Chapter 26
Gabriel had barely finished giving orders when the servants began searching every corridor, chamber, and outbuilding.
Men were sent into the gardens with lanterns, the stable boys were questioned, and the guards were ordered to seal every entrance while the dowager took charge of the frightened household.
Gabriel could not afford to stand there imagining what might have happened to Sophie, because every second mattered. He strode through the house toward the stable yard with Eleanor close behind him.
“You should remain here,” he instructed.
“No.”
Gabriel turned. She was pale, her hair hastily pinned, but there was something steady in her that stopped the protest he had been about to make.
“Eleanor—”
“I am coming with you.”
“This could be dangerous.”
“I know, but she is my daughter. I almost lost her once, and I will not allow it to happen now either.”
He looked at her for several seconds. Once, he might have ordered her to stay behind and convinced himself that keeping her away from danger was the same as protecting her. He had learned too much since then.
“Very well,” he said as he held out his hand. “Then stay beside me.”
She took it. The stable yard was already in confusion. Two grooms stood near the stalls, both talking at once, while one of the guards was examining the ground near the side entrance. Gabriel crossed toward them.
“What happened?”
The older groom swallowed. “The side gate, Sir.”
Gabriel followed his gaze. The gate stood crooked on its hinges. One of the wooden bars had been split, and the lock hung broken against the post. The entry had clearly been forced.
“How many horses are missing?”
The groom looked toward the stalls. “One. Your bay gelding.”
His jaw tightened. The horse was strong, fast, and accustomed to long rides. Whoever had taken him had known exactly what they needed, though of course he did not doubt for a moment who it had been.
“Was anyone seen?”
“No, Sir.”
“Did the guards hear anything?”
“They heard a noise near the gate, but by the time they reached it, the horse was already gone.”
Eleanor stepped closer.
“Julian,” she muttered.
Gabriel looked at her. Neither of them needed to say more. Julian had lost the trial. He had lost his witnesses, his reputation, and whatever lawful claim he had hoped to make to Sophie. He had disappeared rather than face the consequences of his disgrace, and now Sophie was gone.
Gabriel looked again at the broken gate.
“This was planned,” Eleanor said as her fingers tightened around his arm. “He had nowhere else to turn.”
The thought chilled him. The open nursery window had not been an impulsive entry, and the missing horse had not been an accident. Julian had waited until the household believed the danger had passed, then chosen the moment when everyone had relaxed.
Gabriel turned sharply.
“Send a rider for the investigator.”
One of the guards nodded and hurried away.
“How long will it take?” he asked.
“Perhaps ten minutes.”
“That will be too long.”
Gabriel moved toward the nearest saddled horse, and Eleanor followed.
“I am coming.”
“I know.”
There was no argument this time.
He helped her into the saddle himself, then mounted his own horse and turned toward the broken gate. Behind them, Beatrice hurried into the yard with Cassandra and the dowager.
“You cannot leave without knowing where you are going,” Beatrice called.
“We are following the trail. There are hoofprints to follow.”
His mother’s expression was grim. “Go, Gabriel. Bring Sophie home.”
“I will.”
Eleanor turned her horse beside his, and his mother caught her eye.
“Do not let him ride into danger alone.”
Eleanor managed a strained smile. “I have no intention of doing so.”
Not wanting to waste another moment, Gabriel turned his horse toward the road.
“Stay close,” he instructed Eleanor.
She urged her horse forward beside him, and they rode through the broken gate together. The morning air was cold against Gabriel’s face, and he leaned forward in the saddle. Whoever had taken Sophie had believed they could outrun him, and they were wrong.
Beside him, Eleanor rode in silence, her face set toward the road ahead.
The trail carried them east for nearly an hour before the first challenge appeared.
Gabriel had expected the hoofprints to remain clear after leaving the estate, but the damp earth soon gave way to a harder stretch of road where the marks became indistinct.
They followed what little they could find until the road divided near a small coaching inn, where the investigator’s men had already begun questioning the stable hands.
Gabriel dismounted.
“Has anyone seen a man traveling with a child?”
The innkeeper shook his head. “Not this morning.”
“What about during the night?”
The man hesitated. “Several travelers passed through, but none of them had a little girl with them.”
Eleanor had dismounted beside him. Her face had gone pale beneath the cold morning air.
“Please think carefully,” she said. “She is seven years old, with dark curls and gray eyes. She would have been frightened.”
The innkeeper frowned as he tried to remember.
“I am sorry, my lady. I saw no child.”
Gabriel looked toward the stable yard. “Were any horses hired?”
“One horse was changed before dawn. They traveled north perhaps three hours ago.”
Gabriel swore under his breath. They had already lost time. He turned to the investigator’s man.
“Find out what horse was taken and whether anyone remembers the rider.”
The man hurried away. Eleanor remained beside Gabriel, staring at the road.
“What if they stopped here?”
“They may have, but we cannot know.”
He noticed then that she was trembling, and wrapped an arm around her.
“We will keep going.”
“And if we do not find them?”
He could not offer her a promise he could not guarantee. Instead, he tightened his grip slightly and hoped it would bring her comfort.
By midday, the trail led them toward an old hunting box belonging to one of Julian’s former acquaintances.
Gabriel had expected to find some evidence there, but the building stood empty.
The fire had long since gone cold, dust covered the tables, and the stable contained no horses.
There was no sign that anyone had been there recently.
Eleanor entered behind Gabriel and looked around the deserted room. He opened a cupboard, checked the cellar, and examined the back entrance. There was no trace of Julian or Sophie.
Eleanor stood in the doorway, tears in her eyes.
“Eleanor, I know this is terrifying for you, but if it brings you any comfort, at least Julian needs Sophie alive.”
The words seemed to steady her for a moment.
“He needs her as leverage,” she whispered.
“Exactly.” Gabriel nodded as he took her face gently between his hands. “We will not let him hurt her.”
Eleanor closed her eyes. “I am frightened.”
“So am I.”
She opened them again. The admission seemed to affect her more than any reassurance could have done.
“You are?”
“I have been terrified since I saw that empty bed. I kept thinking I had protected her. I thought the trial was over and that I had finally made this house safe.”
“You did everything you could.”
“It was not enough.”
“It was never something you could control.”
He lowered his hands, but Eleanor caught one before he could pull away.
“Do not shut me out now.”
His eyes met hers. “I will not.”
They remained there for a moment in the silent hunting box, their hands joined between them.
***
The journey became harder as the afternoon wore on. They followed one false lead after another.
A farmer remembered seeing a rider on the eastern road, only for the description to prove wrong.
A stable boy recalled a man carrying a bundle, but they later learned that the sighting had occurred two days earlier.
At another inn, the landlord insisted that a child had been brought through during the night, only to admit that he had confused Sophie with a traveler’s daughter.
Each failure tightened the fear between them. Eleanor stopped speaking for long stretches, and Gabriel could see the effort she made to remain composed. When she finally began to tremble from exhaustion, he ordered a brief halt.
“You need to rest.”
“I cannot.”
“You have been riding since before dawn.”
She looked away. “I cannot sit still.”
“I know.”
He dismounted and helped her down. They stood beside the road while their horses drank, and suddenly Eleanor pressed both hands against her face.
“I keep seeing her bed. I keep thinking that she might be calling for me.”
His chest tightened.
“Do you think she is frightened?” she asked.
“I think she knows that we are coming. She knows us.”
He drew her into his arms. Eleanor resisted for only a heartbeat before collapsing against him.
“I cannot lose her.”
“You will not.”
She clutched his coat. Gabriel held her tightly, resting his cheek against her hair. The fear that had been building inside him since dawn finally broke through the discipline he had maintained for hours.
“I cannot lose either of you.”
Eleanor went still. He closed his eyes.
“I should have told you sooner just how frightened I am—how much you both mean to me.”
Her eyes searched his.
“You do not have to be strong every moment,” she whispered.
The words undid him. He covered her hand with his.
“I love you,” he said simply.
It was not the grand declaration that he had wanted it to be, but Eleanor’s eyes filled again at once.
“I love you too.”
They remained close for several seconds, neither willing to step away. The road stretched empty behind them, the horses shifted impatiently nearby, and the wind moved through the bare branches overhead.
There was no room left for pride between them, no room for the old misunderstandings or the careful distance they had maintained. Eleanor leaned her forehead against him.
“I will bring her home,” he promised, “and then I am never letting another day pass without telling you exactly what you mean to me.”
A faint, trembling smile appeared on her lips at last.
For a little while, they remained that way, neither speaking. The fear did not disappear, but it became bearable because neither of them was carrying it alone.
Then one of the riders called from the road. Gabriel lifted his head too see that another horse was approaching. The investigator was riding hard, and beside him came a man Gabriel did not recognize at first. He was thinner than he remembered, his face weathered and his clothes worn.
The investigator dismounted before the horse had even come to a stop. He looked exhausted, but also triumphant, and Gabriel trusted that was a good sign.
“We found him,” the rider announced.
The other man dismounted in turn and removed his hat, and Gabriel knew precisely who he was.
“Jem Carter,” the man greeted. “I heard what happened to the child.”
Gabriel stepped toward him. There were so many thoughts in his head, and so much that he wanted to say to Carter, but there was a far more pressing matter at hand. Their personal issues could be discussed once they had Sophie again.
“Do you know where she is?”
“No, but I may know where Julian would take her.”
Gabriel went still. Carter glanced toward the darkening road.
“On the hunting trip, Julian told me about a second property. I had forgotten it until your man described the road you were following.”
“What property?” Eleanor asked. “I have never known of any properties here besides his place of residence.”
“It is a small house beyond the old quarry. He kept it hidden from most of his family, and I did not understand why until recently.”
Gabriel’s eyes sharpened. It was a relief to finally know where Carter was, but that did not mean he trusted him.
“Why did you not tell anyone before?”
“Because I was afraid of Julian, and of what I had helped him do.”
The last light was fading from the sky. Eleanor looked toward Gabriel, and he could tell that she did not care at that moment what had happened in the past. All she cared about was rescuing her daughter.
“Sophie could be there.”
“She could,” Gabriel agreed, turning toward the investigator. “How far away is it?”
“Less than two hours if we ride hard.”
Gabriel looked at Eleanor, who was already reaching for her reins.
“Then we ride.”
He mounted, and Carter followed.
The horses were brought forward, and within minutes the small party was moving again into the gathering darkness, following the road toward the property no one had thought to search.
For the first time since dawn, Gabriel felt something stronger than the fear that had gripped him since he heard Eleanor calling his name.
He felt hope.