“No. She and Bella had planned to walk to the milliner’s shops and purchase hats and fripperies. Bella makes these decisions with little planning, although she had Mary tell Mortimer. Apparently, the ostlers and other help were all rotating their midday meal shifts and no one saw anything. These gloves are all we have,” he said in a strained voice.
Gracie started barking, drawing notice to his saddlebag.
“Your Grace, why did you bring a kitchen dog?” he asked.
“She is our family’s new dog and I believe Gracie could be a witness who can identify this man.” Sighing, he continued, “It is a long story—one I will explain later.” Gently, Slade helped Gracie out of the saddlebag, and she immediately sniffed the ground behind the bush. She sniffed the gloves in Lady Rothmore’s hands.
“May we have one of those?” Slade asked.
“Yes, certainly,” the woman sniffed, handing him one and wiping tears from her face with the heel of her hand.
Gracie sniffed at the glove and hurried through the alley.
“Quick, we need to follow her. She has picked up the scent,” Latham said.
With no need for further encouragement, the three men followed the dog, maintaining a safe distance, so she did not get entangled in their horses’ hooves. Gracie began barking when she led them to the back of a building behind the mews where a wagon appeared to have been hidden. Tracks showed where it had moved through grass and onto the road, heading back toward the park. Slade hoped the scent would not fail. Bella had to be close. His heart pulled at the thought of her, frightened at the hands of this man. He feared what would happen if he did not find her in time.
After traveling over a mile of the mews, Gracie slowed and panted.
“I need to stop and give her water,” Slade said, sliding down from his horse. “She had only just recovered from being left tied to a tree and I do not want to lose her.” He reached into the other side bag and brought out his canteen, pouring water directly into her mouth. The dog could drink the water if he poured it slow enough. When she seemed sated, she barked, unwilling to rest. He mounted his horse, and the three men continued to follow. The pattern of rest and water followed for the next hour as the dog continued to follow the scents, undeterred.
They had been tracking for several hours, buoyed by Gracie’s selflessness. Her pace slowed as they turned onto a less traveled road that skirted the back part of the park. He recognized it asScandal Lane, rumored to have been named for its remoteness and sparse lighting. It was not an area unknown to him; however, it was not one he frequented.
“Latham, do you recognize where we are?” Slade asked.
“I do,” he said with a concerned frown. “There should be small outbuildings used by the gardeners close by.”
The road curved, and they saw them. Two small gardening sheds sat ahead of them, with a horse and wagon half-hidden behind and secured to a tree.
“Gracie . . . shhh!” The dog looked up at Slade with what he would swear was agreement. She did not make a sound, but walked to the wagon and sniffed, then ran back to get him, running forward and backward to show he should follow.
“Give me a minute to lead the horse away, so he will have no chance of simple escape,” Latham said, sliding off his own horse and moving him behind some brush. “I will leave my horse so we won’t chance him stirring the other horse, since we do not know the gender.”
Slade asked Lord Rothmore to stay, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Rothmore shook his head.
“She is my daughter,” he said, sliding down from his horse. He left it without tying it. “He will not let another rider on him, and he will not leave me,” the earl said.
“Fine. However, let Latham and I go ahead of you,” Slade said.
The three men and the dog crept along slowly and approached a dirty window on the shed. Signaling the others to keep their heads down, Slade peered into the window. But what he saw angered him. Bella lay unconscious and bound on the ground. Her face looked bruised and bleeding, likely from having been punched. Worse, the man was standing over her, opening his britches.
“Nooo!” With a roar, Slade kicked open the door and rushed the surprised man, punching him in the face. Gracie leaped from behind him and attacked the man, growling and biting him on the face and arms. The man tried to fight the dog, but with little success. She was as if possessed.
“Help! Stop this dog,” he cried.
His cries woke Bella, who tried to sit up. She gave a muffled cry with tears streaming down her bruised face.
Her father removed the gag and used his handkerchief to wipe the blood from her face. “Daughter, I feared I had lost you,” he cried. “You cannot imagine the panic I felt.”
“Papa, I did not notice him. Mary and I were walking to get hats and ribbons.”
“You will take a footman with you from now on,” he scolded as he removed the remaining bonds.
Latham and Slade pulled Gracie from the man and the dog immediately walked toward Bella, panting and wagging her body, and wearing a contented look on her face.
“I am not sure who this sweet angel is,” Bella said, looking at Gracie. The small dog gave her a sniff before licking her face, as if to assure herself she had found her quarry.
“I will wait for you outside, Hertford,” Latham murmured, grabbing the man by his bound hands.
