“What is this?” demanded the Count di Castellimonte as he swept into the room. A few members of his entourage followed, Eduardo among them.
Jamie explained, fear making his voice harsh. At the sound, Nora’s panic threatened to spiral out of control.
“I’ll check this hall,” Eduardo offered. “Perhaps she ran off, and the maid had to pursue.” Jamie looked like he wanted to pull him back, but the young man went off like a shot.
The housekeeper opened nursery bedrooms and the empty room that would have housed a live-in nursery maid. “Nothing here,” she said.
“Try the cupboards,” Jamie said grimly.
“Foolish,” the woman spat, as she yanked open a storage cupboard. “What could possibly be—” Her shriek drew all their eyes to what looked at first glance like a bundle of clothes that had fallen off one of the deep shelves.
The maid lay with her throat cut, covered with blood, and eyes wide open.
Darkness began to envelop Nora, but she fought it off. “Dead,” she heard Jamie tell the count. “Dead,” echoed in her head. She refused to faint as she had the first time she came to Palazzo Savoia.
She rushed to her husband. “Not Isabella,” she said, gulping air. “The maid but not Isabella.” She beat on his chest with her fists until he took them gently in his big hands and pulled her into an embrace.
“Find her, Jamie. You have to find her,” she cried.
Chapter Thirty
“Seal the doors.”
Castellimonte gave the order before Jamie could react. He looked at the old man over Nora’s head.
“It may be too late,” he said.
Nora choked.
“Too late to catch the kidnappers,” he clarified, kissing her face. He cradled her in his arms.
Guards, footmen, and courtiers of every level and function began to converge on the upper story.
“We will send a patrol out to the streets,” Castellimonte said.
“This happened inside your household,” Jamie retorted.
Eduardo skidded back into the room. “Nothing,” he panted. “Not on this hall.”
“Search every corner from attics to basement,” Castellimonte ordered. The men began to divide into groups. Eduardo led one group to retrace his steps, checking cupboards in every empty room.
Giovanni, who had arrived soon after the count, recruited two footmen. “We’ll start at the other end, in the cellars,” he said.
“Where is Luciano?” Jamie asked.
“Passed out in his room,” Giovanni said over his shoulder. He hurried out.
The count conferred with the captain of his guard. Patrols would fan out in three directions.
“What will they look for?” Jamie asked. “Simple-minded thugs dragging a screaming girl?”
The count ignored him. Jamie thought furiously. He had no idea how many of the searchers they could really trust. Whoever took Isabella did it silently and under Castellimonte’s nose.
“Come, we will wait,” the count ordered.
“No.” Jamie would not take orders. “I’m not going to sit and wait,” he said. He needed Wat Jones. The two of them could at least scour the gutters of Rome.
“Your time may be best spent comforting your wife,” Castellimonte pointed out.
