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Chapter Twenty-Eight

A fter his brother and Randall left the room, Zeke checked his pocket watch. Late. Soon, breakfast would be cleared from the sideboard. Damn it, why hadn’t she come down yet? Was she so mortified by last night’s events?

Didn’t she know he’d only pushed the bounds of their relationship because she’d agreed to marry him?

As to that, the sooner the better. To date Kitty hadn’t proven herself the most practical girl when it came to marriage, but he assumed she’d be on board with the idea of a hasty wedding.

After all, she loved him.

He’d be happy to ask her opinion on the matter. If she ever came downstairs.

“What’s got you all bothered?” his grandfather demanded. “When you first walked in here, you seemed grand.”

Zeke cocked his head, considered his grandfather’s words, then said, “Matter of fact, there is something on my mind. Something I wish to share with both of you, as it happens, since you’re both privy to certain pertinent facts.”

“You actually plan to marry our girl, am I right?” the earl surmised, calm as you please.

Zeke frowned. “Yes. How did you guess?”

The earl waved a dismissive hand. “It was only a matter of time.”

“Oh, dear,” Aunt Lillian said.

Both men turned to look at her.

“I wasn’t sure I should say anything, but now…” She trailed off, her expression pained.

“Say anything about what?” Zeke demanded.

“Late yesterday afternoon, after Dr. Caswell arrived, and Kitty and I adjourned to the corridor outside Ezekiel’s chamber, she was beside herself. She kept muttering something about it all having been her fault, and a few choice words concerning the good doctor I’d rather not repeat.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Zeke’s mouth. “She was upset. Seems a normal reaction for a concerned fiancé.”

“You didn’t see her. You don’t know,” Lillian insisted. “I suggested she retire to her chamber, or the family parlor at the end of the hall, at the very least. She wouldn’t hear of it. Not knowing what else to do for her, I finally went to fetch her a cup of tea.

“When I returned, Kitty was nowhere in sight. I first thought she’d retired. Then I noticed the parlor door stood ajar. I tiptoed toward the room, not wanting to intrude if she was resting. I heard voices.”

Zeke stiffened. He and his grandfather exchanged a meaningful look.

Had James waylaid her? Zeke remembered now she’d been crying. If her cousin had harmed her, if he’d so much as frightened her, Zeke would tear him apart. Slowly. “James’s voice among them, no doubt?”

To his surprise, Lillian shook her head. “I listened a moment. Not to eavesdrop, you understand, but because I know the danger her guardian—er, previous guardian—poses.” Her eyes narrowed. “Finally I heard Kitty call the man by name. Collin.”

Impatience stirred within Zeke. So Kitty and her brother had a private conversation. So what. “Go on.”

“It was obvious their conversation was upsetting Kitty.”

The earl cocked a brow. “Why do you say that, Lill?”

“Because she was crying.”

Zeke stifled a sigh. “Didn’t you say she’d been crying over my injury?”

“Yes. I thought the same, until I heard her ask Lord Hastings if there wasn’t some other way.”

Lillian broke off a moment to reflect. “Yes, those were her exact words. Collin, isn’t there some other way? To which he replied, quite testily, no, there wasn’t, and how could she think of objecting after all he’d been through.”

She took a moment to lock eyes with both men, alternately. “He also told her she mustn’t to breathe a word of their plans to any member of the Claybourne household. He made her promise.”

The earl’s white brows furrowed with concern. “What could he have asked her to do he would demand her to keep secret?”

Lillian frowned. “I don’t know. I stopped listening when she started crying in earnest. It broke my heart.”

Zeke slapped his palms on his thighs and rose. “One way to find out.”

Lillian’s eyes went round. “You won’t tell her I—”

Zeke gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry your pretty head, aunt. I’ll be discreet. I only plan to…”

Hell. He had no plan. Just a feeling of dread urging him to move. “…to talk to her,” he finished lamely.

“But you can’t simply descend on a lady’s private chambers. It’s not proper,” Lillian insisted.

Zeke didn’t stick around to argue the point.

A few minutes later—minutes that felt like bloody hours—he stood outside Kitty’s door. Now that he was here, he found himself somewhat chagrined. She clearly had no desire to speak with him.

On the other hand, he wasn’t leaving without answers.

He rapped twice. Waited. And waited. Rapped again, harder.

Still no response.

Something was very wrong. He grasped the doorknob, swallowing hard. “Kitty, I’m coming in,” he said loud enough for her to hear from her inner chamber. He turned the lever, and after a beat, pushed open the door.

Her sitting room was all wrong. His gaze raked the area, trying to pinpoint exactly what seemed off. Then it struck him. It was perfectly tidy, not a single item of hers in sight. He stalked forward, yanked open the adjoining door, and felt the blood drain from his face.

Kitty was gone.

Operating on instinct, he bolted from her suite, and raced down the corridor toward the bachelors’ wing. He came to James’s chamber first. He flung open the heavy walnut door, slamming it into the papered wall. Empty.

He crossed the hall to Hastings’ chamber, already knowing what he’d find.

He was gone.

Heart racing, he jammed both hands into his hair and stalked the hallway. Why? Why would they leave and take Kitty? Surely they didn’t plan to harm her. Not Hastings at any rate.

He could not lose her. Especially after last night.

“Think, damn it,” he growled to himself, and started for the stairwell.

Lillian said she’d heard Hastings demanding Kitty do something for him. Something she mustn’t tell a soul. And now he, Kitty, and James were gone.

Pounding footsteps sounded in the corridor. He looked to see Caden and Randall charging in his direction

“Zeke, what is it?” his brother demanded.

“Kitty’s gone. They’ve taken her.”

“What do you mean, Kitty’s gone?” Caden asked.

“And who’s they?” Randall added.

Zeke shoved past them.

“Where are you going?” Caden demanded.

“To the stables. I want to know when they left, and where in hell they’re going.”

“We’re coming with you,” Randall said.

“Suit yourself.”

Zeke cut a swatch through the servants’ wing and kitchens, the most expeditious means of reaching the stables.

One of the stable lads greeted him. “My lord? May I saddle a horse for you? Oh, there’s several of you here.”

“Where’s George?” Zeke asked, not bothering with the niceties.

The young groomsman’s eyes went wide with alarm. “I’ll fetch him.”

But George was already coming their way, wiping his hands on a towel. “My lords, what might I do for you? I understood only the viscount and Mr Thurgood would be leaving this afternoon.”

“My fiancé,” Zeke snarled.

George’s salt and pepper hair riffled in the wind as his gaze flicked between Zeke, Caden and Randall. “Are you asking about the party what went out this morning?”

Zeke rolled his shoulders, interlaced his fingers, cracked his knuckles.

Caden stepped forward, positioning himself between Zeke and the head groom. “Precisely, George.”

Anxiety tightened George’s features. “Is there something wrong? I only did what was asked of me.”

“Just tell us of their departure,” Caden said.

George nodded. “I got word last night to prepare Lord Hastings’ barouche for an early morning departure, and have it waiting at the carriage house, by the front gate.”

“How early?” Zeke ground out. He was incapable of pushing full sentences past his lips. His insides felt like he’d swallowed broken glass.

George cleared his throat.“They were here at the break of dawn. Roughly five hours ago, I’d say.”

Caden Frowned at Zeke. “Up at the gate house, eh? Explains why no one heard anything.”

“They said as they wanted to keep the horses quiet ’til they got a ways down the lane. Didn’t want to disturb anyone’s sleep at the main house. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Did I do wrong?” George asked for the second time.

Caden opened his mouth to speak, but Zeke beat him to it. “You did fine, George. Just fine. Now kindly saddle my mount. I’m leaving in ten.”

“We’re leaving in ten,” Caden corrected.

“Not a good idea,” Zeke tossed over his shoulder, already striding for the manse.

“Why is that?” Caden demanded, dogging his heels.

Zeke took the servant’s entrance, judging it the quickest route to his private chamber. Bloody inconvenient to bother with a change of clothes, but he could hardly drive his mount like the devil in his current state of dress. More importantly, he needed his pistol.

“Damn it, Zeke, I asked you a question.” Caden grabbed his shoulder.

Zeke shrugged him off, waiting ’til they’d cleared the kitchens to reply. “Because I wouldn’t want you dragged into a murder investigation.”

Rather than having the intended effect of shaking the two men loose, they stuck to Zeke like glue as he navigated the twists and turns of corridors leading to his suite.

He rounded the corridor leading to his chambers and found his grandfather standing sentinel outside his chamber door. Evidently he had to suffer through a damned family reunion before he could depart Chissington Hall. Bloody damned hell, couldn’t anyone see he was in a hurry?

“I take it you’ve heard the news?” Zeke reached past the old man to shove open the door. He sidled through the narrow space between his grandfather and the doorjamb. He’d made it half way through his antechamber, when Claybourne’s words froze him in his tracks.

“Zeke, I think you should read this.”

He turned. Took in the folded sheet of parchment clutched in the earl’s fist. “Did she leave me a note?”

The earl extended the letter toward Zeke.

He took the paper, and unfolded it. He scanned to the bottom and saw Kitty’s signature. He slid his grandfather a look. “I don’t understand why it was delivered to you, and not me.” He sounded petulant to his own ears.

His grandfather cleared his throat. “I am sorry, son. I found it on my desk.”

Zeke heard the words, but they didn’t sink in fully. Not 'til he read Kitty’s neatly penned note in its entirety. He fought the base urge to crumple the letter in his fist and grind his teeth 'til they cracked. Instead, he refolded the sheet with care, and handed it back to his grandfather.

The letter trembled in his hand, damn his eyes.

Caden’s voice sliced the tension-filled air. “What does it say?”

The earl answered. “It’s from Kitty. An apology and a goodbye. She says she and her brother thought it best to leave quietly, without upsetting the household.”

Zeke barked out a humorless laugh.

The earl went on. “Apparently, as Kitty’s legal guardian, her brother deemed the marriage contract agreed upon and signed by James, Ezekiel, and I, null and void.”

Zeke wanted to toss the lot of them from the room. He wanted to throw something. Break something. He wanted a drink.

Randall came toward Zeke and laid his hand on his shoulder.

The pity in his friend’s eyes whipped at the impotent rage boiling inside him. For a moment, he couldn’t speak.

Finally, he drew in a long breath and forced out the words, “Never fear, Randall, I got an honorable mention in Lady Kitty’s letter to Claybourne.

” He cocked his head and recited from memory, “Please thank Lord Thurgood for all he’s done for me, and tell him I wish him Godspeed on his forthcoming venture abroad.

Collin and I will, of course, handle the engagement retraction with the utmost discretion, in the most expedient manner possible.

Blah, blah, blah.” A joker’s smile split his face.

“A damned honorable mention,” Caden hissed, shaking his head.

The earl frowned. “Don’t leap to conclusions. We don’t know the circumstances she may have faced while writing her-her—”

“Her crying off letter?” Zeke still wore a broad, gruesome smile. He couldn’t seem to wipe it from his face.

The earl waved the damned letter in the air. “You’re all missing the point. I, for one, am not willing to assume she left on her own recognizance, not after everything she went through to be rid of James.”

Caden glanced from the earl to Zeke, his expression considering. “What, exactly, does James have to do with this? I thought it was her brother, Hastings, who nullified the marriage contract.”

“Maybe you noticed the three left the premises, en masse,” Randall said in a low voice, his eyes on his boot tips.

“And?” Caden asked.

Zeke spoke in a gravelly voice he barely recognized. “James has something Hastings wants. Hastings, as Kitty’s guardian, has something James wants.”

Caden frowned. “You’re saying…but that would mean her brother, her own flesh and blood…” His words died in his throat.

“Means to trade her for the return of his title,” Zeke finished.

Caden’s eyes went cold. He fixed his stare on Zeke. “You don’t plan to let him get away with it?”

At Caden’s question, something loosened inside of him. He had a choice here, he realized. He wasn’t a powerless youth, forced to sit on the sidelines and watch as some outside force wreaked havoc on his world. He could fix this. Take control of the situation.

“She did ask that none of us interfere in her decision,” he said.

“So you plan to leave her to the wolves.” Caden threw up his hands in disgust.

Zeke’s smile was grim. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.”

***

He rode from Chissington Hall alone, after garnering Caden’s promise to leave for London, as planned. Now, more than ever, Zeke needed answers. Anything he could use as leverage should he be forced to strong-arm Kitty’s dear brother.

With the wind burning his cheeks, he raced his mount toward Maidstone. His gut told him Hastings would take her there, to their ancestral home. He prayed to God he was right, and that her fool brother wouldn’t marry her off first.

Hastings was an experienced gambler. He ought to know to hold onto his ace—in this case his sister—'til he saw the prize—his title—on the table.

On the other hand, Hastings had a habit of losing when the stakes were high.