Chapter 20
Chapter 20
28th of January 1815
When Henry burst through the door of Hemel Hill, he did not remove his great coat or turn for the butler’s aid. Instead, he continued towards his study. “Where the devil is my wife?” he bellowed.
“Your Grace, we do not know,” said Mr. Jensen, the butler, scurrying beside him. “The men who were with her are in their bedchambers. One, Jacob, has awakened but remembers nothing. He said they were emerging from the grotto when he had a sharp pain to the back of his head. The next he knew, he awakened here.”
Charles entered behind him and glanced about them. After Henry signed what Mr. Jensen had told him, Charles looked to the man. “What has been done to find her?”
“We have sent word to the constable.”
“What of Bow Street?” asked Henry. “They investigated when the girls were discovered by Her Grace in Hyde Park. This could be related.”
“I agree,” signed Charles.
Although the butler had learnt some of the language they were using, he would falter often, so Henry ensured Charles was not left out of the conversation.
“I shall pen a note, and I want it brought to town without delay. Do you understand?”
Jensen nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“We should see where she was taken,” said Charles. “Perhaps from there, we can determine where they went? After all, they would have needed more than one miscreant to attack two armed men and grab her.”
Henry had started for the door before his brother had finished his suggestion. Naught was said between the house and the path that led to the exit of the grotto.
Just before they reached the edge of the wood, Charles gave him a nudge into the grass. “If we have any hope of tracking them, we do not want to obscure their footprints.”
“Yet, those who have been here before us have left their own. They could have made tracing them impossible.” What if they could gain nothing to be of aid? Where would they start? Jane could be anywhere.
They followed the steps down but on the rocks along the edge, watching the path as they descended. At the door, the dirt was disturbed and the flattened places where the bodies of his men had lain were obvious, even the imprint of a forehead upon the earth. Unfortunately, any traces of other prints had been trampled to death.
While Henry stared at the spot, his chest constricted, and his heart strained to beat within the tight confines. Good God. What was he to do? He had to find Jane before Simon or whoever it was harmed her or the babe—or heaven help him—both.
“Henry!”
At his brother’s call, he hastened over and followed Charles’s pointed finger to the ground.
“Jane faced behind her. You can tell the prints are hers because they are the smallest. I would guess she was here when her guards were attacked. I wonder why she had not noticed the villains before now. She was a good ten yards from the exit.”
His head lifted as he searched the canopy of the trees. “If the time of day is right, the sun peeks through the branches above just so and will blind someone for a moment until their eyes adjust. Jane knows this walk well. She likely kept going until she had reason to turn.”
“The sound of the footmen being hit?”
He nodded. “Or them crumpling to the ground.”
His brother’s fingers followed the evidence of Jane’s movements. “She backed a couple of small steps, but her next footprint after is there.” Charles shifted his pointing finger to the next boot mark. “She took a large step forward, so she turned as quickly as she could. The toe is also a little deeper than the heel.”
“She pressed forward with more force than if she were merely walking.”
After chewing on his cheek for a moment, Charles tipped his head back and forth. “Maybe, but that could also be from climbing the stairs or the added weight of the babe. We would need to find prints on the other side to be sure, but my guess is she tried to run.” His brother had always been better at tracking animals than him. How many times had Charles followed the hoofprints of the deer at Clitheroe to locate the herd? He had learnt from the gamekeeper as a boy and would accompany the man out to ensure the herd was not being hunted too vigorously.
As they climbed, Jane’s footprints were easy to discern from those around them. They continued to be deeper and sometimes appeared as though she stumbled some to the side—not surprising with the weight of the babe interfering with her balance.
“They caught her up here,” said Charles. “She did well when you consider her size and how painful her ankles have been.”
“How did you know about her ankles?”
“Henry, you may keep them covered, but in the evenings when we are in the library, you oft times sit upon the hassock with her feet in your lap and rub her feet and ankles.”
His brother seemed to notice everything, it seemed. “I had not considered. They are quite swollen, but Jane and the midwife say it happens with all ladies before confinement.”
At the top step where the trees cleared, two larger sets of prints surrounded Jane’s. Theirs continued to the grass where they were obscured. Any evidence of them passing in the grass would no longer be visible unless the earth was soft, which it was not.
“Blast!”
His brother had continued, so Henry followed behind so if some sign of them was present, he would not damage it. Charles would stop here and there, sometimes changing directions, then pointing to a broken tree branch or a print in a patch of mud that had survived in the shade after the last of the snow and ice melting.
After walking for about ten minutes, they happened upon a clearing with ruts in the dirt as well as hoof prints and horse manure.
“The ruts are too close together to be a cart,” said Charles.
Henry stared at them then raked his hand through his hair as he surveyed what was around them. He inhaled sharply. After putting his hand on Charles’s shoulder to garner his attention, he pointed. “I have ridden here. This leads to the main road, which is heavily travelled. Even if we know they journeyed this way, we shall likely lose them where the roads join.” Tracking them had been for naught!
His brother wagged his finger in front of him. “But if we can tell in which direction they turned, we shall know where to look. If they turned towards London, then we can return to Albemarle House to continue the search. If they turned another direction, we would need to take our search to the countryside, checking the inns for any sign of them.”
Henry swayed in his spot. Lord, he was going to be sick! This was all wrong. Janey should be sitting in front of the fire in the library with her needlework, her feet propped on the hassock and complaining of the heat of the fire. What was he going to do? What if they could not find her? Good God, what was he to tell his daughters?
The bile rose in his throat, but it was too much to contain. He hastened to the nearest tree and cast up his accounts. He could not do without his wife! His eyes burned, and he took a great inhale then exhaled long and slow to keep from sobbing. He could not give in or succumb to his despair. If he did, he was certain to never have Jane returned to him.
He shook himself. If they disappeared into the country, how was he to find them? Simon, while not always bright, could be cunning. Would they stop at inns, or would he have arranged fresh horses or carriages along the road? If he had, they may never find any trace of Jane until it was too late. Simon would want her found after—.
“Do not think the worst before we know,” said Charles, who gripped his shoulder.
Only sheer will kept him on his feet. A part of him would welcome dropping to the ground and giving in to that ache in his heart, but such a response would not find Jane—and they had to find Jane!
From where they were, their return to the house took a good quarter-hour, but they did not go inside. Instead, they made their way to the stables and had mounts readied with more haste than usual.
Within another quarter-hour, they had returned to the site of the carriage ruts and followed them to the small road, that as Henry remembered led to the main road, which led into the nearest village and the town beyond. At the main road, they dismounted and stared at fresh ruts where the carriage was turned too close to the edge and veered into the verges making deep grooves in the thick mud left over from the melting snow.
“They journeyed towards London.” Charles looked over his shoulder to Henry. “We need to return. You can summon the investigators from Albemarle House.”
After they turned their mounts and took the more direct way to Hemel Hill, a thousand matters spun in Henry’s mind. His daughters would need to remain at Hemel Hill. He did not want them to know about Jane’s disappearance, and they had more room within the house for play and exercise since they would not be venturing out of doors. He saw no need to frighten them or bring back nightmares from their time in Hyde Park, but they would be kept safe. He could not concentrate on finding Janey if he had to worry over them as well.
Although his heart protested, he would need to let Miss Fletcher tell them he took Jane to town for her company while he attended business. If he did so himself, the girls would not understand why his wife had not come to say her own goodbyes. At Clitheroe, she had sought the girls out and kissed them before she visited tenants. His daughters were precocious and bright. They would know something was amiss. It was not in Jane’s nature to ignore them.
The constable awaited him at Hemel Hill when they arrived, and once the man was informed of the particulars, they departed for London before their trunks could be packed and loaded onto the equipage. That way, they would reach Albemarle House by dinner. They had no time to waste!
31st of January 1815
“Where could they be?” Henry hurled a glass dish from the table into the fire, smashing it against the brick behind the flames.
The heavy hand of his brother landed upon his shoulder. “You must calm yourself. We shall find them. The investigators stopped at every inn between here and Hemel Hill. They also found where they believe the kidnappers swapped carriages. Why else would there be ruts in the mud from two carriages side by side along the road to London?”
“It has been three days, Charles.” He dropped into the chair at his desk and let his head collapse into his hands. The worst could not be said aloud. After all, if the worst came to pass, he would be a widower once again. This time, though, his heart was engaged—hell, his heart was no longer his own. This time, he would never recover.
The rapper sounded upon the door, and within moments, voices filled the hall. He lifted his head. “Someone is here,” he signed.
Charles led the way to the hall where Lord Richmond, Darcy, and Sir Antony Greene were shedding their coats.
“I know if Nicholas had returned from Ireland, he would be here as well,” said Richmond.
After the disastrous crossing in June and Lady Fiona’s expectant state in the autumn when they would have returned, Hatton’s letters had declared they would remain at Moydrum until autumn this year, giving time for Lady Fiona’s confinement and the babe to be old enough to make the journey. Lady Hatton would now be at a similar stage as his Janey. They had received no word from Ireland of a birth, so he assumed Lady Hatton had not entered her confinement as yet.
Darcy clapped him on the shoulder. “Thankfully, we were at Dereham when the express came. Greene and I set out immediately, of course, but Amelia and Elizabeth are following with the children. Thankfully, both Alexander and Sophie manage well in a carriage. They should arrive tomorrow.”
Mrs. Darcy had delivered a healthy baby girl during their fortnight at Pemberley. Janey had been over the moon to be of aid to her beloved sister during that time.
“If they do not need to stop for Amelia to settle her stomach,” said Greene as they made their way back into Henry’s study. “Travelling when she was with child last time was difficult for her. My driver will break their journey at a reputable inn should she become too ill to continue, but knowing my wife’s obstinacy, she will insist they continue and carry a pail within the carriage. She can be as stubborn as a mule when required, and I shall never forget the pallor of Amy’s and Lizzy’s complexions when we read that express. I am certain they are doing all they can to convince my driver to lengthen each day’s journey in order to hasten their arrival, but the days are short this time of year.”
“They will do whatever they must, but in the meantime, what can we do?” asked Darcy. “We are at your disposal until Jane is found.”
“The investigators believe them to be in London.” Charles had spoken up before Henry had the chance.
Greene winced. “But the city is enormous and there are thousands of places they could hide her.”
“Better than the country,” said Darcy. “We would have a devil of a time finding them. They could go anywhere.”
Henry swayed on his feet before Richmond clapped his hands down upon his shoulders. “We shall find her, son. Do not give up.”
“I cannot give up.” He almost growled out the words.
Darcy leaned against the desk. “Early this morning, my cousin and I paid a call on a woman who was once Georgiana’s companion—a disreputable woman we were misled about—and enquired if she had heard any rumours of a duke’s wife who was kidnapped. She knew nothing, but I promised her a generous reward should any information she provide lead to Jane’s recovery.”
Henry’s head bobbed up and down with such vigour it caused further pain in his throbbing temples. “I would pay anything.”
“I did not think you would object. My cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, who is a colonel in the Regulars, wished me to tell you his services as well as whatever he can provide are at your disposal.”
“Have I met your cousin?” At this moment, he could not recall.
“He attended your wedding. You met so many of us that day, I am not surprised you do not remember him. After all, you were in his company but once and for a brief time. He has been acquainted with your wife, however, since before I wed Elizabeth. Whether by blood or marriage, Richard has no qualms about protecting family.”
“Pray, give him my thanks. We shall certainly include him should we be of need.”
“In the meantime,” said Richmond. “We have all met with our household servants. At your suspicion of your brother, we asked they listen for any gossip of Lord Bath or our Janey. Those at Richmond House, in particular, are overwrought. They would do anything to be of aid, and besides, you never know what a footman or maid might overhear?”
Henry’s head shot up. “I had not thought of that.”
Greene lifted his hand. “I shall speak to your housekeeper if you wish. What is her name?”
“Mrs. Tanner.”
Once Greene departed, the rest stood in silence for a moment before Richmond gave an abrupt inhale. “We need to consider your brother’s habits. Where does he go? Have you called at his house?”
“I feared I would wring his neck,” said Henry in a hard tone. “I have servants watching Simon’s house night and day, and they have taken note of the Runners doing the same. Let us hope he cannot slip away with such scrutiny upon him.
Richmond glanced at those about them. “You should make the call. What if your prodding prompts him to err? He could reveal Jane’s whereabouts. We shall all accompany you. You need not even speak should you not wish it.”
Henry looked to his brother. “I do not want Charles to go. We have managed to minimise the gossip of Charles’s hearing or lack thereof, and I do not want Simon to discover it. At the very least, he would torment Charles. But I expect that he would question my brother’s fitness as master of his estate. In my father’s will, if Charles dies before Simon, Charles’s estate and holdings go to Simon instead of reverting to the dukedom. I do not trust him not to take advantage of the knowledge. He may take legal action to declare Charles incompetent have him stripped of his lands.”
“You will have me, Darcy, and Greene. I believe your brother can remain behind,” said Richmond.
Charles did not appear insulted at his exclusion nor surprised by Henry’s concerns. “Someone will need to remain in the event the investigators come. I have met with them before, so it should be me.” He made a good argument as well.
The moment Greene returned from below stairs, they left Charles and climbed into Richmond’s carriage. When the door was closed and they had begun moving, Henry dropped his head back into the squabs.
“Richmond?”
“Yes, son.”
“The midwife expects her confinement to be any day now.”
The older man, who sat beside him, covered Henry’s hand with his and squeezed. “I understand. We will find her.”