But he couldn’t think about losing her. Couldn’t let the fear take hold. If he faltered now, he might never see her again.
They wouldn’t kill her.
Not yet.
Not until they got what they came for.
He had time. Time to get her back.
In the mews, Dalton was the first to press for answers. “Where do we start? We don’t know why they took her or what they’re after.”
“Or why you married her without telling your friends.” Gentry gripped Gabriel’s shoulder. “Why you’ve kept us in the dark.”
For the same reason he did anything. To protect those he loved from the faceless devils who hunted in shadows.
“I’ll explain on the way,” he said, already moving.
He noticed Alfie atop the box, swamped in a heavy coat, cap pulled low. The boy might like to think he was invisible.
“Alfie.”
The boy jerked upright. “Yes, milord.”
“Loyalty is the only currency that matters here. You’ve earned your place, and can ride with us tonight.” The boy’s smile took the chill from Gabriel’s heart, if only for a moment. “Still, you answer to Kincaid.”
“Aye, milord.”
The horses stamped and snorted in the dark, breath clouding in the cold. Kincaid steadied the team of muscled Friesians pulling the elegant black carriage emblazoned with the dragon crest. “Where to?” he asked.
“Wynbury Hall.” He’d strike the obvious places off thelist first. There was no time to search the house for swallows and spend hours hunting down the next clue. “Then to World’s End. I have questions for Mrs Hodge, and may want to call on the rector.”
The drive to Wynbury Hall took ten minutes, just long enough for Gabriel to give his friends a quick recount of all that had happened.
Rutland shook his head. “And you think Miss Bourne is part of this fraternity? That means she knew Olivia’s father.”
Gabriel didn’t know what to think. “Without the full picture, we’re groping in the dark. But I’m convinced she took Olivia, and not because she wants me.” The carriage rattled through Wynbury’s rusted gates. “Hopefully her aunt can shed light on the matter.”
“It’s gone four,” Rutland muttered as the carriage wheels crunched over gravel. “They’ll all be abed.”
“Then we’ll wake them,” Dalton said, sneering.
Wynbury Hall loomed ahead. The house was silent, every blind drawn, every window black. An eerie mist clung to the place, creeping low to the ground, weaving up the stone steps like it knew the way.
Gabriel alighted, scanning the facade where ivy clung like rot. Something in the air told him he wasn’t wasting his time. But only an amateur would bring Olivia here. And Kate Bourne was as devious as the snake that tricked Eve.
“Kincaid, keep your eyes peeled. There’s a slim chance Miss Bourne is here. But have a care. Don’t fire blindly in the dark.”
The coachman gave a sharp nod and drew his pistol.
Gabriel mounted the steps, slammed the brass knocker against the plate, each hammer echoing like a summons for the dead.
No response.
Not even a whisper of wind in the trees.
A second knock failed to rouse a sleepy-eyed servant.
Gabriel stepped back from the door and searched the windows for a twitch of curtain or sudden flicker of light.
