her, and she loves you. One look at the two of you proves it.” He flipped up the collar of his coat and arched a brow in warning. “Just keep her away from the pistols.”
Then he spun the horse in a circle and let it gallop away after Lucien.
With a frustrated curse, Chase mounted his horse and rode after them.
He had Thomas to save first. Once the boy was safely back at Cuillin, then he could decide exactly how selfish he wanted to be…or didn’t.