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Chapter Thirty-Four

Z eke, Caden, and Randall arrived at the Inn at Aylesford at half past noon. They hadn’t met Kitty’s party on the road.

His sense something was wrong had increased exponentially on the hard ride.

He’d tried to deny the gnawing sense danger had found its way to Kitty, or she to it.

He told himself he was letting his imagination run wild now he’d uncovered the truth.

But the bone deep certainty had only grown more entrenched.

He slid from his mount and handed the reins over to the stable boy practically in one move.

“Wait for me,” he called to Caden and Randall, already jogging up the steps to the entrance. He passed the front desk without responding to the clerk’s cheery hello, and took the stairs two at a time.

He tried Kitty’s door without knocking, and found it locked—a good sign. He rapped sharply, waited all of one second, then called out, “Kitty, open the door.”

No reply came.

From the corner of his eye he saw a chambermaid pop her capped head out of a neighboring room.

He turned an urgent gaze on her.

The maid came out to the hall, wiping her hands on her apron. “The lady ain’t about, m’lord.”

“She’s not on the premises?”

She shook her head.

“But she hasn’t checked out?”

“Not that I’m aware, m’lord.”

“Where is she?” he demanded.

She took a hasty step back.

He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck, and tried again. “I’m looking for my fiancé. I thought I’d find her in her room. Have you any idea where she went?”

The maid relaxed visibly. “Aye, m’lord.” She glanced around as if to ascertain no one was listening, then stepped closer to Zeke.

“I was cleaning the rooms on another floor when I seen her standing in front of her brother’s door who I knew very well wasn’t in.

When I informed her as such, she got upset.

I got the idea she was going to look for him. ”

Zeke’s skin went instantly clammy. “Thank you. That’s very helpful. About how long ago was that, would you say, miss?” His voice sounded strange. As if he were speaking from very far away.

“About two and a half hours, I’d say.” She cocked her head. “The other gentleman asked the same thing.”

Zeke’s insides froze. “The other gentleman. That would be…?”

She shook her head. “Lord James.” Her brows knitted in confusion. “He claimed he was the lady’s fiancé, now I think on it.”

“I’m sure you misunderstood. He’s a distant cousin, nothing more.”

She nodded, though uncertainty clouded her eyes.

Zeke thanked her and reached in his pocket to toss her a few coins. “If the lady returns, please tell her to wait for me here.” He started to turn away, then added, “Lord Thurgood. Her fiancé.”

***

At the stables, Zeke quickly informed Caden and Randall of the situation.

“They haven’t left town, but none of them are on premises. Additionally, the three left separately. According to the inn’s staff, no one’s seen Hastings come or go since he went out, day one.

“Kitty went off on a tear this morning, apparently on the hunt for him. James, it seems, left after that, looking for her.”

Zeke felt downright grim. He’d known something was wrong.

“Any idea where to start?” Caden asked.

He had only one clue to go on—Kitty’s possible sighting of Hastings’ friend, Peters.

“We’ll start at the tobacconist shop. Kitty mentioned it the other night. Said she thought she’d seen a friend of her brother’s near the alley.”

They set out on foot. The town wasn’t large, and Zeke decided the horses might prove a hindrance in small, tight places, like alleyways behind tobacco shops.

The scent of baked goods, roasted meats, and sweets filled the air the closer they got to the ongoing fete.

Sounds of laughter and conversation, of street vendors hawking their wares and buggies traveling the cobbled streets merged into a growing cacophony of noise—yet Zeke could still hear his own breathing.

Could make out the distinct beat his heart. The clip of his boots on the street.

He needed to find Kitty. Needed to see her. Touch her with his hands. Nothing would be right until then.

“Is that the shop?” Caden pointed to the corner ahead.

Zeke’s gaze followed the direction of Caden’s finger, then shifted slightly to the alley behind the building. The hair on his nape stirred. “That’s it. Let’s go.”

He crossed the street.

Caden and Randall followed, but remained a few feet behind as if they sensed his animalistic need to claim the territory. He would find something here. Something that would lead him to Kitty.

He stepped into the dark, narrow passage and started forward. Immediately, the sounds of the bustling town receded.

Halfway down the alley, he spotted a large, weathered door. Just past the door, someone had deposited what looked like a sack of refuse.

The low, weak groan of a person in distress reached his ears. He broke into a run. On the ground, the lump moved.

“What is it?” Caden demanded from behind him.

“I think the question is who.” Randall put in.

Zeke crouched before the crumpled human—of the male persuasion, thank God. He touched the man’s shoulder. Still warm.

A sneaking suspicion took root in his mind. Dark hair. Just about the right build. He rolled the man onto his back. Bullseye. “It’s Hastings,” he said over his shoulder.

Zeke lowered his head to Hastings’s ashen face, checking for breath. When he felt the hair on his cheek stir, he patted him, chest to midsection. He pulled his hands back on reflex when he touched warm, slick liquid pooling at the man’s low belly.

“Is he…” Caden swallowed hard.

“No. He’s alive.” Zeke glanced up at Caden. “Stabbed, is my best guess.”

Hastings moaned and his eyes fluttered open. “Thurgood?” he whispered. “What’re you doing here?”

Zeke resisted the urge to shake him. “Never mind why I’m here, just thank your stars I’m in time to save your sorry neck—if you tell me where Kitty is.”

Hastings grimaced and closed his eyes.

“Hastings,” Zeke barked. “Where is your sister? Tell me now, damn it, or I’ll let you bleed out.”

The door behind them creaked in protest as it opened wide enough for a dumb looking bit of muscle to peer out at them.

“What’s this?” the man asked in thick cockney. His gaze hitched on Hastings. “Mr Peters,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Someone’s killed Lord Hastings.”

Zeke noted the man didn’t sound overly broken up.

Someone from within the building replied, but Zeke couldn’t make out the words.

The man in the doorway leaned further out to glance up and down the alley. “No sir, the lady don’t appear to be present.”

Zeke was upright, door gripped in his hands and yanked open wide, before the man had time to draw another breath. “What lady? Peters!” Zeke snarled into the building.

“What’s this?” the brawny man yelped again. He looked ready to pounce, but a tall figure materialized behind him, placing a staying hand on his shoulder.

“I’m Peters. Who might you be, my lord?” Peters stood eye level with Zeke.

“Thurgood of Claybourne,” Zeke replied in a steely voice. “Is the lady of whom you speak this man’s sister?” He jerked a thumb toward Hastings, who groaned as if on cue.

Peters stepped one foot into the alley and flicked a glance over Hastings. “So she claimed. She signed her brother’s marker before they left, and was none too pleased about it. I didn’t see her resorting to violence, however.”

“She is not responsible for this.” Zeke articulated each word through gritted teeth. “Who else was with them? Clearly a third party was involved.”

“None that I saw.” Peters glanced over his shoulder at the goings on within the building.

The look of the infamous Mr Peters, combined with the sounds and smells coming from within—the rumble of male voices, a haze of cigar smoke and spirit fumes—told Zeke all he needed to know about this place.

A hell. Hastings had led his sister to a gaming hell.

If Kitty’s disaster-prone brother survived his wounds, Zeke would give him a thrashing he’d never forget.

Zeke flicked a last glance at Peters. Instinct told him the game master was a dead-end. He had no notion where Kitty had gone.

He turned to Caden. “Can you deal with this?”

Caden nodded once, crossed his arms over his chest, and eyed Peters. “Hastings isn’t dead. We found him in this condition not five minutes ago. You say he and his sister were here earlier?”

Zeke crouched beside Randall who had taken over tending Collin’s wounds. “Did you get anything out of him?”

Randall shook his head. “No, and we haven’t much time. Whoever did this didn’t stop at one thrust. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

Zeke smacked Hastings’ graying face to bring him ’round.

“Hastings, you worthless piece of dog excrement. Do something right for once in your life. Tell me where Kitty is. She needs your help.”

Hastings’ eyes opened and focused on Zeke’s face. “James took her.” He gasped a shallow breath. “Plans to marry her…today. Had papers. Stabbed me. I don’t understand.”

Zeke cursed. “You were never part of his plan, you idiot, except the part where he got rid of you permanently. Where is this so-called marriage to take place? Hurry, man,” Zeke demanded through bared teeth.

“Priory church. Hill top,” Hastings wheezed.

Randall put a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “Go.”

He met his friend’s eyes briefly in thanks, then ran all out for the alley exit.

***

Her head ached and she wanted to sleep, but something kept dragging her awake.

“I said wake up.” A sharp crack of a hand against her cheek punctuated the harshly spoken words.

Kitty’s eyes squinted open. Her head swam at the intrusion of light, or maybe it was the pain reverberating in her jaw. She moaned.

“There you are. You were about to miss your wedding.” Two Garricks smiled down at her.

She took a slow, cleansing breath and replayed his words. About to miss your wedding. Marry Garrick? She wouldn’t. Zeke . If only he were here. He would swoop in, carry her out of here, love her…

Her eyes drifted closed.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Garrick gave her a rough shake. “The priest is waiting. A pretty penny he cost me, to boot.”

“Priest?” Kitty peeled open her gritty eyes and glanced around. She was half laid out on a window bench in a small, wood paneled room. It seemed an office or waiting room of some sort. How had she gotten here?

She pushed herself onto her elbows. Images rushed her mind. “Collin,” she said in a panic. “Where is he?”

“Finally you’re asking the right question. Your brother’s in a safe place. But he won’t remain so if you don’t accompany me down the aisle this instant,” Garrick hissed.

Collin had badly mistreated her. He’d been more than willing to sacrifice her future for his own selfish gain. He was weak and undisciplined. But none of that altered the fact he was her brother, whom she loved fiercely.

How had they left him? She vaguely recalled Collin helping Garrick drag her to the alley, and then…nothing. “What have you done with him?”

“Nothing permanent. Yet. But defy me, and I promise you, he’ll pay with his life.”

She drew a shaky breath and sat up. Her mind was clearing, even as her head throbbed with a nauseating ache. “How do I know you have Collin? How do I know he’s not simply visiting another gaming hell?”

Garrick barked out a harsh laugh. “You have learned a thing or two, haven’t you? You’ll have to take my word for it. Oh, and there is this.” He held up his right hand. Flashed the gold ring he wore. Her grandfather’s pinkie ring—the one Collin earlier swore never to relinquish.

She chirped in alarm, covering her mouth with her hand.

Garrick smiled in satisfaction. “I see you comprehend the seriousness of the matter. Now on your feet.”