Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Laurence! Laurence?”
The sound of Madalene’s panicked tone had him turning away at once from the boring, older earl who had held his attention captive for the last few minutes. Forgetting pleasantries, Laurence walked away from the man who was so intent on discussing investments, and hurried toward his sister.
“Where is Ellen?” he demanded, noticing at once that Madalene was alone.
His sister’s eyes filled with regret and tears as she shook her head.
“She is gone,” she rasped. “I swear, I just turned away for a moment, then she was gone.”
Laurence snarled out a curse as he stalked for the terrace, hating himself for agreeing to allow the two of them to go off on their own in the first place.
“What can I do?” Madalene asked, hurrying behind him.
“Find Solomon,” he snapped, not bothering to look back at her. “Now.”
He did not check to see if she obeyed or not, but kept walking toward the green lawn where most of the guests were still enjoying the party. He scanned his eyes over the clusters of people from atop the stairs, looking for Ellen or Benedict, and cursed under his breath again when he saw neither.
Taking the stone steps two at a time, he strode onto the lawn and stood in the center, turning in a circle to look for anything out of place.
His first turn proved nothing, only furthering his annoyance, but as he made a second sweep, forcing his tense body to move more slowly that time, he noticed the bush.
The host was throwing a party for the London elite, and surely would have tasked their gardeners to ensure that those leafy bushes were well trimmed and identical.
One, however, had a speckling of broken branches near the stairs.
Laurence moved toward it, and as he peered into the break in foliage, he saw evidence of a struggle.
Snapped branches, fallen leaves, grooves in the dirt that indicated two people were at odds with one another.
He stepped into the large bush, not caring if people saw, and followed the small trail of broken branches and drag marks in the dirt until it came out on the back side of the manor.
Nausea lurched in his stomach as he studied the dirt where the signs of a struggle shifted to two drag marks, no doubt left by Ellen’s heeled shoes. Such a sign told him that Ellen did not leave on her own, but had been pulled limply away by Benedict.
“Laurence!” Madalene’s voice called loudly from around the house. He turned and saw his sister, Solomon, and Solomon’s trusted constable running toward them; Madalene clutched her skirts in her hands so she could keep up.
“He took her here,” he panted, pointing to the bushes he’d just left as his gaze scanned the back lawn of the house. He stopped when he saw the roof of the stables situated a little ways down the hill, and drew his pointed finger toward it.
“There,” he said.
As he said this, a carriage pulled away from the stables with surprising speed. His eyes narrowed as hatred boiled in his gut, and he suddenly knew, without any doubt, that Ellen was in the carriage.