Hope shook her head. ‘My father will have informed Nicholas by now. The Duke will come for us, I am certain.’
Gabriel stilled. ‘Your father knew you were in the cottage with me?’ he questioned with a frown.
‘Naturally,’ she responded puzzled. ‘He intended to call for Malcolm once he’d taken my siblings back to the vicarage.’
Gabriel frowned again, vague shadows and voices drifting into his mind. ‘Which siblings?’ he whispered.
Hope leaned back and stared up at him silently. Then she suddenly understood. ‘You don’t remember rescuing Anthony do you,’ she murmured.
‘I…’ Gabriel paused and frowned. Hazy memories of screaming and shouting and then carrying someone… a boy, he’d been carrying a boy.
Hope placed her tied hands onto his arm. ‘Gabriel, you rescued my brother from Wistman’s pool. It caused the onset of an ague. My father and I had come to the cottage looking for him and my four sisters but when we arrived, we found you collapsed. I remained to watch over you while my father took all five of them home before going on to Blackmore to request Malcolm’s aid.’
Gabriel shook his head and blinked. The last thing he could remember clearly was thinking how much his head hurt and whether he would be able to stomach any supper. He had supposed her simply there to watch over him and given no further thought as to whether she’d been alone. Which now he considered it, was patently ridiculous. It had been dark for pity’s sake. Slowly, the memories began to come back, hazy and disjointed.
Glancing over at their captors who were beginning to stir, Gabriel looked down at Hope’s concerned face. ‘So, you’re saying your father was planning to inform Nick of my fever?’ he whispered urgently.
Hope nodded. ‘And bring Malcolm back to the cottage.’ She paused before adding softly, ‘We were very concerned for you.’
Gabriel closed his eyes as sudden relief swamped him. Nicholas wasalreadyfully aware of their abduction.
Henry did not know of the connection between the Duke of Blackmore and the Shackleford family. He only knew of the former friendship between Gabriel Atwood and Nicholas Sinclair. His cousin would not be anticipating the Duke’s intervention - certainly not immediately. But due to Hope’s involvement, Gabriel had no doubt that Nicholas was even now putting plans in motion for a rescue.
Henry had overplayed his hand. All Gabriel had to do was keep himself and Hope alive until the Duke and the rest of the cavalry arrived.
∞∞∞
Nicholas and Malcolm rode hard until the light began to wane. They’d chosen to travel on a well-used thoroughfare linking Devon to Hampshire which encompassed an abundance of inns in which to shelter for the night. Consequently, they’d been able to continue until the light was almost gone before finally seeking accommodation. Although the Duke chaffed at the idea of stopping for the night, Malcolm had persuaded him that it would do neither Gabriel nor Hope any good if their potential rescuers arrived at Northwood Court entirely done to a cow’s thumb, or indeed with their horses pushed beyond endurance. Eventually, Nicholas had grudgingly acquiesced though he made it clear he intended to be back on the road by dawn the following day.
∞∞∞
The journey to Rutledge Manor felt as though it took forever. At least for Grace and her father. Percy slept like… well… like Grace imagined a warthog might. Freddy didn’t help matters by twitching and grumbling in his doggy dreams. By the time they passed into Hampshire both Grace and the Reverend were ready to throw the snoring curate out of the carriage.
There had been no opportunity to refine any kind of plan between them and in the time it took them to reach at their destination, the Duchess and Reverend Shackleford had surreptitiously come up with entirely dissimilar strategies.
Grace fully intended to march in through the front door and announce to the world (or at least the Admiral’s wife) exactly what havey-cavey business her husband and son had been indulging in.
Reverend Shackleford on the other hand, to whom skulking was unfortunately becoming second nature, naturally assumed they would be taking a more clandestine approach - much as he and Percy had when they’d investigated Redstone House in Torquay. Freddy was simply concerned about breakfast.
Grace requested the carriage pause in a concealed clearing just outside of the modest gates to Admiral Atwood’s home while they broke their fast and endeavoured to wake Percy. Once he’d finished eating, the Reverend took Freddy outside, ostensibly to see to the foxhound’s needs, and Grace swiftly took the opportunity to speak with the curate alone.
‘You are fully acquainted with my father’s penchant for dramatic entrances Percy,’ she observed briskly, ‘and I would ask that on this occasion you do your best to curb his more excessive inclinations. He will undoubtedly suggest I remain in the carriage whilst he scopes out the lay of the land so to speak.’ She paused and sighed, feeling her heart sink as she watched her father making his enthusiastic way back to their carriage. ‘I will naturally wait until you are both out of sight,’ she went on hurriedly, ‘then I will instruct the coachman to continue. Once inside the manor, it is my intention to bring the whole smoky business out into the open. I cannot believe the Admiral’s wife is fully cognisant of her husband’s treachery. If Hope and Gabriel are imprisoned in Rutledge Manor, I will simply demand to know.’ She paused, then coughed and added, ‘Naturally I cannot guarantee that my err… approach will goentirelyto plan and would ask that you and my father simply remain close by but out of sightjust in case…’
Percy stared at her nonplussed. While he would entirely agree that the Reverend’s haphazard approach to any and all hobbles they found themselves in was not always the most sensible, on this occasion, he was of the opinion that her grace’s strategy was every bit as irrational. ‘Shouldn’t we at least wait unt…’
He was interrupted as the carriage door was thrown open to admit the Reverend’s excited face and Percy couldn’t help wondering what the deuce he was doing here with two individuals he very much feared were entirely dicked in the nob…
∞∞∞
By dawn they were back on the horses and on the move. An hour or so later, Gabriel recognised the landscape surrounding his ancestral home. Neither he nor Hope had been given anything more to eat, and looking over at Hope, slumping in the saddle, held up only by the ruffian seated behind her, the Viscount could only pray that what little honour Henry retained as a gentleman would persuade him to provide them both with a last meal before undoubtedly dispatching them to provide additional nourishment to Northwood Court’s spectacular show of roses.
And if courtesy didn’t do the trick, then he could only hope curiosity over Gabriel’s apparent rise from the dead would get the better of his cousin.
Fortunately, their captors had freed his hands from behind his back, tying his wrists instead to the pommel of his saddle. He assumed they’d done so not out of concern for his wellbeing, but to draw less attention from any chance observers. The pain in his hands and arms had at first been excruciating and it was all Gabriel could do not to cry out in agony. Within an hour though, the shooting pains had faded to a dull ache, and he was again able to flex his fingers. Indeed, he had spent the whole time repeating that simple movement, recognising that being able to use his fingers might be the difference between life and death.
The weather was bitterly cold with the wind whipping across the Hampshire Downs. He could barely see Hope’s face, huddled as she was in her filthy blanket. Despite her earlier fortitude, he knew she was reaching the end of her strength and the urge to kill either or both of their kidnappers became ever stronger as they approached his former home.
Then, suddenly, the gates to Northwood Court appeared and despite his desperate fear, Gabriel felt a sense of homecoming that brought a lump to his throat. Truly, he’d been far too long away and despite the less than idyllic circumstances, he realised he was still glad to be back.
