Page 96 of A Figure of Love

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It was barely light when they reached the long drive that led to Rushton Park.

Serena tucked loose curls beneath her hat and straightened her crushed, wrinkled clothing. Naturally, Gareth somehow managed to look cool and unruffled, even though she’d ridden him as savagely as any Ascot jockey.

“You know our arrival like this—” she gave a general wave to encompass everything, “alone and together in your carriage—will scandalize the neighborhood.”

He cocked an eyebrow with puzzled unconcern. “Does that bother you?” The question showed even more than his expression that it did not bother him.

“I do try not to leave scandal in my wake. But, no, I cannot say I am terribly bothered.”

“We will be married soon and people will forget all about this.”

She smiled at his bland tone and impassive expression. She loved knowing that only she—out of everyone—saw the real, passionate man beneath his tightly controlled exterior. Her happiness dimmed slightly when she thought of the part of himself he kept secret even from her, but she had a lifetime to learn about him and help him overcome whatever made him sleep alone.

Gareth leaned forward, his eyes on the window, the skin around them tightening subtly.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. It looks like every servant on the property is out in front of the house.”

“Perhaps Jessup has brought them out to welcome us?”

“Perhaps.” He did not sound convinced.

Serena leaned across him to look as they pulled up to the house. Dozens of eyes stared back at her, none of them happy or welcoming.

Gareth opened the door and kicked down the steps before the carriage had even stopped moving.

Declan pushed through the crowd toward them as Gareth assisted Serena down from the carriage, her eyes already flickering through the assemblage, looking for one small figure.

Her heart staggered and beat so hard it felt it might knock a hole through her chest. Things slowed and sharpened and Serena felt as though she were moving through heavy air as her eyes swept back and forth ever more rapidly.

“Oliver. Where is Oliver?” The words were mumbled, as if her lips were numb. “Oliver.”

“It’s the boy,” Declan said, his face like a wall of granite. “He has been taken. We found this only a quarter of an hour ago.” He held out a grubby folded slip of paper.

Serena’s arm wouldn’t obey any commands of her brain so it was Gareth who opened the piece of paper. He looked down at her. “It’s Bardot. He has taken Oliver and will not tell us where he is until I pay him £5,000.”

Only when Gareth’s arm came around her did Serena realize she was falling.

∞∞∞

Gareth was not surprised Serena’s mind had simply shut down. He knew as well as anyone how one horror heaped on another and another would eventually trigger the body’s best response to save itself from madness. He had wondered at the fortitude she had exhibited after her escape from a week-long incarceration. Her face had been thinner, a sure sign of suffering even if her smiles and apparent strength might have led him to believe she was untouched. He knew she had believed she would die in that shack—and the guilt of leading him there to join her must have been overwhelming.

Her French servant, a hatchet-faced woman who appeared to give even Jessup reason to pause, had shooed him from Serena’s room like a bothersome fly. “Go away. If you want to help her, bring back her son.”

Gareth agreed, so he’d left. But part of his mind was still back in that room with her, when he needed all his wits with him now.

“I’m not alone in this. We’ll be watching you closely, so don’t attempt to send messengers to either the authorities or your man in London, Steele.

Tomorrow you may send one rider to withdraw the money from your bank in London. A messenger will arrive the following morning to tell you where to take the money. Once you have delivered it, another messenger will arrive to tell you where to find the boy. Do not deviate from these instructions.”

He looked up at Declan. “Tell me again what we know.”

Dec nodded and took a deep breath. “One of the housemaids saw him arrive. He must have left his carriage or horse hidden somewhere and walked to the house.” He scratched his head and frowned. “That was the first thing we did—look for any sign of him or any trace of a possible accomplice. We found nothing.”

Gareth did not think that was surprising. The property was vast and there were hundreds of places a person could hide.