Chapter Seventeen #3
“Two men. Foreigners. They tied up both of us, then one passed Nicky through the window to the other, and then I got shoved in the wardrobe.”
Gabe glanced at the rope. “They must have taken him across the rooftops. But why?”
Callie moaned. Gabe grabbed her by the shoulders. “Listen to me! If they’ve taken Nicky, they must mean to keep him alive!”
She stared at him blankly. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but it would have been easier to slit both boys’ throats while they lay sleeping. They didn’t, so they want Nicky alive.”
Faint color stole back into her cheeks.
Gabe hoped to hell he was right. He turned back to Jim. “How long ago was it?”
Jim shook his head, his face scrunched with distress. “I dunno, sir.”
“Tibby checked the boys around eleven,” Ethan said. “So, sometime in the last three hours.”
“I took the dog downstairs to do his business afterward,” Tibby confessed, almost in tears. “And then Ethan came looking for me, and I left the dog shut out in the garden. If I’d only—”
“Never mind,” Gabe interrupted her. “The count, Nash, where was he staying?”
“Not sure. With the Esterhazys, I think.”
“Right, we’ll start there. Ethan, get the horses saddled. Harry, lend me a pair of riding boots.” The others hurried off to obey his orders. Gabe followed, then halted when he saw her; Callie stood huddled against the wall, frozen-looking and tragic.
Gabe couldn’t bear it. She’d married him for one reason only: because he’d sworn to protect her child. He’d failed her.
Gabe seized her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said urgently, “but I will find him, I promise you.”
She gave him a frozen look.
“I promise you,” Gabe said, and with a last desperate gesture he kissed her hard on the mouth and went into Harry’s room, stripping off his evening trousers and coat almost before he was in the door.
She followed. “What are you doing?”
“Changing into my riding buckskins—or rather, Harry’s. Can’t ride in evening clothes—no flexibility—and mine would take too long to fetch.” Harry handed him a pair of riding boots and he pulled them on. “Good thing we’re the same size.”
He raced down the stairs, shouting at Sprotton. “Are the horses here yet, dammit?”
“Any moment, sir.” Sprotton snapped his fingers and a footman ran out into the street to look.
Ethan, Rafe, Nash, Luke, and Harry were all in riding clothes, she saw. “What are you all doing?”
“Going after them, of course.”
“I’m coming, too,” Callie said.
“You can’t,” Gabe said brusquely. “You’ll slow us down.”
She stared at him, agonized, knowing he was right. But how could she bear to wait, helpless, not knowing?
“I’ll take her,” Harry said to Gabe. “We’ll follow in the curricle.”
Callie flung him a grateful look and looked at Gabriel. “Please. I will go mad, otherwise.”
He sighed. “All right. Sprotton, tell the stables we need the curricle and the grays, at once.” He snapped his fingers and a footman went running.
“It’ll be cold in the curricle. You must take my cloak,” Lady Gosforth said. “Sprotton, fetch my fur cloak.”
“Immediately, my lady,” said Sprotton, and a maid went running off to fetch it.
Gabe turned to Harry and said in a low, urgent voice. “Look after her for me, brother. She is my life!”
Harry nodded. “I know.”
Callie blinked. Had he said “wife,” or “life”? But he was gone, Ethan, Rafe, Luke, and Nash with him, galloping down the street.
Shaken, she managed to gather her thoughts together. She drew Lady Gosforth aside. “Do you have a pistol I could borrow? I’m going to kill that man.”
“Who, my nephew?” Lady Gosforth exclaimed, shocked.
“No, of course not! I love your nephew. It’s Count Anton I’m going to kill.”
Lady Gosforth’s face cleared. “Well, in that case, by Jove, I do. Sprotton, fetch me my pistol. And make sure it’s loaded.”
“At once, my lady,” Sprotton said, and a footman went running.
The footman and two maids arrived at the same time, the footman with a case containing a tiny muff pistol, one maid carrying an enormous sable cloak and the other carrying a small bag.
“Just a change of clothes and a few other necessities,” the girl told Callie, passing it to a footman to put in the curricle.
“Good thinking, that gel,” declared Lady Gosforth approvingly.
The curricle and grays arrived at the front door. Callie kissed Lady Gosforth and said, “Take care of Tibby and Jim for me. And thank you for everything.” Harry helped her up and in moments they were off, following Gabe to the Esterhazy residence.
Gabe spurred his horse along the road, followed by Rafe, Luke, Nash, and Ethan.
His face was grim. He was furious with himself.
He should have taken more care, should have thought that kidnappers might come across the roof in the night.
He’d been so busy trying to seduce the mother, he’d forgotten that his marriage was all about the child.
She’d asked just one thing of him: protect her boy.
He’d failed her. He’d failed Nicky. And he’d failed himself.
There was no chance she would ever love him now. Her couldn’t blame her.
He thought of Nicky, in the hands of that smiling devil. He was gripped with cold rage, at himself, as well as Count Anton. Nicky was such a gallant little boy, so bright and full of pluck, it made Gabe sick to think of him in the hands of the count.
Where was that devil taking him? And for what purpose?
He could think of at least one reason why Nicky had been taken alive; if there was no body, you could not prove murder.
On the other hand without a body, the count could not inherit for at least seven years. Gabe kept telling himself that.
Arriving at the Austrian ambassador’s, they pounded on the door until someone came to open it. Gabe pushed his way inside. “Where is Count Anton?” he demanded.
Servants came running to eject them, but confronted with five tall, angry gentleman men they hesitated.
“Count Anton—where is he?” Gabe growled.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” The ambassador, Prince Esterhazy himself, came down the stairs, dressed in a gorgeously embroidered dressing robe. He was accompanied by a number of guards. Recognizing Gabe, he frowned and waved the guards back.
“By what right do you come shouting and brawling into my house, Renfrew?” His cold glance took in the others. When he saw Nash his brows rose even higher.
“A matter of the utmost urgency. Where is Count Anton?” Gabe demanded.
The ambassador glared at Gabe. “If it’s any business of yours, he left. He was called away suddenly. But—”
“Called away? Where to?”
“Zindaria. But—”
“To his yacht?” asked Nash. He turned to Gabe. “We’ve been having it watched. It was moored at Dover two days ago.” He turned back to the ambassador. “So was he going to his yacht in Dover?”
“I expect so,” the ambassador said impatiently. “I shall complain to your government about this invasion—”
“Do that,” said Gabe as he left. “And then explain why your houseguest kidnapped a seven-year-old child—the crown prince of Zindaria—from his bed in the middle of the night!”
“What do you mean, kidnapped a child? He can’t possibly—” the ambassador began, but Gabe did not stay to listen. By the time the ambassador had finished his sentence Gabe was thundering down the road, riding as though the devil were after him.
But the devil was ahead. With a seven-year-old child in his power.
The curricle pulled up outside the Esterhazy residence. Harry jumped down, peered at some marks on the pavement under the gas lamp, then swung himself back up into the curricle and snapped the reins.
“Where are we going now?” Callie asked.
“Dover.”
“How do you know that’s where they’re going?”
He jerked his head at the pavement. “Rafe left a note in chalk. He always used to do that when we were in the army. Only time it fails is when it rains.” He gave her a quick grin. “Good thing the weather has cleared up, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “You think Nicky’s going to die, don’t you?”
“No!” He looked shocked. “What the hell are you thinking those kind of thoughts for? Stop it at once. Gabe will get him back.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “Once Gabe sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him.”
Harry put his arm around her to steady her as they swung sharply around the corner. “It will be better if you hold onto my arm from now on,” he told her. “I’m going as fast as I can and if we hit a bump, you’ll go flying unless you’re anchored.”
She slipped an arm through his and hung on. His solid warmth was comforting.
“You meant it, didn’t you?” Harry asked after a time.
“Meant what?”
“What you said to Aunt Maude back there. That you love my brother.”
“Of course I meant it.”
“Even though he didn’t protect Nicky?”
She turned a shocked face toward him. “It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I was the one who goaded Count Anton to—”
“Nonsense,” Harry cut her off bluntly. “That job took a lot of planning. He had his plan in place long before you said a word to him. It wasn’t you at all. But it was Gabe’s job to protect Nicky and he botched it. And yet you still say you love him?”
Callie was shocked by his simplistic view of things. “Is that what you think Gabriel expects? That if he fails, I would stop loving him?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I won’t. What sort of a love is it that treats everything as a test? If he—if he fails, I will need him more than—” her voice broke.
Harry covered her hand with his and patted her. “Don’t worry,” he said gruffly. “He’ll bring Nicky back to you.”
“Yes, yes, I know he will,” she said, trying to stay positive. She stared out into the black night and prayed for her son and the man she loved to be returned to her safe and sound.
She needed quite desperately to hold them in her arms and know they were safe. Both of them.
The lights of London were behind Gabe now. The notorious Black Heath lay a short distance ahead. Footpads, highwaymen, all kinds of criminals lurked on the wild heathland, picking off coaches and lone travelers.
Gabe was some miles ahead of the others, thanks to Trojan’s speed, stamina, and great heart. The others had been forced to make do with whatever horses were in Lady Gosforth’s stables.
But even Trojan was tiring. Gabe would have to get a fresh horse soon, perhaps at Rochester, on the other side of the heath. There was a livery stable there, he recalled.
He pressed on. He had to catch up with them before the count reached the yacht.
Once the yacht cast off, it was anyone’s guess where he’d take Nicky.
He couldn’t believe the count had gone to all this trouble to return Nicky to Zindaria.
All kinds of possibilities chased through Gabe’s mind.
The boy could be sold into slavery, put on the galleys, tossed overboard…
But the count would need a body before he could inherit the throne.
Whatever he planned, it had to look natural.
Was that his plan, return Nicky to Zindaria, let a few people see him, and then…
another dose of poisoned milk? Dreadful as it seemed, the thought was almost reassuring.
It would give Gabe more time to reach them.
He reached Black Heath but didn’t slacken his pace. It was a fine, bright night and the road ahead was clear. The areas with scrubby vegetation were the danger spots. His pistols were primed and ready. If there were footpads, he would be ready for them.
Trojan was blowing hard, so Gabe slowed his pace to a fast trot. He glimpsed a movement up ahead. Gabe narrowed his eyes but the moon chose that moment to slip behind clouds. He pulled out a pistol and continued on his way, keeping a wary eye out.
He heard it before he saw it, one horse, coming fast, heading directly toward him. He pulled Trojan up to the side of the road, cocked his pistol, and waited.
The horse came closer and closer. Gabe frowned. He could hardly see the rider. He must be lying down along the horse’s neck. Tricky devils, highwaymen.
The horse was almost upon him. Gabe lifted his pistol just as the moon came out. The moonlight glinted on its barrel.
“Mr. Renfrew, don’t shoot!” a thin, high voice screamed. “It’s me, Nicky. I escaped!”