“Why don’t you just admit you have feelings for her?” Neil asked once they were hiking again.
“Did you do more than kiss her?” Jasper asked.
Ewan glared at him. “I will hit you hard enough to make your ears ring for a week.”
“I’d take that as an affirmative,” Neil said, then jumped out of Ewan’s reach when he grasped at him.
“Exactly how serious is this?” Jasper asked. “Do you love her? Want to shackle yourself to her?”
Love. She’d said she loved him, but Ewan didn’t know what that meant, what that felt like. Was the clawing sensation tearing at his gut love? Was that how it felt?
“I can’t marry her. She’s rich and the daughter of a duke.”
“You’re the son of an earl,” Neil pointed out. “The legitimate son.” An important distinction to Neil, who had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.
“The third son,” Ewan said. “No property. No money. Nothing to offer.”
“What a pile of horseshit,” Jasper said. “You’re a decorated war hero. You’re invited everywhere—or would be if you ever moved out of Langley’s hell. You’re from an old and honorable family, and you don’t need blunt because she has piles of it. Ridlington should be glad to have you.”
“The real question,” Neil said, “is do you want Ridlington? Do you want his daughter?”
Ewan was saved from replying when Jasper raised a hand. It was a signal Ewan and Neil knew meant stop. The two men halted as Japer crouched and studied the ground. This time Ewan didn’t have to wonder what had caught Neil’s eye. He saw the imprint of the boot clearly in the damp mud.
Jasper wiggled his fingers, indicating the men could move forward again, but Ewan knew better than to make any noise. Not that he had anything to say. Silence suited him very well, and it would keep Neil from baiting him.
They walked a few more yards and Jasper signaled again. Ewan halted and glanced at Neil. Neil’s gaze moved back and forth, searching for possible threats. The gesture had been second nature during the war, but Ewan hardly thought it necessary back at home.
“Protector,” Jasper whispered and motioned to Ewan.
Moving as quietly as he could, Ewan crossed to stand beside Jasper. He pointed to the ground, not as muddy here, but soft from recent rains.
“Most of the footprints were washed away in the rain last night. This imprint is a bit deeper.” He pointed to an indention in the mud that Ewan hadn’t seen at first. It was smaller than the other and less well defined. “That’s why it lasted. The other was a beater case—a boot, but this…I don’t think so.”
Ewan nodded his agreement. This was no boot print.
“It’s smaller. Perhaps from a lady’s slipper.”
Ewan’s gaze locked on Jasper’s face, now difficult to see in the shadows from the fading light. Another quarter hour and it would be futile to search for footprints until the morning.
The deadline was midnight. Morning would be too late.
“It’s hers,” Ewan said.
Jasper looked up, then back at the print. “I can’t know that, but I do know it was made within the last few days. Otherwise it would have washed away by now.”
“Lead the way.”
Jasper flicked his fingers at Neil, and he followed, keeping an eye on the rear. Ewan didn’t know how Jasper could see to track, but he walked with confidence for another half mile at least.
“You sure you know where we’re headed?” Neil asked, his voice a low rumble. “I don’t relish spending the night walking in circles.”
“When have I ever led you in circles?” Jasper demanded.
Neil raised his brows. “There was that time in—”
“I knew you would mention Lisbon,” Jasper retorted. “A cove makes one mistake.” Suddenly, he raised a hand, and just as Ewan sidestepped to avoid smacking into his back, Jasper gestured down. Ewan lowered to his haunches, followed by Neil. Jasper bent double and crept forward. He moved through a dense patch of foliage, and Neil looked at Ewan.
“This had better not be a diversion tactic so we don’t notice he’s leading us in circles,” Neil said.
Ewan watched the spot where Jasper had disappeared. A moment later it rustled, and the bounty hunter emerged. He gestured for Ewan and Neil to move back a few feet with him. Under a large tree, he waved his fingers, gesturing for them to stand close. “There’s a cottage through those bushes. This looks to have been a wild garden at some point, and now it’s just overgrown. It was probably a gardener’s cottage or workhouse, but it looks abandoned.”
“Empty?” Neil asked.
“Looks to be,” Jasper answered. “Except I saw a rogue standing guard on what is probably the path to Wight House. He had a rifle.”
“Why would an armed man guard an empty cottage?” Neil asked.
“I wondered that myself.”
Both men looked at Ewan.
“Shall we go in and find out what he’s guarding?” Neil asked.
“You think she’s in there?” Ewan asked.
Jasper shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
“Then we take it.” Ewan looked at Neil. “What’s the plan?”
*
Inside the dark closet, Lorrie had no idea how much time had passed. She knew night approached, but she intended to wait until it settled in. Even when she’d finally loosened the last plank enough to squeeze her body through, she hadn’t done so. She didn’t want to go until she had the cover of darkness to shield her.
She’d whispered this plan to Welly, who had yawned without much interest. Lorrie had taken the opportunity to close her eyes and sleep. She’d slept perhaps thirty minutes when she sat, startling the puppy awake.
“Welly!” she whispered. “What if waiting is a mistake?”
Welly cocked his brown and white face and his soft brown ears lifted.
“We can’t wait,” she told the dog. “I’m assuming they intend to keep me here several more days, but why would they do that? The longer they have me, the more chance something goes wrong. If this is a ransom attempt”—and she was more and more certain that’s exactly what the abduction had been—“we might be out of time.”
Which meant she would have to make her escape now before true dark set in, because if her abductors intended to move her, that’s when they would do so.
Lorrie pushed one of the loose planks forward and peered out.
“Gah!” she hissed. “It’s only dusk.” Her white nightclothes would shine like snow under moonlight in the waning light. If she managed to make it to the woods, she’d cover herself with leaves and mud to dull the white.
Lorrie eased the plank back into place and took a deep breath. Ten minutes. She’d wait ten more minutes. That should lengthen the shadows and turn the pewter-gray light into more of a charcoal.
Her hands shook as she began to count slowly and evenly to sixty. She’d do this ten times, and then she would gather Welly in her arms and run.
*
“That’s it,” Neil said, glancing at Jasper, then Ewan. “Any questions?”
“What the hell kind of plan is that?” Jasper asked.
Neil frowned at him. “If we were at war right now, I’d have you sent to the stocks for that.”