Charlie had had his face buried against Jonathan’s side as grief overwhelmed him, but at the urgency in Jonathan’s voice, he glanced up.
Jonathan’s face was painted with flickering shadows in the moonlight, but the sadness and fear were still there.
“We have to move,” Jonathan said, cupping the side of Charlie’s face. “Dalhurst is coming this way.”
Charlie caught his breath and swallowed hard. He’d made so many mistakes already. It would be another one entirely for him to give in to defeat and let himself and Jonathan be caught.
He nodded and stood when Jonathan did, imitating his master and pressing his back against the wall of the orangery. Dalhurst was nearby, but he seemed to be interested in something having to do with the cottage, something Charlie couldn’t see.
“Back to the house,” Jonathan whispered, as if Charlie had any doubt about where they needed to go.
They took a few tentative steps in the dark, but were stopped right away when a man other than Dalhurst said, “You’d do well to search the area. Hammond was certain the boy would try to rescue Lord Fabian, and since Moorgate left supper early, he’s sure to be helping him.”
Jonathan grabbed Charlie’s arm and squeezed hard. Charlie wanted to turn and throw himself into Jonathan’s arms in return, his fear was so powerful. They both seemed to know that any hesitation on their part could lead to their discovery and capture.
Charlie didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were captured.
“They aren’t in their room,” a third voice, Davidson’s voice, said.
“Which means they must be out here somewhere,” Dalhurst said.
Charlie glanced desperately around for any means of escape. Jonathan stood straighter and scanned the area, too. He must have seen something favorable, because he drew in a breath, shifted to hold Charlie’s hand, then pulled him hurriedly along the length of the greenhouse.
Charlie wanted to stop and ask where they were going and what they should do to keep themselves alive. He’d ended up inthe wrong place, cornered in a dark alley, on the street a few too many times in the past, so he was painfully aware of what they were up against. He was unsure whether Jonathan had ever been in a situation like that before. Considering how relatively easy Jonathan’s life had been, Charlie wasn’t certain of that at all.
“This way,” Jonathan whispered with a bit more authority, tugging Charlie away from the greenhouse.
They were forced to dash across a length of open grass, exposing themselves to anyone who might be looking in their direction. The moon had just gone behind a cloud as they broke out into the open, though, and even though it wasn’t much in the way of concealment, it was all they had to get them down the sloping hill toward one of the clusters of trees that had been artfully placed across Fairford House’s grounds.
As soon as they were cloaked by the trees, Jonathan paused, pulling Charlie into his arms as he rested his back against a thick oak.
“Listen,” Jonathan panted, clutching him against his pounding heart.
Charlie didn’t need the order. He pressed one cheek to Jonathan’s shoulder, but with his other ear, he listened as hard as he could for anything that would hint they’d been discovered.
“Did the carriage already collect him?” a new, faint voice joined those at the top of the slope, near the orangery. Hammond’s voice.
Dalhurst answered, but they were too far away for Charlie to make out anything that was said. It was maddening to know an entire conversation had begun that likely involved not only Fabian, but discussion of their whereabouts, and Charlie couldn’t hear any of it.
“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Jonathan echoed his thoughts, his body tense and hot. “We need to get farther away.”
Charlie nodded, rubbing his face against Jonathan’s shoulder, then pushed back.
He stared at Jonathan in the guttering moonlight. It was almost too dark to see him, but it hardly mattered. Charlie imagined that he could feel the things Jonathan was thinking. He believed Charlie now. He believed everything Charlie had told him about the necessity of hurrying to rescue Fabian.
It hardly mattered at this point.
“Search the area,” Hammond called out. “If they can’t be found in the house, it means they’re out here somewhere.”
“Come,” Jonathan said.
He pushed away from the tree, taking Charlie’s hand again and leading him through the wood.
It was maddening that the wood was only a small patch of trees instead of something they could get lost in. Clearly, the estate’s grounds hadn’t been designed to hide in. As soon as Charlie and Jonathan stepped out of the other side of the wood, they were in full view of whomever might be looking for them again.
“Hurry,” Jonathan said, gripping Charlie’s hand tightly and dashing with him to the next patch of trees, slightly farther down the hill.
They couldn’t hear anyone following them, but Charlie doubted that meant no one was looking for them. Of course they would be. Men who kept a young nobleman naked and chained so that he could be used and sold did not simply give up searching for men who knew the truth and might tell someone.
