Page 97 of A Figure of Love

“Who was the last person to see Oliver and when?”

“The old nurse. She said he finished his work at three and said he was going down to the library to find some book he had been searching for over the course of the last few days.”

Gareth nodded. Bardot had come into the house. “So, he has been gone . . . ” he looked at his watch, even though he had looked at it so often he knew already what time it was, “perhaps four hours. Oliver must have gone willingly. I cannot imagine Bardot dragging a struggling ten-year-old down the drive without anyone noticing.”

“Yes, that was our conclusion, as well. He could have gotten into the house through the sunroom, the orangery, the library itself, or any of a half-dozen other ways. He must have been fairly comfortable with the house.”

Gareth thought of what Serena had told him. She might have stopped Bardot from roaming that night he stayed, but who was to say he did not come back some other time? He was a lifelong criminal who must be a master of escaping capture to even be in England after his actions during the War.

“I am going to assume he has conspirators. I am also going to assume they are watching our comings and goings. It is moonless, so we could not send anyone against his instructions even if we wished. With the servants all in position I believe we will see anyone before they can see us.” As soon as it became dark enough, Gareth had positioned servants at various points around the house, including the roof. If anyone approached the house from any direction, they would be noticed.

“Have you considered this is all a ruse and he may have men waiting on whomever goes to collect the money in London?”

He had. “I think it possible. But part of me thinks they would not wish to have a solitary rider with so much money, a perfect target for thieves, unless they were planning to be those thieves. That is why I will go tomorrow.” He could not send a servant into such danger.

“No, I will go.”

Gareth opened his mouth, but Declan held up his hand.

“She will need you here, Gareth. And if something goes wrong—if we are wrong in thinking they will rob the courier. Or if the courier gets robbed by some other thief. . .” Worry twisted his harsh features. “You will need to help her and it might be you will have to make some difficult decisions.”

Gareth knew he was right.

“Let me do this for you, Brother.”

Who else could go? Who else did he trust more than Declan? Nobody.

He nodded.

“Good. I will leave at the first crack of daylight. I was thinking I might—”

Declan’s voice faded away as the idea struck him. Of course! What a fool he’d been.

He stood and headed for the door.

Declan’s chair scraped behind him. “Where are you going?”

“The dogs.”

∞∞∞

Serena resisted the pull toward consciousness, but she had to swallow the liquid or drown. She gulped convulsively and coughed—and then gulped again.

“Bon,” a voice said.

Serena was not dreaming, nor awake, but in some in between place. She was hiding. From something bad.

Oliver.

She sat up abruptly, frantic. “Oliver!”

“Shh, now, you are doing yourself no good.” This in French, the words harsh yet still soothing. Nounou stood on the other side of the bed, her hands busy with a glass on the bedside table.

Serena shoved off the blankets, swung her feet off the bed, and promptly slid to the floor. She looked up to find the room tilting back and forth in a way that caused her gorge to rise.

“Nounou.” The word was a hollow croak and her head tipped back, unwilling to stay upright on her shoulders.

Strong hands lifted her like a rag doll and laid her gently on the bed. A door shut, and somebody pulled the blanket up around her.