They spread out, half inside, half outside, methodically making their way through the house, floor by floor. Outside they checked the gardens, the shore, the outbuildings.
Meeting back in the house, his friends all shook their heads.
She had to be here somewhere. She wouldn’t leave. Gunn’s heart beat so hard, he could feel it pounding against the walls of his chest.
“The storage rooms.”
“What?” Malcolm asked.
“Downstairs, the root cellar. The storage rooms. ’Tis the only place we havena checked. We ne’er go down there.” He spun on his heel, rushed to the door that would lead him down the narrow steps to the earthy atmosphere below. Pausing, he grabbed a lantern and lit the stairs, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
She wasn’t at the bottom lying in a crumpled heap.
He whispered a prayer of relief, but he noticed the disturbed dust. The marking of footprints on the steps. It had been a long time since anyone had been down here. They didn’t use these rooms anymore, so the staff stayed away.
Turning to the others, he held his finger up to his lips, hushing them.
He listened intently. And there it was. Whimpering.
Jocelyn!
How the hell had she gotten down here?
“Joss!” he called out. “We’re coming! Are ye all right?”
She didn’t answer, which made him fash even more. Mayhap she had fallen and knocked her head. She shouldn’t be on her feet, never mind going up and down stairs. Now wasn’t the time, but he would make sure she kenned better once he got her back upstairs.
Downstairs, he held up a lantern and followed the scuff marks to the closed door that led into the root cellar portion of the space.
Why would she close herself in there? Something wasn’t right. She wouldn’t do this on her own.
He turned. “Ladies, go upstairs,” he ordered, his voice low, lethal.
“We want to—” Clarissa started, but Malcolm, realizing the severity of the situation silenced her with a look.
“Go. We will be up shortly. With Jocelyn,” he added, when she refused to move.
With one last look trying to see over his shoulder, she straightened and nodded.
As the women disappeared upstairs, the men came together, speaking in hushed tones.
“What do ye think has happened?” Nicholas asked, looking toward the door.
“Joss wouldna have come down here out of curiosity. Something, orsomeone, chased her here.”
“Townsend?” Malcolm whispered.
“’Tis my guess. I’m going to kill him.”
His friends looked to each other, nodding. “Here we go again. We’ve got your back, brother.”
Hand on the knob, Gunn twisted and pushed, the uncoiled hinges squeaking loudly in the small space, echoing off the cold, stone walls. As soon as the door began to open, Joss screamed.
“Look out!” Jocelyn screamed.
A man rushed forward, knife in hand, catching Gunn in the shoulder. The slice burned, but he ignored it with a grunt, swinging out his arm and catching the man in the throat. He collapsed on the ground, trying to catch his breath.
But he wasn’t done. He kicked out his leg, catching Gunn in the back of the knee.
