A stool scraped across the floorboards, jerking him out of his dizziness. He blinked hard, clearing his vision in time to see Ava sitting down in front of him on a stool, her face set and serious.
"What happened?" Ava said, as soon as he met her eye. "Where's Paisley?"
"I think something is very wrong," Dominic gasped.
"Tell me."
"Everything was going well at the dance. Then Maither introduced us to an Englishman. Some rich, titled sod, ye know the type."
"Aye, I do. Go on."
Dominic raked a hand through his hair. He knew it would leave his curls sticking up haphazardly but couldn't find it in himself to care.
"Paisley was terrified of him. She went running off into the crowd. This was close to two hours ago, and we've been searching for her ever since. We can't find her."
Ava swallowed hard, her jaw clenching. "And this man, the strange Englishman? Where's he?"
"I daenae know. He left soon after."
"I see. What's his name?"
"Lord Ainsley. I thought perhaps he might be her faither, or brother, or..."
Ava let out a shocking curse, the type of curse that even Dominic balked at using. She leapt to her feet, pacing back and forth in front of the fire.
"That's not her faither or brother, ye fool!" she yelped. "That's the man that they're forcing her to marry! He's the one after her! She's terrified he'll catch her!"
The reality of the situation crashed over him, and Dominic felt as if he were going to throw up.
"He's taken her," he gasped. "He must have done."
An abrupt hammering came at the door, making them both jump.
"Who is it?" Ava shouted, snatching up the poker and holding it like a sword."
"It's me," came Thomas' muffled voice. "And Emma. We left Colby and Veronica at the Keep. They're still looking for her, but we know she's not there."
Cold fear ran through Dominic's veins. He gripped the sides of the armchair until his knuckles stood out white.
"Oh, everyone in, then," Ava muttered, replacing the poker. "Come in, since me landlord doesn't respect me privacy in the slightest. Come in, quickly."
Thomas and Emma stepped inside, white-faced and shaken. They smelled of night air and horse sweat, the cold coming off them in waves. Dominic took one look at their grim faces and knew that it wasn't good news. He conjured up an image of Paisley, dead in a ditch with her throat cut from ear to ear, and squeezed his eyes closed.
"Tell them what ye saw, Emma," Thomas said grimly.
She took a deep breath and launched into her story.
"I was goin' along the hall with a patient, and Paisley passed me with a gentleman. He was tall and a wee bit weaselly, wore a fine silk coat. Blue, it was. She looked a bit strained, and I thought it was odd that she didn't greet me. She dinnae even look at me, but I was preoccupied with me patient so I dinnae think much of it."
"Was he draggin' her along? Was she afraid?" Dominic pressed.
Emma bit her lip. "Aye, I think she was afraid, but I didn't realize it at the time. He wasn't pulling her or dragging her, but his hand was at her back, and he could have had a knife there. That would explain why she didn't ask for help. I'm so sorry, Dominic. If I'd done something, said something..."
"He would have cut your throat and taken her anyway," Thomas said quickly. "Dominic, listen. There's good news. The Englishman came in a fancy carriage, all silk and satin and fur on the inside, the showiest thing ye have ever seen. Because of that, the stable lads were keeping a good eye on it. Shortly after Paisley ran off, they saw the Englishman and Paisley get into the carriage and drive off. They saw which way it headed. We can follow them. If we ride, we might be able to catch up. A carriage like that willnae be able to travel fast in the woods."
"He took her into the woods?" Dominic muttered. "Just wait till I catch him."
There was a plan now. Feeling more energized, Dominic got to his feet.
