“This is a map,” Harry said, holding it open.
Warwick leaned over his shoulder. “The place circled is about a thirty-minute ride from here.”
“That’s an old cemetery,” Dev added from Harry’s other shoulder.
He turned as he heard a grunt and saw Eden had raised the mattress on the bed.
“There is a split in this. Someone has taken to it with a knife,” she said.
Warwick held the mattress, and she put her hand inside. Seconds later, she pulled out a leather pouch.
Dev grabbed the lamp and raised it so they could look.
“This must be the other document signed that night between the late Duke of Horrible and Lavigne,” Eden said.
“What else is in there?” Harry asked.
“A ticket to sail back to France for one week from now,” Eden said. “There is also a newspaper article.” Her eyes ran over it. “It’s from the hanging of Theo Lavigne and says we are grateful to the Duke of Raven for bringing this scoundrel to the attention of authorities. He is being lauded as the hero,” Eden said, disgust in her voice.
“Just when I think I can’t loathe that man more,” Dev added.
“Clearly they think they’ll have what they want in a week,” Harry snarled. “We will be dissuading them of that notion.”
“The cemetery,” Warwick said. “I feel like we need to go there.”
“Agreed,” Harry said. “There is no more time to lose. We must get them back.”
“We will,” Dev vowed. “And then we are leaving for Raven Castle, locking the gates, and staying there.”
After handing the key back to Mrs. Finagle, they left and returned to the others. Dev relayed the story.
“I’m sorry, James.”
The duke looked at Dev. “That my father was a traitorous, evil man?”
“Yes.”
“He is nothing to me. All that matters is getting my sisters back.”
Everyone agreed.
“I never knew exactly what you went through when Emily was taken,” Warwick said to Cam when they were once again on their horses. “But now I do.”
“It’s like your heart has been ripped from your chest?”
“Yes.”
“We will find them, little brother. Put your trust in us as we often have in you.”
“She’s…” He couldn’t find the words. “Important to me” sounded pathetic when he considered what Samantha meant to him. Vital was more accurate.
She was his Raven.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Samantha had no idea where they were being taken, only what she saw from the occasional streetlamp.
Across from them sat Blanchet and his sister, who was likely not Blanchet, with a pistol pointed at them. Thankfully he’d removed the gags once the carriage started moving.
