To her relief, he nuzzled against her, his small head settling on her shoulder, as though he understood every word.
CHAPTER 38
“There it is.” Arabella pointed. “Right in front of us.”
Julian peered out through the carriage window. The house looked imposing, half-swallowed by the storm. “Good Lord. It looks like an old castle.”
“I believe it was once,” Arabella said. “Or so Sebastian told me. Although at this point, I do not know what I can believe of anything he ever told me.”
“No,” Julian said grimly. “Unfortunately not.” He looked at her. “What shall we do?”
“First,” Arabella said, “we ought to stop the carriages here. He is sure to have someone watching for them. We will have to walk the rest of the way.”
Julian did not love this idea but knew well enough that it was likely the only sensible one. He rapped on the carriage door andstepped out. Gideon, drawing on his time in the militia, had already advised that they extinguish the carriage lamps some distance off, so the three carriages sat dark in the storm, lit only by occasional flashes of lightning. The weather here was, if anything, worse than it had been at Lynden House.
He knocked on the other two carriage doors, and his friends climbed out one by one.
“We walk from here,” he said. “Arabella says he is bound to have someone watching the approach.”
“Getting soaked through is among my very favorite activities,” Rhys said with a roll of his eyes.
“Really,” James said, “I had thought you preferred being snowed in.”
“If ever you tire of being a gentleman and a peer of the realm, I do believe there is a position open at court for a jester,” Rhys shot back.
Even now, amid everything, his friends found room for humor, and it gave Julian an odd measure of comfort.
“Right,” Nathaniel said. “Once we reach the house, we split up. There are likely several entrances. Arabella, do you recall?”
“Four that I know of. The front door, the garden door at the back, and the servants’ entrance.”
“Then we pair off,” Nathaniel said. “Each pair takes a door, and once inside, we search every room.”
“What if we come upon Devereau himself?” James asked.
“Hogtie him,” Gideon suggested.
“Subdue him,” Nathaniel said. “But whatever you do, do not knock him out so hard that we cannot question him afterward.”
“And if we come across servants?” James asked.
“My hope is he has not brought many here. It is not the sort of business a man wants witnesses to. If you do find any, lock them gently into a room, tell them their master has been up to no good, and that the constables will arrive shortly to deal with him. That should at least reassure them we are not common highwaymen.”
“Very well,” Nathaniel said. “Let us go.”
He and Julian walked at the head of the line, Arabella beside Julian, and the others following behind. Besides his friends, they had brought an assortment of valets and trusted men, twelve in total. They split up at the house, each pair moving quietly toward their assigned door.
Julian, Nathaniel, and Arabella stayed together and made for the garden door, where they had to break a small pane of glass to get through. Fortunately, a roll of thunder covered the sound nicely.
Inside, the darkness did little to help their progress.
“We check the chambers first,” Julian said.
“Second floor,” Arabella whispered, and the three of them climbed the stairs. Several boards cracked beneath them, and each time, Julian swore quietly under his breath.
At the top, they turned left and tried the first door. Julian prayed silently that they would find Clara and David behind it and not Sebastian Devereau. He wanted to find the man, badly, but his wife and child came first. The first room was empty, every piece of furniture shrouded in white. They moved on to the next, and the one after, until they found a locked door.
“Why would a door be locked?” Nathaniel said. “This must be it. This must be where they are.”
