“I thought you said you did not think she took him.”
“I do not. But until we have found him, I will not risk it. Once we have, however, I shall have him send out the hunt.”
Overhead, the darkening sky rumbled with distant thunder. Catherine thought of the way Oliver had clung to her hand the first time he had encountered a storm. He had shaken like a leaf in the wind, his eyes wide, whimpering at every sound.
Please, God, let him be safe. Let us find him. Let me be wrong.She wanted to believe Alaric, but how could she? The woman had been desperate enough to poison Alaric; what if she had kidnapped Oliver?
“Let us loop through the e astern gardens. Oliver likes to play in the forest nearby.” Alaric’s voice jerked Catherine back to the present.
She nodded numbly. The sky continued to darken as they moved through the grounds, crying out for Oliver. She heard the voices of the servants echoing around them, and with each voice, her stomach sank a little more.
“Oliver! Daisy!” A chorus of voices called out, each echoing.
Overhead, another low rumble of thunder rolled across the estate. She saw Alaric looking from her to the sky. “You should wait at the house.”
“I am not going back until we have found him.” Catherine shook her head. “I cannot.”
Thick droplets of rain started to fall from the sky, and she drew her coat around her. “I wish I knew more of hunting and such. Perhaps then I could track him.”
Catherine tried to keep the powerlessness she felt from her voice. Alaric ran a hand through his hair. “It would not help. This rain will make it impossible to find tracks.”
If there areeven any to be found.Catherine forced herself to focus on looking for Oliver. She strained her eyes, hoping to catch sight of Daisy’s familiar body or Oliver’s hair.
I do not even know what he was wearing.
Suddenly, she saw a flash of white in a bush and hurried toward it, only to find a discarded handkerchief. Another time, Alaric suddenly stopped, looked into the branches of a tree, and then shook his head.
With each passing moment, the weight in Catherine’s chest grew heavier. The rain soaked them to their skin, but she barely noticed. She was numb. She screamed for Oliver as loudly as she could, regardless of how it strained her voice.
“Oliver!” she cried again and again, Alaric echoing her calls.
She heard him whistle and looked around, praying that she would see the familiar sight of Daisy sprinting toward her. Nothing happened; the only disturbance was leaves in the wind and rain.
“If she has taken him, I will never forgive myself.” Catherine hiked her skirts up as she waded through the thick mud. “I should have seen this. I should have stopped it.”
She kept her voice low, not wanting Alaric to hear her. Her eyes kept drifting toward him. His face was emotionless, but she could see that his body was like a tightly coiled spring. His shouts were growing hoarser, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that she could see every muscle in his neck tense with the effort.
She knew he would not stop searching.If he collapses, that will be yet another thing to layat my feet.She had let the poisoner into the house; she was the reason they were in the pouring rain, searching for a little boy and his dog.
The numbness mingled with shame, a toxic wave coursing through her body.There will be time enough for pity.She forced one foot in front of the other.
“Where are you?” she cried out, battling to be heard over the wind.
Thunder roared, her only response. She had no idea how long they had been searching. It seemed like hours. The dark sky made it impossible to tell. Every part of her was soaked, but she did not care.
She was unsure which was worse: the thought of Oliver being dragged with his puppy by an attempted murderer into some unknown place or Oliver hiding somewhere, scared and soaked.
A servant emerged from the storm. “Your Grace, please, we need to call off the search! It is not safe.”
“Take the Duchess with you, have rooms made up, and the fires readied. I will keep searching.” Alaric reached for Catherine as though to guide her toward the servant, but she darted out of his grip.
“If you stay, so do I.” She glared at him. “I will not leave you here.”
“Your Grace...” the servant began again, but Catherine interrupted him.
“Ensure the fires are lit, and there are dry clothes for us to change into. We will need them once we have found Oliver.”
The servant nodded, opened his mouth as if to protest, then shut it abruptly. Catherine watched him leave and turned to face Alaric.
