Chapter 20 #2
The baby began to cry. Honora fought harder, straining to free just one of her hands to aim at the man’s face. Those efforts were no more successful than her attempts to kick the man. Then, she saw another carriage waiting behind them. The man began dragging her toward it.
“No!” She tried to turn back. The first man was standing at the front of the carriage they had been traveling in, holding a now shrieking Cecily with his back to Honora and his partner. “Please! I am begging you, give her back!”
No one answered. She did not understand what was happening, but she made one last desperate attempt to reason with the men.
“I will go wherever you want me to go, and I will do whatever you want,” she said, choking on tears. “I will give you everything we have. But please, give me back my baby. I swear, I will do anything you say if you just give her back to me.”
The man shoved Honora into the carriage. She hit the seat hard. Before she could rise, the door slammed. The carriage started moving much faster than she expected, and she slammed her face into the door as she was in the process of lunging at it when the driver lurched forward.
Honora threw herself against the window. “Cecily!” she screamed. She could no longer see the other carriage.
Strange men have taken my niece, she thought, her panic raw and frantic as she continued slamming into the door. They took my sister’s child, and I cannot get to her to protect her.
She gripped the door handle and pulled. Locked. She hammered against the wood.
“Stop, please?” she cried, as though the driver had not just witnessed the entire ordeal and done nothing to help then.
The driver did not stop, and the countryside blurred past the window. Honora pressed her hands against the glass and tried to understand what had happened.
She was aware that marauders lurked along country roads, looking for wealthy noblemen to rob.
But the men had not tried to steal anything.
In fact, the only thing they had taken was Cecily.
Or rather, they had taken Honora away from Cecily.
It was as if the only thing they had been interested in had been the child.
At first, nothing made any sense. Then, suddenly, everything did.
Isolde, the carriage, the polite voice, the kindness.
She closed her eyes, recalling how uneasy she had felt talking to Isolde that morning and the almost, though not quite, sincerity in her voice and smile.
She thought about finding her in Leopold’s study, where she had looked out of place standing behind his desk, and how quickly she had closed the file she had been reading when Honora looked.
But what did it all mean? Was Isolde trying to kidnap Cecily and claim her for her own?
Did she mean to have Cecily harmed and Honora framed for it? What was Isolde planning?
The journey’s destination was unknown to Honora, which made it seem endless, and it was all a blur.
By the time the carriage finally stopped, darkness had settled completely.
Honora’s body ached from the constant jolting.
Her hands hurt from gripping the seat. She cried herself empty during the journey and had no strength left.
The carriage door opened. A man stood outside. Honora’s heart raced. Was he about to kill her? Would anyone ever notice if she went missing?
“Out.”
Honora looked past him. She did not recognize the house. It was large but unfamiliar, surrounded by darkness and trees, no village lights, no road she knew, and no sign that she was anywhere near any place she found familiar.
“Where am I?”
There was, of course, no answer. The man took her arm. Honora resisted, summoning strength she did not know she could find.
“Where is the baby? Tell me where Cecily is.”
He said nothing, only pulled her toward the house. Honora fought long enough to stumble through the doorway. The hall was dark. No servants appeared, and no one spoke.
She was taken upstairs and pushed into a room.
It was illuminated only by the rising moonlight, and furnished only by a small table with a single drawer, a narrow cot with bedding balled up at the foot of it, and a seemingly empty wardrobe with one of its doors hanging on by a single hinge.
And in the middle of the cot sat a red-faced, dirt-streaked Cecily.
Honora stopped. The baby was crying. Honora rushed to her.
“Cecily.” She gathered her into her arms at once, and the baby clung to her, sobbing against her neck.
Honora held her tightly, holding back her own sobs of fear and relief. “I am here, darling. It is all right.”
The door slammed behind them. The lock clicked loudly.
Honora froze. She crossed the room and tried the handle, despite the sound she had just heard.
As she suspected, it was locked. She was grateful to be reunited with Cecily.
But now, the situation made even less sense.
Why had someone separated Cecily from Honora, just to send them to the same house? Why had they been abducted at all?
Honora sank to the floor with Cecily in her arms. The baby continued to cry. Honora pressed her cheek to the child’s hair.
“It is all right,” she said again. The words sounded false even to her. She rocked Cecily slowly. Outside the room, footsteps moved away.
Honora closed her eyes. She thought of Isolde standing in the entrance hall, her polite voice, her gentle expression, her offer of a carriage.
A kindness, she had called it.
Honora held Cecily tighter. It seemed ridiculous to think that Isolde had something to do with the current situation. Even if Isolde had been jealous of Honora for some reason, Honora’s leaving with Cecily would have removed her from Isolde’s life without any extra effort.
And whereas Honora had first thought that Isolde had intended to kidnap Cecily, she could now see that was untrue, as she now held Cecily once again.
More than ever, she was confused. It seemed that Isolde could not be behind their abduction.
And if it was not Isolde, who had orchestrated it? And why?