Jamie strode to the window. He tried but failed to shake thefeeling that the searchers could not be trusted. The kidnapping had to be the act of insiders.
Jamie would rather search than wait like a kept dog for the count’s orders. If he could retrace the search of the Palazzo on his own, he might turn up a clue.
He couldn’t remember where Eduardo had looked. Giovanni, with his typical good sense, had suggested they start in the cellars, the farthest point from the nursery. Jamie would begin with the cellars.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Nora arrived at the Palazzo soon after the count left with one discreet bodyguard. She dismissed Wat Jones with whispered instructions to follow them discreetly.
Ten minutes later she thought she would scream if one more patronizing servant attempted to mollify her. Mrs. Bently’s husband had been there, but his whereabouts were unknown to any of the upper servants.
Her footsteps echoed on the marble hallways of the formal court wing of the palace. Her rising voice bounced off walls.
“My niece is missing. This is no idle visit. I demand to know where my husband went!”
The housekeeper had been called in to soothe the wild woman who spoke their language so poorly. “I do not know, madam. I have been told he is not with the count. That is all I can tell you. The facts will not change if I tell you again.” The dragon’s voice rose also. With a flick of her skirt, she left Nora gaping.
“Signora?” a soft voice called from a partially opened door. A tiny girl, clearly one of the lowest in the servant hierarchy, peered out. “You seek the Major Bently?” she whispered.
“Do you know where my husband went?” Nora demanded.
“I came to clean. He—” the girl glanced over her shoulder, embarrassed “—had an accident with the lunch.”
Nora saw an overturned lunch table and broken glass in the room behind the girl. “Was there an argument?”
“I cannot say. His Lordship left, and the Major…” She shrugged eloquently.
“But where is he?”
“I do not know, but I heard him ask the way to the cellars.” The girl looked furtively down the hall and began to withdraw.
“Wait! Did he go there?”
The girl shrugged. “That is all I heard.” She began to shut the door in Nora’s face.
“Wait!” Nora exclaimed. “What is your name?”
The answer came as a faint whisper, the sound mingled with the hush of the closing door. “Clara.”
Nora stomped back toward the entrance. The footman stationed there looked at her with lazy indifference.
“Can you tell me how to find the cellars?” she asked.
He looked affronted. Guests did not wander the count’s cellars.
“I believe Major Bently has gone there,” she said. “I wish to find him.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“I need to find the cellars, you oaf!”
Suddenly, the footman transformed his insolent slouch into an attentive stance. “What about the cellars?” a familiar voice broke in. Nora’s tension eased. She looked around, with relief, to find Giovanni approaching.
“Giovanni, thank goodness! Have you seen Major Bently?”
“He sent word there would be no tutorial today, understandably. Isn’t he with Castellimonte?”
“There must have been word from the kidnappers, but the count went out alone. Someone overheard my husband asking for the cellars,” she told him.
