Page 57 of The Thorn and the Rose

“Now, if you please,” Thorn said curtly.

Childe hesitated, eyeing Thorn, his expression wary.

“Don’t kill him,” Ogilvy muttered as he went out. “I’ll be damned if I come back here to visit you.”

Thorn snorted, waiting until the man had walked out of the room before he moved. Childe struggled, cursing and doing his best to fight back using every dirty trick in the book but Thorn held him fast, his arm so tight around the devil’s throat his head was bent at an alarming angle.

“Now,” Thorn said quietly. “You are going to tell me where Marie is, and I won’t break your neck if you do.” He loosened his grip just a fraction so the man could speak.

“Go to hell!”

Thorn increased the pressure, so hard the man turned red, his hands scrabbling at Thorn’s arm. He released the pressure again. “Where is she?”

“I’ll die before I tell you,” Childe choked out, and there was a note to his voice that made Thorn believe he meant it. He was so eaten up with envy and malice he’d do anything rather than give in.

“What do you want, Childe?” Thorn demanded in frustration. “You could make your stay here a deal more pleasant, with money at your disposal. All you need to do is tell me where she is.”

Childe laughed, and the sound sent chills running down Thorn’s back. “Don’t you worry, I left her in the care of a good friend. He’ll make certain you’ll never find her,” he crowed. “Never, never, never.”

Thorn had no very clear memory of what happened next but a moment later he was outside the cell, held in an iron grip between Ogilvy and the guard.

“I think you’d best be off, my lord,” the guard said, his tone brooking no argument. “The guv don’t take kindly to having his prisoners murdered on the premises.”

“He’s still breathing,” Ogilvy said irritably. “He’s only a little disarranged. It’s far less than he deserved, I assure you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” the guard replied. “All the same gents, be off with you.”

4th August 1848, Dern Palace, Sevenoaks, Kent.

Thorn looked up as his father pressed a glass of brandy into his hands before sitting down again. His mother sat close beside him, a sympathetic hand on his back.

“We’ll find her. I promise we will,” she said fiercely.

Thorn smiled at her and nodded. “I know we will. I… I just wish I had something to go on. She could be anywhere. I don’t even know if she’s in the country. She might be abroad for all I know.”

His father shook his head, sipping thoughtfully at his own drink. “From what you tell me, he did not have the funds to take her abroad, and if he had, why come back and risk capture? No, I think from what you and your brother have told me of him, he is a man that lacks imagination. In which case, we must try to think as he would think.”

“I don’t think I want to,” Matilda said with a grimace.

“It is not a pleasant exercise,” Montagu agreed. “But let us suppose that Childe knew he was likely to return to gaol at some point. That would leave his sister free to make her escape and return to you, an idea he could not stomach. He intends to punish both of you by keeping you apart and so he has taken steps to ensure you never see her again.”

“Lucian!” his wife said in alarm, her hand flying to her throat as Thorn’s heart dropped to his stomach, nausea roiling through him.

“Calm yourself, my love,” Montagu said gently. “I do not mean to say she is dead. A man like that does not kill, he takes pleasure from controlling and subjugating those he has power over. To kill them would spoil the game. No, she is alive, but I very much fear she is a prisoner herself. Perhaps in the hands of this mysterious friend he alluded to.”

Thorn surged to his feet, his throat tight. “I ought to have tried harder,” he said, hardly able to force the words out. “I ought to have known she would not run again. I ought—”

“Thorn, darling, stop it,” his mother urged, running to him and taking his arm. “You had no reason to trust her after everything she had done. No one else did, after all. She lied to you when she might have put her trust in you, and you were wary. We all were. I begged you to leave her alone and not to get involved. We are all culpable, Thomas. No one can blame you for heeding our advice, for being suspicious of her motives. Catherine told me you’ve been down to Magpie Hall countless times and done all you could to find some trace of her. What more could you have done?”

“More!” Thorn said savagely. “I could have—”

“That will be enough,” his father said quietly, silencing them both. “Your mother is correct, and self-recrimination helps no one. The fact is, we now know the truth. We know she is likely being held somewhere against her will. The difficulty is in discovering where and in what manner. But we will find her, son. That much, I promise you.”

Thorn swallowed, seeing the determination in his father’s eyes. Between them, they would find Marie. No matter how long it took.

Chapter 19

Dearest Rose,