Chapter 18
"Paisley!" Dominic called after her, but his voice was immediately swallowed up by the noise and chatter of the crowds. She disappeared too, a cluster of people stepping in front of her, then she was gone.
Annoyed, Dominic turned back to the earl. The man stared blankly back at him, acting as if he didn't recognize him.
"Oh, dear," Lord Ainsley said, his voice light. "I do hope it wasn't anything I said."
Dominic scowled. "We've met."
The man raised pale eyebrows in mild, polite surprise. "Oh? Have we?"
"Aye, we have. Ye came to me pub."
"Pub?" Lord Ainsley echoed, with that same mild expression that was now starting to rankle with Dominic. "I'm afraid I don't quite recall. I do apologize."
That was a slight, through and through. Dominic might not care for the manners and rules of the English ton, but he knew enough of them.
It was up to the person who was the social superior to claim acquaintance – or not.
By pretending not to know him, Lord Ainsley was acting as though Dominic was a grubby, pushy commoner.
What was more, he probably thought that Dominic was too stupid to understand the slight.
"I think I had better take my leave," Lord Ainsley said, making a polite and graceful bow. "Thank you for your hospitality."
Without waiting for a reply, he melted away into the crowd. Dominic watched him go, clenching his jaw.
"I daenae like that man," he said, once Lord Ainsley was out of sight. "He came to The Sinner, asking for Paisley, whether he admits it or not."
Catriona sucked her teeth. "Aye, and she got a fair start at the sight of him. He never did tell me how he got invited here. I'm nae sure he did get invited at all."
"It wouldnae surprise me. Wait here, Ma, I'll go find Paisley. I want her to tell me more about that man. He gives me the shivers."
"Aye, all right."
Catriona settled back in her seat, looking troubled, and Dominic struck out into the crowd, craning his neck to see Paisley's familiar golden-brown head.
He passed Thomas and Colby, hunched over a set of brandy glasses in the corner, drinking steadily.
"Did I hear right," Thomas burst out, grabbing Dominic's sleeve as he passed, "or are ye betrothed to that wee lassie in the pub? Paisley, the English girl?"
"Aye, I am, but she's gone missin'."
"Missin'? Did ye drive her off already?" Colby snorted, and Dominic silenced him with a glare.
"Some strange Englishman turned up and gave her a start. She went runnin' off, and now I can't find her."
Thomas was still chuckling at Colby's joke, but Colby's expression darkened.
"Well, she must be here somewhere, Dominic."
He snarled. "I know that. I've been searching for an hour, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of her."
Thomas finally sobered up. "Do ye think she's gotten lost? The Keep's a big place."
"I daenae know. Maybe."
"I'll get Veronica and Emma," Colby said, getting to his feet. "We'll search the Keep. Thomas, ye can search the stables and the grounds outside. Get some of the servants to help. Dae ye think there's any chance she could have gone outside, Dominic? Maybe she went home?"
He considered. "I daenae know. Maybe. It's dark out there now."
"Is she afraid of the dark, then?"
He gave a wry smile. "Nay, she isnae. I know where she's staying, so I'll go back there and see if she's gone home. Send me word if ye find her, aye?"
The men nodded in brusque agreement, and went their separate ways, each more serious and purposeful than before.
Dominic suppressed a superstitious fear. He didn't enjoy seeing his friends so worried and serious. He was the serious one. They were the cheerful, light-hearted ones. If they were worried – especially Thomas, who rarely took anything seriously – then there was cause to be worried.
She's just gotten lost, Dominic told himself firmly. Ye will find her, and then all will be well. She's probably feeling silly and a bit worried right about now, wandering down in the servants' halls or something. Everything will be fine. Just... just find her.
Outside, the cold took Dominic's breath away. He wished he'd thought to put on his cloak before he stepped out, but there was no way he was going back for it now.
He thought of Paisley's pretty, light-sleeved dress, and shivered in solidarity. If she was out here, she would be freezing. He walked a little faster.
Dominic checked inside his carriage first, just in case she'd thought to take herself back there, but he was disappointed. Leaving the carriage, he mounted a horse and set off into the darkness, towards the distant, glittering lights of the Crown.
Come on, lassie, Dominic thought, a twinge of panic sounding in his chest. Where are ye? What's going on? Show yourself.
He tried not to look at the dark woodland as he galloped past, imagining her lost and afraid in the darkness, catching her ankle on knotted roots and plunging headfirst off a cliff, just like she almost had the first time they met.
The pang in Dominic's chest only got more painful, and he was forced to admit that the idea of Paisley being hurt or miserable filled him with anxiety.
He wasn't used to that. Feeling anxiety or worry for other people – except, of course, for Thomas, Colby, and naturally his mother – seemed like a waste of time. Why bother?
But at some point, Paisley had wormed her way into his heart past all his prickly defenses, and now there was nothing to be done about it.
I wish I'd told her that I wanted her to be me real betrothed, he thought, a lump rising to his throat. I wish I'd told her before it's too late.
The horse stumbled on a pothole, snorting and tossing its head, and Dominic blinked moisture from his eyes, coming back to himself.
Focus, man. It's not too late. It's not too late. Just keep going, aye? She's got to be somewhere, and then we'll all laugh at how silly this all is.
Swallowing hard and blinking his stinging eyes, Dominic tapped his heels against the horse's flank, urging them faster onwards into the night.
The landlord was resolutely unhelpful as to whether Paisley had returned home or not.
"People come and go as they please," he grumbled. "How should I know."
Dominic gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to slap the man across his saggy jowls. "Well, can ye direct me to her room, please?"
"Aye, I can," the landlord said, helpfully offering directions.
Ignoring the impulse to point out the irony – talking so steadfastly about safety while blithely directing strange men to the rooms of two single women – Dominic turned on his heel and hurried towards the stairs.
He climbed flight after flight, finally coming to the attic room which apparently was shared by Paisley and Ava.
There was a beam of light coming out from underneath, and he felt himself relax.
She was home then, wasn't she? Ava would probably be out working, and Paisley must simply have come home after her fright.
Dominic's good mood evaporated rapidly when Ava answered the door. She lifted an eyebrow.
"Good to see ye too, Dominic," she said sarcastically. "Why are ye here? How did ye find out where I lived, anyway?"
"The landlord told me. Ye might want to kick his arse over that later, by the way. Where's Paisley?"
Ava blinked, frowning. "Paisley? She's out with ye. She went to that dance at the Keep. Ye haven't lost her, have ye?"
Dominic's vision blurred, and he suddenly felt dizzy. He clamped a hand onto the side of the doorframe to steady himself, squeezing his eyes closed.
"Dominic? Dominic, are ye all right?" came Ava's voice, anxious and seeming to come from very far away. "Here, come inside."
A pair of arms, stronger than one might have expected, hustled him inside and into a soft armchair by a warm fire. Dominic sat down heavily, trying to reorient himself.
A stool scraped across the floorboards, jerking him out of his dizziness. He blinked hard, clearing his vision in time to see Ava sitting down in front of him on a stool, her face set and serious.
"What happened?" Ava said, as soon as he met her eye. "Where's Paisley?"
"I think something is very wrong," Dominic gasped.
"Tell me."
"Everything was going well at the dance. Then Maither introduced us to an Englishman. Some rich, titled sod, ye know the type."
"Aye, I do. Go on."
Dominic raked a hand through his hair. He knew it would leave his curls sticking up haphazardly but couldn't find it in himself to care.
"Paisley was terrified of him. She went running off into the crowd. This was close to two hours ago, and we've been searching for her ever since. We can't find her."
Ava swallowed hard, her jaw clenching. "And this man, the strange Englishman? Where's he?"
"I daenae know. He left soon after."
"I see. What's his name?"
"Lord Ainsley. I thought perhaps he might be her faither, or brother, or..."
Ava let out a shocking curse, the type of curse that even Dominic balked at using. She leapt to her feet, pacing back and forth in front of the fire.
"That's not her faither or brother, ye fool!" she yelped. "That's the man that they're forcing her to marry! He's the one after her! She's terrified he'll catch her!"
The reality of the situation crashed over him, and Dominic felt as if he were going to throw up.
"He's taken her," he gasped. "He must have done."
An abrupt hammering came at the door, making them both jump.
"Who is it?" Ava shouted, snatching up the poker and holding it like a sword."
"It's me," came Thomas' muffled voice. "And Emma. We left Colby and Veronica at the Keep. They're still looking for her, but we know she's not there."
Cold fear ran through Dominic's veins. He gripped the sides of the armchair until his knuckles stood out white.
"Oh, everyone in, then," Ava muttered, replacing the poker. "Come in, since me landlord doesn't respect me privacy in the slightest. Come in, quickly."
Thomas and Emma stepped inside, white-faced and shaken.
They smelled of night air and horse sweat, the cold coming off them in waves.
Dominic took one look at their grim faces and knew that it wasn't good news.
He conjured up an image of Paisley, dead in a ditch with her throat cut from ear to ear, and squeezed his eyes closed.
"Tell them what ye saw, Emma," Thomas said grimly.
She took a deep breath and launched into her story.
"I was goin' along the hall with a patient, and Paisley passed me with a gentleman.
He was tall and a wee bit weaselly, wore a fine silk coat.
Blue, it was. She looked a bit strained, and I thought it was odd that she didn't greet me.
She dinnae even look at me, but I was preoccupied with me patient so I dinnae think much of it. "
"Was he draggin' her along? Was she afraid?" Dominic pressed.
Emma bit her lip. "Aye, I think she was afraid, but I didn't realize it at the time.
He wasn't pulling her or dragging her, but his hand was at her back, and he could have had a knife there.
That would explain why she didn't ask for help.
I'm so sorry, Dominic. If I'd done something, said something. .."
"He would have cut your throat and taken her anyway," Thomas said quickly.
"Dominic, listen. There's good news. The Englishman came in a fancy carriage, all silk and satin and fur on the inside, the showiest thing ye have ever seen.
Because of that, the stable lads were keeping a good eye on it.
Shortly after Paisley ran off, they saw the Englishman and Paisley get into the carriage and drive off.
They saw which way it headed. We can follow them.
If we ride, we might be able to catch up.
A carriage like that willnae be able to travel fast in the woods. "
"He took her into the woods?" Dominic muttered. "Just wait till I catch him."
There was a plan now. Feeling more energized, Dominic got to his feet.
"We're goin' after her, then?" Thomas said, lifting an eyebrow.
Dominic snarled. "Oh aye. And when I catch him, he'll wish he'd never set eyes on her, let alone laid hands on her."