He’d done this on purpose. The quiet distance was slowly driving her into madness. Even being with her sisters could not distract her from the growing need to see him again.
Today, the clouds brewing in the sky mirrored her gray mood. Her sister Margaret had gone out shopping, but it was long past the time when she should have returned. Juliette paced across the room before she decided to go downstairs and peer outside the window.
Margaret was predictable, down to the last minute. She had never returned so late, not in all the time they’d been in London.
The streets were a crowded tangle of carriages and merchants, with people milling about everywhere. Juliette stared at the throng, hoping for a glimpse of her sister. Minutes later, she spied a hackney approaching their residence. It stopped, and Cain Sinclair emerged. In his arms, he carried an unconscious Margaret, her hair tangled with blood.
Panic struck Juliette like a fist, for she’d never imagined that anyone would attack her sister.Dear God, let her be all right.She hurried to the door, throwing it open before the footman could get there.
Within seconds, Cain Sinclair trudged up the steps, his arms gripped tightly around her sister. The man’s face was grim, and Juliette feared the worst.
“What happened?” she demanded. “Is Margaret all right?”
Her sister was hanging limp against him. Someone had wrapped a makeshift bandage around her temple, but it was stained red. While it appeared that she was still breathing, that didn’t diminish Juliette’s fear at all.
The butler wasted no time in issuing orders to a footman, demanding fresh water and bandages.
“Miss Andrews was trying to stop the Duchess of Worthingstone from being kidnapped,” Mr. Sinclair answered, following her into the drawing room. “Your sister is missing, and the servants found one of the footmen dead. Miss Andrews was lying on the pavement bleeding. She hit her head when she was thrown from the carriage.”
Just the thought of it sent a cold fear trembling through Juliette. She couldn’t think of why anyone would want to hurt Margaret or gentle-hearted Victoria. Especially now, when the duchess was expecting her first child.
Seeing Margaret wounded only drove the fear deeper. Though her sister’s prim ways might be irritating at times, she didn’t doubt that Margaret had gone down fighting for Victoria. She could only pray that the injuries weren’t life-threatening. Never before had she seen her sister this pale, and she reached for Margaret’s hand, feeling utterly helpless when the young woman seemed unaware of it.
Mr. Sinclair sat down on a settee, still holding her in his arms. The motion brought forth a low moan of pain from Margaret, and Juliette’s worries intensified.
“She needs a doctor,” she insisted.
“Go and fetch Fraser,” Sinclair said quietly. “He’s the only one I’d trust with your sister.”
The look in his eyes made her wonder if he knew about the separation between Paul and herself. Though she’d wanted to mend the breach, she hadn’t known what to say or do. But Mr. Sinclair was right—Paul was the best doctor to help Margaret, and this gave her the perfect reason to seek him out.
“All right.” When the footman brought in the water and bandages, Juliette ordered him to prepare the carriage and fetch her pelisse. Though she was trying to remain calm, two of her sisters had been threatened. Margaret still hadn’t opened her eyes, and Victoria was missing. Inside, her heart had gone cold with fear for both of them.
“Do they know where the duchess is now?” she asked Mr. Sinclair, while tying the ribbons of her bonnet.Please, let someone find her.
Sinclair shook his head. “The servants are still searching.”
Juliette reached out to take her sister’s hand. When she glanced over at Mr. Sinclair, his demeanor was grave. He was holding Margaret against him, as if afraid she would close her eyes and never awaken. Gone was the teasing Highlander who often liked to provoke her sister. Instead, his attention was locked on her face with worry.
“Dr. Fraser will take care of Margaret,” Juliette promised. “I believe that.” She swallowed hard and added, “But we need to find Victoria.” The fear inside her gathered intensity at the thought of her sister’s attack. She clenched her hands together to stop them from shaking. “Has His Grace returned from Scotland?”
“Not yet. The duchess was alone with the servants when she was taken.”
She gripped her hands together, fearing the worst. Her sister hated going outside, and if she’d ventured out into the open, there had to be a strong reason for it. Juliette couldn’t imagine the paralyzing terror the duchess must be enduring now.
But Cain Sinclair could find her. She was sure of it.
“Does anyone know where Toria was taken?” Juliette asked. “Or the reason why?”
“The servants said that Mr. Melford, Lord Strathland’s factor, paid a call upon Her Grace not long ago,” Sinclair admitted. “It wouldna surprise me if someone wanted to ransom her. Or use her to influence the duke.”
“Then likely they’ll take Victoria north, toward Ballaloch,” Juliette predicted.
“Aye.”
“You can find her. There aren’t that many roads leading to the western Highlands.” Juliette had no doubt that Mr. Sinclair could track her sister’s whereabouts, particularly if Lord Strathland was behind the attack. “If they’re in a carriage, they’ll have to stop at the tollbooths. It will slow them down.” Her gaze narrowed upon him. “But you don’t have to stay to the roads if you’re on horseback. You could catch up to her.”
Mr. Sinclair brushed a tangled strand of Margaret’s hair to one side. There was reluctance in his expression, as if he didn’t want to leave. But he gave a nod. “Tell Miss Andrews where I’ve gone, when she awakens.”
