Page 51 of A Stolen Heart

“What!” Thorpe rushed to the window and peered out, as if he could somehow still see the scene. “Where did this ladder come from?”

“I have no idea.”

“It’s the one from the back, miss,” one of the maids explained helpfully. “The footmen use it for washing the outside of the windows.”

“It makes no sense!” Thorpe exclaimed. “Why would anyone abduct Alexandra?”

“Nothing has made sense the whole time we’ve been in this infernal country,” Aunt Hortense snapped. “I wish to God we had never come. First that man attacked Alexandra, then there was the rat, and now this….”

“Whose room is this?”

“Rhea’s.” Aunt Hortense nodded toward the woman in the large bed. “Alexandra’s mother. He obviously tried to kill her. Look at her throat.”

Thorpe stepped to the side of the bed and gazed down at Rhea’s abused throat. “Has she awakened?”

“No, my lord,” the maid replied softly, ducking her head in awe at speaking to a lord.

“Why did he take Alexandra?” Thorpe turned to Aunt Hortense.

“I don’t know. This is the only room he entered. He must have been after Rhea. He struck Nancy, apparently, but he did not try to choke her. I can only assume that Alexandra must have heard the struggle and come running in here to help her mother. I heard her scream, and by the time I got here, he was dragging her out the window.”

Thorpe clamped down on the fear swelling in his chest and trying to push out his throat. “Well, one thing’s for certain, he won’t find her an easy captive. Perhaps that will at least make it easier to track his movements. Who would want to harm Alexandra’s mother?”

“No one! It makes no sense. She doesn’t know anyone in London any more than I do. Less—she rarely leaves the house.”

Sebastian ran his hand over his face, trying to force his brain to work. “It could be that he was after Alexandra all along, but came in the wrong window. How would he know which one was hers? Mrs. Ward and the maid woke up and struggled with him, and he subdued them. It could have been that he did not mean to kill Mrs. Ward, only to render her unconscious, as in fact he did. Then either Alexandra came into the room by luck, having heard the struggle, or he found her room and seized her, and came back through here and down his ladder.”

“But why? What could he want with her?”

Thorpe clamped his lips together. It was obvious to him what a criminal would be likely to do with a beautiful woman like Alexandra, but he could scarcely worry the girl’s aunt with such news.

However, Aunt Hortense read the truth in his eyes and recoiled a step. “No…no.”

“I’ll find her,” Thorpe promised grimly, his hands knotting into fists. “I’ll send my men out to ask questions immediately. If anyone can find word of her, it’ll be Murdock.”

“But surely he wouldn’t do all this just to—despoil Alexandra. He went to a great deal of trouble. It seems to me that there must be something more behind it.”

“Yes. I imagine there is.” He paused, studying her. “What other schemes has your niece been involved in?”

“Schemes?” Aunt Hortense looked at him blankly. “What are you talking about?” Then her face cleared. “Oh—I had forgotten. Alexandra told me you had decided she was a swindler.”

“The most likely reason for her abduction would be a grudge that some former cohort has against her—or even perhaps the victim of one of her swindles.” He faltered in the face of Aunt Hortense’s basilisk glare.

“If that is what you’re going to be looking for, it was obviously no use calling you. You won’t find any connection like that with Alexandra because there is none. You will waste your time—and, unfortunately, Alexandra’s.” She turned and began pacing. “There must be someone else who can help me.”

“Miss Ward,” Thorpe said in his most freezingly aristocratic voice, “I will help you far more than anyone else. However, it would make it much easier if you did not persist in keeping secrets from me. I am aware that you must to some extent be involved in Alexandra’s activities and so you would not want to admit anything. But in this instance, I think that Alexandra’s safety outweighs any other considerations.”

“Of course it does. But I can’t tell you about any victims or cohorts because there haven’t been any. Alexandra has never been involved in any sort of trouble—at least, not until she came here and met you lot. From the moment you walked in our door, there has been nothing but trouble.” She crossed her arms and glowered at him.

Thorpe sighed. “Obviously I am getting nothing accomplished here.” He turned toward the door, saying, “I will let you know as soon as I find out anything.”

He strode out of the room and out of the house. By the time he reached the street, he was moving almost at a run. He could not remember ever having felt quite so helpless or frightened. Murdock would have more success than most people in finding out if a young lady had been abducted. Unfortunately, the scope of the investigation was so large and vague that it seemed almost impossible. London was teeming with criminals—how could they find one among so many? Nor did he imagine that there would be many witnesses to a kidnapping in the middle of the night. Eventually, he hoped, they would ferret out where she was. But how long would it take? And what would happen to Alexandra in the meantime?

ALEXANDRA WAS AWARE OF A tremendous ache in her head. She had no thoughts at first, only a throbbing awareness of pain that ran up one side of her face and exploded in her brain. There were voices, too, and her first conscious thought was that she wished they would go away, for they only added to the pain in her head.

“Very, very nice, Peggoddy,” a woman said in a flat, nasal voice. “I must say your taste has improved. How did you find her?”

A deep rumble answered her, but Alexandra could understand only a word or two of the thickly accented male tongue. “Don’t know. Seemed…waste, like.”