Dominic nodded stiffly, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "Continue searching. The woods, the lake, everywhere."
The staff exchanged glances as they passed each other in the hall. None had ever seen the Duke of Icemere in such a state. His famous control was slipping—his cravat loosened, his hair disheveled from running his hands through it repeatedly, his movements sharp and erratic.
"She wouldn't have left," he insisted to Winters when the butler suggested broadening the search to the village. "Not without telling me. Something's happened to her."
The words, spoken aloud, sent ice through his veins. Something's happened to her. The Blake curse had claimed his father, his grandfather, generations of men before him. But what if its true cruelty was this—taking not his life, but the woman who had, against all odds, become precious to him?
No,he thought fiercely. I refuse to accept that.
As full darkness fell, lantern light bobbed across the grounds like fireflies, each one representing a servant searching for the missing Duchess. Dominic stood at the entrance, a coat thrown hastily over his shoulders, prepared to join the search himself.
"Dominic?"
He turned to find his mother descending the stairs, concern etched across her fine features.
"Mother, you should be resting," he said automatically.
"How can I rest when my son looks as though his world is ending?" Louisa approached him, her keen eyes taking in his disheveled appearance. "What's happened?"
"June is missing," he said, the words catching in his throat. "No one has seen her since midday. We've searched everywhere."
"Missing?" Louisa's hand flew to her throat. "But surely she's just?—"
"She's not in the castle. Not in the gardens. Not anywhere anyone has looked." Dominic's voice rose despite his efforts to control it. "It's been hours, Mother. And it's getting dark, and cold, and?—"
He broke off, unwilling to voice the fears crowding his mind. June alone in the dark. June injured somewhere on his vast estate. June calling for help that didn't come.
"We must find her," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.
Louisa studied her son's face, seeing what few others would recognize—not merely concern for a new bride, but the raw terror of a man faced with losing someone irreplaceable.
"You love her," she said softly, not a question but a realization.
Dominic looked at his mother, startled by the simple truth of her words. Love? Was that this desperate fear clawing at his chest, this certainty that if harm came to June, something in him would shatter beyond repair?
"I—" he began, but couldn't finish.
Louisa reached for his hand, her touch steadying. "Dominic," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she touched his arm. "I just remembered... June mentioned the old ruins this morning after breakfast."
Time seemed to stop. Dominic stared at his mother, blood draining from his face. "The ruins? You're certain?"
"Yes, she asked if anyone had ever conducted a proper archaeological study of them. She seemed quite interested."
"Lord help me," Dominic whispered, his pale eyes widening as realization struck like lightning. "I showed them to her myself!"
The ancient Blake castle ruins—crumbling, unstable, parts of it collapsing with each passing year. He'd pointed them out during their ride, never thinking she might venture there alone. Alone and unaware of which sections were stable, which were death traps waiting to claim the unwary.
"Winters!" he shouted, startling a passing footman. "Gather men with tools—picks, shovels, anything that might move stone!"
The butler appeared as if conjured by Dominic's urgent tone. "Your Grace?"
"The ruins—she's gone to the ruins." Dominic snatched a lantern from a servant's hands. "Send men there immediately. And fetch Dr. Forrest from the village."
Without waiting for acknowledgment, he strode toward the door, purpose replacing panic in every line of his body.
"Dominic, be careful!" his mother called after him. "Those ruins are dangerous?—"
But he was already gone, racing into the night toward the ancient stones where his wife might be trapped, his heart tightening with the terrifying knowledge that parts of those ruins had been collapsing for years.
