“How do we get in with it locked?” Arabella asked.
Nathaniel stepped back as if to kick it.
“That will make noise,” Julian said. “I do not think even the loudest crack of thunder will cover that the way it covered the glass downstairs.”
“The housekeeper’s keys,” Arabella whispered. “She would have a whole chain of them. If we go down and find her, we could borrow them.”
Julian felt sweat break out despite the cold. That sounded far more time-consuming than they had any time to spare for, but it might also be the only option left to them. “Would the housekeeper not keep them on her person?”
“If there is a housekeeper at all. When I was here, there was not one in residence, Sebastian told me the house was usually kept shut up entirely. I do not even think the staff who showed me round live here permanently. We could go down and at least look. He showed me the servants’ quarters once, and I believe I can remember roughly where her room would be.”
Julian shook his head, then leaned his forehead against the door. “Clara,” he called softly. “Clara, are you there?”
“Do not be so loud,” Nathaniel hissed.
“She must know we are here.” He pressed closer to the door. “Clara, do not lose heart. We are coming for you, I promise you that. I love you, no matter what you heard, no matter what you read into it. I love you. I will not leave this house without you.”
Arabella, beside him, was smiling faintly despite everything.
“What is it?” he said.
“Nothing. Only that it is good to see you truly in love again.”
“I have never truly been in love before, and you know that perfectly well.”
“I suppose I do.” She glanced between the two men. “I think only Julian and I should go down for the keys, Nathaniel. You should stay here in case he returns and tries to move her.”
Nathaniel wrapped his hand around the dagger at his belt. “My dagger and I shall keep watch, then.”
Arabella and Julian set off back down the stairs. On the way, they passed Lucian and Rhys coming up. He gave a quick account of what they had found and went up again to keep searching the remaining rooms in case the locked door was not the right one after all.
The house was quiet save for the occasional dull thud of a door opening and closing somewhere, whether from his own men or someone else entirely, he could not say.
Below stairs, in the servants’ quarters, Julian noticed at once the absence of any familiar household smell—no beeswax, no smoke from a kitchen fire. What he smelled instead was dust.
“Nobody has been here in some time,” he said, sniffing the air.
“You have always been something of a bloodhound,” Arabella said.
“I am glad to hear you have not entirely lost your sense of humor, even now.”
“Do you not remember what my father and yours always used to say? When there is nothing left in the world, when it looks as though you have reached the end of the road and there is nowhere further to turn, the only thing left that can give you any comfort at all is a sense of humor.”
They located the housekeeper’s office and found a chatelaine of keys hanging from a nail by the door. They had just taken it down and turned to go back upstairs when someone seized Julian roughly from behind.
“There he is, the scoundrel,” a voice said.
“Let him go,” James’ voice came at once, and Julian was shoved forward and released. He spun around.
“Gideon. Why in God’s name did you do that?”
“I thought you were Sebastian.” Gideon looked genuinely sheepish. “What are you doing down here?”
“We found a locked chamber upstairs that may hold Clara, but we needed a key. Have you found anything?”
Gideon shook his head. “We spent a mortifying amount of time fighting the servants’ door. We have only just begun searching the ground floor.”
“Very well,” Julian said. “We are going back up. The two of you finish here. We have still seen nothing of Devereau, nor any servants.”
