Alec said with a slight smile, “Lady Halstead was never one to mince words.”
Kendra stared at the map of London spread before her, and shook her head. “He has to have a hidey-hole.”
“A hidey-hole?”
“A place that he’s taking the girls. Somewhere private. Somewhere away from the servants’ watching eyes.”
“There are a few abandoned cottages in the area,” Aldridge said. “Derelict buildings and barns. We even have old monastery ruins in these parts.”
“And caves,” Rebecca added. “This entire vicinity is riddled with caverns. When I was a little girl, I often went about exploring them, searching for fossils. It was quite a passion of mine. Remember, Duke? There were rumors that some caves were even used as priest holes for local Catholic landowners when Queen Elizabeth attempted to obliterate all ties to the papacy.”
Alec scowled. “Bloody hell. If the fiend is hiding in one of the caves, finding him will be like searching for a needle in a bottle of hay. Duke’s property alone is more than fifteen thousand acres. A search would take weeks, perhaps months.”
“Well, there’s a happy thought,” Kendra muttered.
There was a small knock at the door, and Harding came into the room. Aldridge lifted his brows slightly, having expected the footmen to light the wall sconces.
The butler hesitated, a dark uneasiness shifting beneath the man’s normally impassive face. “I apologize for disturbing you, sir. Mrs. Danbury asked me to speak to you . . . ah, there’s been a bit of a worry below stairs, you see.”
“If this is about Monsieur Anton—”
“No, sir. It is about . . . well, a maid seems to have gone missing, sir.”
Kendra swung around to look at the butler. “What? What do you mean? Gone missing?”
Harding glanced at her, and then back at the Duke. “A tweeny. Rose. Cook said . . .” He gave a helpless shrug. “We can’t find her, sir.”
Cold dread gripped Kendra. “Rose?” she echoed.
“Yes, miss.”
She barely heard him. Her heart began to pound as she spun to face the slate board. Her gaze became transfixed on the victimology column. The words seemed to dance in front of her eyes, taunting her. Pretty. Petite. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Young . . .
Oh, dear God . . . Rose.
48
Kendra felt sick—ice cold and sick.
“No,” she whispered, and her knees began to buckle. Her vision wavered. There was a flurry of movement, then arms went around her. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the sofa and Alec was pressing a glass of brandy into her hand.
“Drink it,” he ordered tersely.
“No . . .” She tried to shove it away, but couldn’t seem to catch her breath. The air had evaporated from her lungs. She was getting dizzy. Leaning forward, she put her head between her knees and concentrated on breathing. In. Out.
Rose.
“Doctor, can you do something?” Rebecca cried, and rushed to sit next to Kendra, putting her arms around her. She frowned when she felt the American trembling. “She’s going to be ill! Does anyone have any smelling salts?”
Kendra straightened, pushed aside the helpless terror gripping her. “No, I’m fine.”
“You are not fine—”
“I’m fine,” she snapped at Rebecca. “It’s Rose who needs help now. When was she last seen?”
The butler spread his hands, looking as helpless as she felt. “Sometime this morning, I believe. We were busy preparing for the nuncheon in the garden.”
Rebecca shook her head. “But she could not have been taken by the madman. She is not a prostitute. She is a tweeny. She does not fit your pattern, Miss Donovan.”
“She fits in every way except one.” A knot was forming in the pit of Kendra’s stomach. “We know that he’s escalating. We know that he wants to engage us. The only reason the unsub chose prostitutes was because they were expendable to society.”
“A servant in my household is not expendable.” There was a note of raw fury that Kendra had never heard before in Aldridge’s voice. His eyes were no longer gentle, but a burning blue. “This madman, whoever he is, must realize that I shall use all my resources to hunt him down.”
Kendra crossed her arms in front of her, trying not to shiver. But she was cold. So cold. “He is aware of your power and influence, Your Grace. He already believes that you’re using all your resources to find him—and yet, haven’t found him. Don’t you see? He believes he’s smarter than you. He believes he’s smarter than all of us!”
And maybe he is . . .
She rubbed her palms against her face. She needed to think. But the horror was welling up inside her, choking her.
“We don’t know if the madman has the girl,” Alec said.
Yes, I do, Kendra thought. I know. “It makes sense,” she whispered. “He’s taunting us. He’s showing us that he can come here and snatch one of our own.”
“We must organize a search,” Alec said.
“But where?” asked Rebecca.
“Everywhere!” Kendra said. “Goddamn it! He’s taking them somewhere!”