Page 86 of Barbarous

“You will not!” She hurled the words at his head like a club. “Every word that leaves your mouth only proves you have more hair than wit. The two of you lovelorn dunces would only make a hash of it. That gel knows as much about social strictures as I know about that wretched philosophical claptrap she and Thomas were so fond of boring on about.” She shot Hugh a look of supreme contempt. “I shall manage this and contrive to pass everything off creditably. I daresay I’ve dealt with greater challenges in my day than sorting out the likes of you two.” Her face creased into an impish expression that made her resemble a wicked fairy. “You’ve got more money than God, boy, and none of our set will be able to stop themselves from paying court to your wealth. Now,” she said, her tone businesslike and abrupt, “get out.” She flicked her hands in a shooing motion toward the door. “No need for you to be lurching around here any longer.”

Hugh could only grin in the face of such an onslaught. “Thank you, Aunt Letitia. As usual, it has taken only a small dose of your company to put me back in my place.”

“Ha!” The old lady almost smiled but narrowly avoided the unprecedented action thanks to the entrance of her ancient lady’s maid, who pointedly showed Hugh the way out of her mistress’s chambers.

After leaving his aunt, Hugh had one more errand: a visit to Rundell and Bridge.

Hugh already possessed a king’s ransom in jewelry and gems, but he wanted to give Daphne something that was not some corsair’s ill-gotten booty.

He pondered the selection for longer than he expected and was on the verge of making a special order when he saw the ring Daphne needed: the biggest star sapphire he’d ever laid eyes on, its cabochon shape surrounded by diamonds. It was the only thing he’d ever seen that came close to being the same beautiful blue as her eyes.

* * *

Hugh took out his watch for the umpteenth time. Where the devil was she? She should have been back an hour ago. He was just about to ring for a servant when the door burst open and two disheveled and babbling boys burst into the library with Ponsby directly behind them.

Hugh stood. “What is it, Ponsby?” he asked as the boys launched themselves at him.

“I . . . I’m not quite sure, my lord,” Ponsby stammered.

“Where is Lady Davenport?”

“I don’t know. I’ve had Miss Claxton carried upstairs and summoned the doctor. She is unconscious and I can get nothing from the boys other than . . . well, it sounds as if Lady Davenport has been abducted, my lord.” His face was whiter than parchment. “The footman who was with them, young Charles, was struck on the head and can recall nothing that happened after leaving the house to go to Hyde Park.”

The boys’ small bodies were racked with sobs.

“Give me a few minutes alone, Ponsby.”

The butler left and Hugh carefully disentangled both boys and dropped to his haunches in front of them.

“Lucien, Richard, I need you to attend me.” He held each of them by a shoulder. “Come now,” he said, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You must tell me what has befallen your mother and Rowena. Richard?” He looked toward the generally more composed of the two boys.

Richard gulped hard several times, knuckling his eyes to rub away his tears. “There were two men,” he said in a wobbly voice. “They came upon us as we were throwing the boomerang. Lucien threw it into the trees and when we went to find it the smaller man grabbed him. The other man had just taken me by the arm when Mama found us. She yelled at them to let us go—” He made another loud gulping noise but couldn’t hold back a watery sob.

“Steady on, man,” Hugh murmured. “You’re doing fine.”

Richard sniffed loudly a few times before resuming his story. “She tried to take me from the man, but he grabbed her instead. We both struggled but could not get free until we heard a terrible scream, and the man lost his grip on me.”

“I hit the man between the legs with the boomerang, sir,” Lucien said, emerging from his misery, tearstained but proud. “I ran toward Mama and tried to help her but she yelled at us over and over, sir, telling us to run to Rowena. So we did, we ran—and they took her!” His voice broke and he sobbed.

Hugh hugged both boys to his chest. “You fought bravely, but you could not hold off two grown men, and your mama would not have wanted you to be taken as well. What you can do now is help me find her. You must be calm and think, think hard and fast about anything you can remember. What did the carriage look like? Did the men say anything that you remember? Think, boys, is there anything?”

“The carriage,” Lucien said, his words muffled by Hugh’s jacket.

Hugh leaned back. “What about the carriage?”

“The man holding me almost put me into a carriage before I bit his hand. It was very old and ugly—the carriage, not his hand. There was only half a crest but I think it was a horse on a field of green.” His face scrunched up in thought. “And some red and white checks, maybe.”

The Hastings crest. Hugh had seen it many times in his youth. That bloody bastard! And Hugh had been a stupid bastard to release him. Now Daphne and her sons were paying for his stupidity.

“Hugh?” Lucien’s frightened voice pulled him back from the brink of rage.

Hugh forced a smile onto his face. “Good work, Lucien. Can you recall anything else? Did they perhaps say where they were taking you?”

“He only said we would be going for a long ride and if I was good I’d get to go on a boat. But that is all, sir. He no longer spoke to me after I bit him,” he added.

Richard broke in. “The man Lucien bit called out to the other man to take Mama and that it was she who was wanted, and then he said something I couldn’t understand.” His pale, tearstained face crumpled. “Rowena is hurt badly, Cousin Hugh. Do you think she will die?”

Hugh had no idea but he could hardly say that. “She is a tough lady. Tell me what happened to her. Was she with you?”