‘Petal, none of this is your fault. I need you to know that. We will stop all these bad people, but I need your help. I need you to be brave and tell us what happened that day. Do you think you can do that?’
Melissa nodded hesitantly.
‘I was walking through the woodland path when I heard a noise in the trees, but I couldn’t see anything. I called out, but no one answered, so I got scared and started to run. Then I heard someone running behind me. I didn’t look back—I just ran. But then...’ Her voice wavered. ‘He grabbed me and picked me up.’
Grace stroked her hair reassuringly. ‘You are doing so well. Tell me, did you see his face?’
Melissa shook her head. ‘No, he had riding gloves on, and he covered my face with something. I—I couldn’t breathe properly, and then everything went black.’
‘Do you remember anything else? Anything distinctive—his voice, his scent?’
Melissa shook her head again. Then, suddenly, she paused.
‘When he grabbed me, I saw something. A blade. It had "B.A." engraved on it.’ She swallowed hard. ‘There was blood on it.I was terrified that he might use it on me. After that, I do not remember anything else.’
A heavy silence fell over them.
The girls were to remain at the safe house under the care of the housekeeper, with Taylor also keeping watch until it was safe to return them to their families.
When Grace rose to leave, all three girls pleaded, ‘Please don’t go, Miss Skye.’
Their voices were so full of fear that she nearly relented. But she could not stay.
She gave them a reassuring smile. ‘I will see you very soon.’
With that promise, she returned to the waiting carriage, where the Duke remained stony silent. As the carriage rumbledover the cobbled streets, she stole another glance at him. His breathing was measured but heavy, like a man forcing himself to maintain control.
A single thought crossed her mind, sending a shiver through her—he was furious.
But at whom? At the men responsible for the kidnappings? At himself for not getting there sooner? Or... ather?
Grace swallowed, debating whether to speak, but the Duke’s shoulders remained taut, his body turned slightly away from her. It was a clear signal that he did not wish to be disturbed. Or was he merely trying to keep himself together? She clenched her hands in her lap, a deep unease settling over her.
The silence between them grew unbearable.
Dawn was fast approaching, and they were in a race against time to return before either of them was missed.
Chapter 21
Grace and the Duke arrived at her bedroom door just in time, slipping inside before the household stirred. She was astonished when he followed her in instead of returning to his own chambers. His expression remained troubled, his gaze steely and unreadable.
Breaking the silence, she ventured, ‘I know it is disappointing that the murder suspect still eludes us, but I think we can rule out Lord Harry. He cannot run.’ She hoped this would ease his mood, but his glare remained unwavering.
Unable to hold back any longer, she snapped, ‘Ever since you rescued the girls, you have been looking at me like a demented gargoyle!’
His expression darkened further, but she pressed on. ‘I would have thought you’d be pleased with our success today. We saved those poor girls! I know Melissa not seeing her kidnapper was a blow, but at least we have another clue. What is the matter with you?’
If his mood had been sour before, it was downright thunderous now. Grace bit her lip, realising she had overstepped. He was not a man accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner—least of all by a country spinster. But the words were said and could not be taken back.
Before she could react, he stepped forward, crowding her space. She instinctively backed away, only to collide with her dressing table. There was nowhere left to go. The only thing she could do was lift her chin in rebellion—another mistake. Hishands came down on her shoulders, firm and unyielding, his dark gaze burning with restrained fury.
‘You promised me that you would stay in the carriage,’ he ground out. ‘What if the guards had seen you? What if it wasn’t us coming out of that building? Do you realise what could have happened?’ His voice shook—just slightly—but enough for her to notice. It wasn’t just anger. It was something else. Something deeper.
At last, she understood the source of his temper. But his rough handling only fuelled her own. She shoved him—hard.
All her pent-up frustration, her broken heart, and her disappointments channelled into her small hands.
He stepped back, startled.
