Phillip’s face tightened with concern. “She is only a child herself, so one cannot expect her to report like a detective.”
“I am not suggesting?—”
“But still, she maintains that she saw a man take them away. Now, our task is to locate the man.”
Christopher ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his body stiff with exhaustion and frustration. “We need to widen the search,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Check every road, every building near the park. Someone must have seen them.”
Phillip nodded in agreement, but he could see the strain in his friend’s eyes. “But first, you need to take a moment. You’re running on fumes.”
“I can’t stop,” Christopher protested. “Not until I find them.”
“I know,” Phillip said gently. “But you’re no good to them if you collapse.”
“What are you even suggesting?” Christopher asked, irritated. “That I abandon the search and simply go home? All because it is too hard?”
“You are surely doing a great job at misinterpreting what I say today,” Phillip huffed. “All I am suggesting is that perhaps we need to devise a new strategy. You have your entire staff searching the park. I think something else must be done.”
Christopher considered his words. “Well, go on then. What is your big idea?”
“I suggest we talk to the people. Someone must have seen something.”
Christopher nodded immediately. This might be the best idea out of them all.
“We’ll find them,” Phillip repeated, his voice steady and reassuring. “We have to believe that.”
Now with a different strategy, they instead began looking for people who might have seen the twins.
Christopher spotted a man by the bench. He looked quite uninterested in being there, but Christopher remembered him from earlier when they had first come to the park.
“That man.” He pointed towards him. “I have an inkling that he might know something.”
“Let us waste no time, then.”
They approached him.
“Kind sir, did you see a pair of twins, very young with brown hair, at this park earlier? We have been searching for them since the evening and have not been able to find any trace of them yet,” Christopher explained.
The man looked up at them. “That depends,” he drawled, his voice low and rough. “Who’s asking?”
“I am Christopher Grant, the Duke of Huntington,” Christopher replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt or delay. “And this is Phillip Fernside, the Duke of Trowbridge. We’re looking for my nephews, Ernest and Edwin. Do you know anything?”
“I might know something,” the man said, his eyes scanning the park around them. “But it’s going to cost you.”
Phillip stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “We’re not here to play games,” he growled. “If you have information, you’d better tell us now. We don’t have time for negotiations.”
The man shrugged, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Money talks, gentlemen. I’m risking a lot just talking to you. Make it worth my while.”
Christopher’s eyes blazed with frustration, but he forced himself to remain calm.
“Money is no issue,” he said firmly, pulling a small pouch from his coat pocket and holding it up. “You’ll get whatever you need. But first, you tell us everything you know.”
* * *
The estate was eerily quiet as the night deepened.
Frances sat in her room, the dim light of a single candle casting flickering shadows on the walls. She hadn’t eaten or slept, her heart aching with worry for Ernest and Edwin. Every creak of the floorboards startled her, her mind racing with thoughts of the twins.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
