William nodded, jaw set. “Only that it concerned Elowen. Agnes’s account is fragmentary—she could say little but that she had been taken.”
Lucas exhaled, narrowing his eyes. “Victor’s hand seems likely.”
William’s fists tightened in his lap. “We must inform my father at once. Every second that passes increases the peril.”
Lucas didn’t respond verbally. His mind raced with possibilities and routes, suspects and contingencies; he would not allow himself to dwell on every awful eventuality.
“Your Grace,” William said, breaking into his thoughts, “we must consider the extent of this. If it is a reprisal for our inquiries, delay will worsen the risk.”
Lucas’s jaw set. “Agreed. But we will not act recklessly. Her safety is paramount and will govern every step.”
The carriage slowed as they neared the Tremaine estate, the familiar façade growing larger with each second. But something felt wrong. Servants moved with unnatural urgency, voices carried over the courtyard, tense and clipped—the kind of sharp tones that typically marked a crisis.
“Something is amiss,” Lucas muttered, scanning the gates and main entrance.
William’s hand clenched the leather. “We shall know soon enough.”
They leapt from the carriage before it fully stopped. On the steps, the butler met them, his face drawn; without a word, he led them into the drawing room. A maid—Agnes—was supported by two footmen. Her eyes were wide with terror; her breath came in ragged gasps. Lady Trenton stood pale but composed; Lord Trenton sat with his head in his hands.
“What has occurred?” Lucas demanded, advancing.
Agnes looked up, torn between relief and panic. “Your Grace—” Her voice broke. “I—I couldn’t—”
Lucas steadied her with a firm hand upon her shoulder. “Breathe. Slowly. Tell me plainly what you saw. You are safe now.”
She drew a ragged breath and tried to steady herself. Margaret—Lady Trenton—stepped forward and took the maid’s hand. “Do not hold back, Agnes. Speak plainly. We need to understand everything.”
Lord Trenton rose then, his face ashen with distress. His eyes locked onto Lucas, searching, pleading.
“Elowen—” he began, his voice catching. “She… she has been taken.”
“We came as soon as we heard,” Lucas said, his voice taut. “Who took her? What do you know?”.
Lord Trenton shook his head. “I do not know. At first, I thought it was a misadventure, but the manner—” His hands trembled. “Agnes saw… the carriage. She… she saw the men. She—”
Agnes interrupted, her voice urgent and broken. “I—I tried, my lord. I ran to her and screamed, but they… they—” Her knees buckled slightly, and Lucas caught her. “They put a cloth over her face. She struggled. She fought, but… but she was gone.”
Anger flared in Lucas’s chest, burning hotter than fear or panic. His jaw set tight.
“Did you see their faces?” he asked.
“No,” she sobbed. “They wore cloaks and masks. They spoke in low voices. I think they were organised. I know I can't fully describe them, but—” Her voice faltered.
“Enough,” Lucas said, voice low but controlled. “You did all you could. Now give me every detail you recall—from the moment you left the house until they seized her. Every scrap may matter.”
Agnes inhaled, tears on her cheeks. She began again, steadier this time, recounting the carriage’s approach, the halt, the men’s motions. Lucas kept her to the facts, pressing gently for times and directions.
Margaret drew close. “You did all any one could,” she murmured to Agnes. “You protected her as best you might.”
Lucas remained beside Agnes, his voice steady though his eyes were sharp. “Agnes, think carefully—was there anyone else nearby? Any witnesses who might have seen the carriage or the men?”
She shook her head quickly, still trembling. “No, Your Grace. The street was quiet. I saw no one else close enough to help. By the time others heard me shouting, the carriage had already gone.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened. “Then they planned it precisely. Their timing, their route—it was no chance.”
He turned to William, who had remained silent, fists clenched at his sides. “William, tell me everything you’ve learned about Lord Cherrington’s movements and any possible connection to these men. We must act at once.”
William nodded, voice steady but urgent. “Victor has been making discreet inquiries—subtle, but persistent. The timing of his questions about Father’s records, his visit to our house, all of it fits. He knows of our investigations and may be using this to punish or silence us—through Elowen.”
