They were dressed to hunt.
They’d be in the woods and the far fields on the property. With dogs and at least a dozen men.
“You’re hunting?Today?”
“It is hunting season, after all,” Henry said. “The deer will be out in numbers.”
“You can’t,” she said with enough shrillness that the pair looked at her quizzically.
Shit.
Her brother’s brow creased—he looked so like their father in that moment that it was uncanny. But it was Lord Richard who questioned, “And why not?”
Isobel wet her lips, trying to search for any logical reason. “I thought I heard it was to rain today.”
Henry’s expression relaxed, his lazy smile returning. “Not a single cloud in the sky. You are well enough to chaperone Clara? You agreed last week to sit with her while she visited with her suitors.”
Isobel vaguely remembered. It felt like a lifetime ago. Most likely, he had asked her when she was dashing out the front door, her focus fully on getting to the bookstore rather than setting plans for the next week.
“Of course,” she breathed. “How many are we expecting?” She would need to warn Ved as soon as she could, but she couldn’t leave Clara alone with her callers.
“Three this morning. Then her friend, Miss Shanning, is visiting. Cook and Margaret will ensure they have everything,” Henry said as he pulled on his gloves. “Wish us luck on our hunt.”
“Happy hunting,” she murmured, barely able to scrounge up enough cheeriness to avoid an interrogation from her brother.
She wouldn’t be able to tell Ved for several hours. If they found him, what would they do to him?
And more concerning, what wouldhedo tothem?
Chapter 13
Isobel
The suitors showed up with long waits between them, and an extra calling card appeared if by magic, meaning Isobel had to sit through four awkward interactions before she could leave. Whatever happened to callinghour?
Now, Clara and her best friend, Katherine Shanning, were discussing everything from suitors to the possibility of two women traveling the world together instead of staying in Dorsent to marry.
Happily being plied with sweets and tea, they were unlikely to notice her absence.
By the time Isobel reached Ved’s ship, a sheen of sweat was on her brow, and she couldn’t breathe. But it didn’t take long for her to realize that it had all been for naught—Ved wasn’t inside it.
Had something already happened?
The possibilities were too grim to contemplate. She was anything but calm as she left the downed vessel and got her bearings as best she could. Her brother had most likely gone to the west, where a lively stream attracted all kinds of wildlife. Bunching up her skirts, she set off into the woods in the direction she hoped was correct.
In order to maintain her western route, she had to deviate entirely from the walking paths. Just like the night she’d run from Ved, picking her way through was proving to be an arduous task. She’d at least worn shoes that were much easier to rid of evidence of off-trail forest-tromping than some others. But how she longed for a pair of trousers and fewer layers.
“Ved,” she hissed every few steps. He’d said that Xaal had superior senses, so she hoped he could hear her frantic whisper-yells.
It wasn’t until she was deep in the forest that she began panicking anew. She felt like she’d been walking for hours and wasn’t certain if she was still on their property or the Huels’.
Surely, she should have come upon the stream and the hunting party by now.
Halting, she wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Her curls had escaped her bonnet, and some stuck to her forehead and cheeks. It was more humid here than in the fields, surrounded by the trees and thick brush, and she was parched. Whatever energy she’d managed to rouse despite her sleepless nights was completely drained.
She trudged toward a thick log and promptly plopped down on it. Leaning back against the sturdy tree the log sat perpendicular to, she closed her eyes. Just a brief respite was all she needed.
A noise had her startling awake just in time to see a white and brown blur dash through the trees.
