The door suddenly burst open and Gabriel said, “Something has happened to Lady Whitworth. She hasn’t returned from her ride.”
Dominic started to smile. “Hasn’t she?” But then he turned and saw Gabriel’s worried expression. “How long has she been gone?”
“It’s been at least three hours now. She didn’t come back for her dinner.”
Then she’d actually left of her own accord. Dominic was surprised. He didn’t think his flaunting his mistress in front of Brooke would work, but maybe that, coupled with his anger, had finally chased her away. “That’s good news.”
“No, it’s not. Her maid is frantic. She swears her lady wouldn’t leave without her, and I agree. She wouldn’t leave on horseback either. Something’s happened to her. And it will soon be dark.”
All relief fled. “Andrew!” Dominic bellowed. “Bring me trousers that haven’t been butchered and my greatcoat for the rain.”
“Youcan’t go out,” Gabriel protested.
“Of course I can. If she dies on the moors, the Prince will think I killed her. I assume someone has already checked the village?”
“That was the first place we looked.”
“Go have Royal saddled.”
“Dom, please, you can’t ride again this soon. I just wanted permission to round up all the men to start searching for her.”
“You can do that as well, but there’s not many of them with mounts who can search far, and we don’t have enough saddles to use my horses. And she’s my responsibility. I could wish it was otherwise, but that fact stands. So don’t argue with me.”
As soon as Gabriel rushed out of the room, Priscilla said drily, “I suppose I’ll find a bottle of brandy to take to bed with me.”
“You aren’t worried about her?”
“Why would I be? I’m sure you’ll find her. She probably just rode into the rain and has found shelter from it.”
“Possibly.”
Wolf followed him out of the room. Dominic entered Brooke’s room first to grab something of hers for the dog to smell. Her room was nearly Spartan though, as if she hadn’t unpacked—or she’d taken what she wanted with her today. It was still possible that she wasn’t lost but fleeing. It would be much more difficult to find someone who didn’t want to be found.
Downstairs, his cook was waiting for him and thrust a sack of food at him. “She hasn’t eaten” was all she said.
Marsha’s worry was evident. So was Arnold’s. At the stable, the elderly groom thrust another sack of supplies at him and attached two lanterns to Royal’s saddle before he handed off the reins to Dominic.
He heard someone yelling and glanced toward the house. Brooke’s maid was running toward him, and Gabriel was trying to stop her. But she shook her arm loose from Gabe and ran forward to demand of Dominic, “What did you do to upset her today? She never takes long rides unless she’s upset!”
He didn’t have time for this and didn’t even address Alfreda. “Take her back to the house,” he said to Gabriel before leaving them there.
Dominic rode around behind the pastures before he dismounted to let Wolf smell the ribbons he’d taken from Brooke’s vanity. “Find her,” he told the dog. He’d taken Wolf hunting enough times to know he could depend on him to catch Brook’s scent.
Wolf sniffed around only briefly before taking off in the direction in which Arnold had said Brooke rode off.
Although it was still dusk, he lit one of the lanterns before the rain reached him. Not far to the north, he could see the heavy deluge, which looked like a solid gray curtain hiding the land in the distance from him. Wolf charged toward it without a care. Dominic pulled up. Was he really going to ride into that? For her?
He spurred his stallion forward, thinking now he had another reason to dislike Brooke Whitworth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE WIND WAS HOWLINGthrough the castle ruins, blowing so hard that moonlight appeared occasionally, but the rain was still so heavy Brooke could barely make out in the eerie light the lone tree, bent by the wind. Lightning was in the distance, but the thunder was loud enough to seem much closer.
Brooke might have considered this something of an adventure if she weren’t so cold, hungry, and uncomfortable in her soaked clothes as she sat huddled in a closet with just three stone walls still standing around her. Did castles even have closets? she wondered.
Whatever the space had been used for centuries ago, it was about three feet wide and only about five feet long, but at least it had a stone ceiling that hadn’t crumbled yet and a stone floor that was dry. There might once have been a door, but that had long since rotted away.
She’d been sitting there for what felt like hours, and time was moving excruciatingly slowly. She’d never find her way back to Rothdale in the darkness and the heavy rain. She’d have to wait here until the morning unless someone rescued her, but how likely was that? Alfreda would be worried. Dominic probably wouldn’t know or care that she’d been gone so long.
