The men arrivedat the Marquess of Lorne’s town home to find it in chaos. Rockwell, Farah and Wolf and Tiffany were there hovering around Lady Ashley who was being attended to by a physician.
Lucien’s blood turned to ice as he took in the scene before him—the shattered French doors, furniture overturned, bloodon the carpet where Ashley sat with a physician tending to her head wound. His eyes swept the room frantically, searching for any sign of Courtney, though he already knew with sickening certainty that she wasn’t there.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the murmur of concerned voices.
Ashley looked up from the physician’s ministrations, her face pale but her eyes blazing with fury. “Lockwood took her,” she said, her voice hoarse but steady. “He came through the terrace doors with two men. Said something about Gretna Green.”
The words hit Lucien like physical blows. Gretna Green. The bastard intended to force a marriage, to compromise Courtney so thoroughly that her father would have no choice but to accept the union or see his daughter ruined forever.
Blackstone stepped forward, his aristocratic composure barely concealing the murderous rage that had been building since they’d found Kitty’s body. “When did this happen?”
“Perhaps an hour ago,” Ashley replied, wincing as the physician cleaned her wound. “They created a distraction—set a small fire in the kitchen to draw away the servants. It was all planned, methodical.”
Lucien’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. While he’d been discovering Kitty’s murder, Courtney had been fighting for her life, facing Lockwood’s violence alone. The thought of that monster laying hands on her, of what he might be doing to her even now…
“Was she hurt during her abduction?” Wolf asked, though the question was barely necessary given Ashley’s obvious injuries.
“She fought,” Ashley said with grim satisfaction. “Kicked and screamed until they used some sort of cloth—chloroform, I suspect. The last thing I saw was them carrying her unconscious through the garden.”
“That’s not good. She can hardly try to escape or leave clues if she’s rendered senseless,” Wolf said.
Unconscious. Lucien closed his eyes briefly, imagining Courtney’s terror in those final moments before the drug took hold. She would have known exactly what Lockwood intended, would have understood that everything they’d planned, everything they’d hoped for, was crumbling around her.
“We have to go after them,” he said, his voice rough with barely controlled emotion. “Every moment we delay gives him more distance.”
Rockwell stepped forward, his usual languid demeanor replaced by sharp focus. “Which route would he take? The Great North Road is the most direct path to Scotland, but also the most obvious.”
“He’s desperate, not stupid,” Farah interjected, her face tight with worry. “He might take a less traveled route to avoid pursuit.”
Lucien forced himself to think tactically, though every instinct screamed at him to simply mount his horse and ride hell-bent in pursuit. “He has money troubles, creditors closing in. He can’t afford a leisurely journey with multiple stops. He’ll want speed over subtlety.”
“The Great North Road, then,” Blackstone said decisively. “But we should send men to cover all routes, just in case. He’ll have at least an hour’s head start, possibly more if he had horses waiting outside London. We will have an advantage in that we will be on horseback and Lockwood will be traveling by carriage.”
“Can Courtney slow him down?” Tiffany asked, voicing the question that tormented Lucien. “If she regains consciousness…”
“She’ll try,” Lucien said with absolute certainty. “But Lockwood has already proven he’s willing to use violence. If sheresists…” He couldn’t finish the thought. The image of Kitty’s broken body was burned into his memory, a terrible reminder of what Lockwood was capable of when crossed.
Farah moved to Ashley’s side, taking her friend’s hand. “Did he say anything else? Any indication of his plans beyond Gretna Green?”
Ashley shook her head, then immediately regretted the movement, pressing a hand to her temple. “Only that her father would accept the marriage once it was done. That accidents could happen to her father if the dowry wasn’t forthcoming.” Her voice hardened. “He threatened Courtney and as we know, Lord Lorne will do anything for her safe return.”
The casual mention of threatening Courtney’s father sent fresh rage coursing through Lucien’s veins. Not content with abduction and forced marriage, Lockwood was prepared to use violence against her family as well.
“We need horses,” Lucien said, already moving toward the door. “The fastest in London. And weapons.”
“Wait,” Rockwell called after him. “Charging off half-cocked won’t help Courtney. We need a plan.”
Lucien whirled around, his control finally cracking. “While we’re planning, he’s dragging her further from London! He could be doing anything to her—” His voice broke slightly on the words.
Blackstone placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “I understand your urgency,” he said quietly, the grief for Kitty lending weight to his words. “But Rockwell is right. We have one chance to get this right. If we fail, if Lockwood reaches Scotland…”
He didn’t need to finish. They all understood the implications. Once married, even by force, Courtney would be trapped by law and society’s strictures. Her reputation would be destroyed, her freedom forfeit.
“Three hours,” Wolf said grimly. “That’s how long it typically takes for chloroform to fully wear off. If she’s unconscious in a moving carriage…”
“She’ll be violently ill when she wakes,” Tiffany finished, her face pale. “Disoriented, weakened.”
The clinical discussion of Courtney’s suffering made Lucien want to put his fist through the nearest wall. Instead, he forced himself to focus on what could be controlled.
