Page 40 of A Marriage of Necessity

Chapter Eleven

Kennedy guided his horse up the drive to Chesterfield, with John riding alongside. They continued around the east side of the house to the rear, and Kennedy brought the animal to a halt at sight of the open servants’ entrance. He leapt from the saddle and raced inside. He knew this part of the house like the back of his hand. When his mother had been alive, they often entertained guests here. After her death, Kennedy spent many a day in the deserted rooms.

Kennedy spotted the tapers and tinderbox on the pantry shelf, and cursed.

A shadow filled the doorway. “Someone is using this entrance,” John said.

Kennedy’s gut clenched. Rose is here.

He forced back the compulsion to race up the darkened stairs. He was no longer fifteen. The narrow staircase was pitch black at night and he was sure to break his fool neck.

He lit a candle, and said to John, “Come on,” then hurried from the pantry into the kitchen and took the stairs to the right.

They reached the fourth floor. Light spilled from an open door halfway down the hallway. He blew out the candle, tossed it aside, and raced toward the open door. He and John burst inside the room to find a man sitting on the mattress beside a woman.

“Rose,” Kennedy growled, and took two steps toward the man before strong fingers seized his arm and yanked him back.

“That is not Rose,” John said.

For an instant, Kennedy didn’t understand, then he whipped his head around and looked at the couple. The man stood, staring at them. The woman was not Rose.

Not Rose. Where was his sister?

Kennedy yanked free of John and said to the man, “Where is my sister?”

He shook his head. “I dinnae know. I returned to find Rebecca unconscious in the hallway.”

Kennedy rounded the bed, then took the woman by the shoulders. Her head lolled to the side. He shook her.

“Leave her be!” the man shouted.

Kennedy yanked his gaze onto the man and he backed up two steps. Kennedy looked back at the woman and she shook her again.

John appeared at his side. “Here, maybe this will help.” He tossed water from a pitcher onto the woman’s face.

She sputtered and shook her head. Her eyes snapped open. Her gaze met Kennedy’s and her eyes widened.

“Where is my sister?” he demanded.

She looked at the man.

Kennedy gave her a hard shake. “Where is Lady Rose?”

“A woman took her.”

Panic muddled his thoughts. “A woman? What woman? Where did she take her?”

“She-she said she was Lady Buchanan.”

“Lady Buchanan?” he repeated. “Jacqueline?”

“N-nae,” the woman stuttered. “Viscountess Buchanan, Lady Rose’s sister-in-law.”

“Anne?” Had he heard correctly? “My wife was here?”

The woman’s eyes widened. “You are Viscount Buchanan?” She shrank away from him.

He released her and straightened. “You are certain it was Viscountess Buchanan who was here?”