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Adam lowered Oliver to the ground, helping to hold his shoulders up as Emily handed him the bucket. Oliver dipped his hand into the water and scooped it into his mouth. He repeated the action twice more.

“Mercy, Oliver, what have you done?” Mrs. Foster dropped to her knees beside the groom.

“Took an ’ard knock to the ’ead, Mrs. Foster.”

“Will you take over here, Mrs. Foster?” Adam asked.

“Of course, my lord.” The housekeeper took his place behind Oliver.

Adam rose to his feet, his eyes taking in the scene before him. His orchard—the very thing on which he had pinned his hopes for the future—was on fire. His few remaining retainers were heroically trying, but valiantly failing, to put out the flames, and his groom had been attacked and left for dead. And yet, all he could think of was Phoebe. He had to find her. But where to start? Had she been cast aside in the orchard like Oliver? Or had Payne taken her with him? Phoebe’s golden hair would have identified her even if the light were dim, and there could be no doubt that once he saw her, Payne would recognize her. Quite apart from the fact that Phoebe was unforgettable, they had eaten dinner together only a day ago.

He ran his fingers through his hair. One of the reasons Payne had avoided capture all these years was that his targets and scams were wholly unpredictable. But surely, after five years of talking to people with firsthand knowledge of the fiend, Adam had gleaned something he could use to help him find Phoebe now. He turned, blocking out the chaos around him, and focused on the land. Payne was still here somewhere—he could feel it. And now that his dastardly deed was done, he would be anxious to leave. So how would he go?

The only way he could have reached Dunsbourne Manor so quickly was to have come by horse. Where had he left his mount? Far enough away that the animal would not be frightened by the fire but close enough for a speedy getaway. But Payne was not one to hide or act furtively. His characteristic mode of operation was audacity. He entered a new scheme boldly, in full sight of everyone. Had Freddie entered Dunsbourne land via the front drive? Adam frowned, and then he pivoted to look behind him. Or had the villain entered just like any other local, by following the public footpath?

Emily appeared at his elbow. “Adam, we must find Phoebe.”

A sense of urgency throbbed between them. He studied the gentle hillside that separated Dunsbourne Manor from Charwell Park. It was nothing more than a faint, dark outline on a gray canvas, but he knew every rock and tree and shrub along the path. Woodland covered most of the hill. Following the footpath in the opposite direction, however, took a person through pastures. The woodland would be a far better place to keep a horse out of sight.

“Look up there, Emily. Do you see anything out of the ordinary on the hill? Anything at all?”

His sister peered into the darkness. “No.”

Adam bit his lip. He had a critical decision to make, and Phoebe’s life could well depend upon his making the right choice. Should he search the orchard or the hill?

“Wait!” Emily’s said. “There’s a speck of light. See it? Halfway up.”

Halfway up. That was where the woodland began. He strained to see through the darkness, and suddenly, like the twinkling of a distant star, he spotted it. The next second, it was gone.

“Stay here, Emily,” he said. “Mr. Hadford is sending reinforcements. Set them to work on putting out the fire as soon as they arrive.”

“But where are you going?”

“To bring Phoebe back,” he said, and then he took off running.

Chapter 29

Phoebe had done everything in her power to slow Freddie’s progress. It had not been hard. Climbing the hill in the dark was infinitely more treacherous than running down it in daylight. Breathing the smoky air was challenge enough; doing so through a gag was almost impossible. The combination of those things had left her so light-headed, she had been forced to stop multiple times or risk succumbing to unconsciousness completely. Unfortunately, Payne was rapidly losing patience with her, and she had yet to ascertain what form his retaliation would take.

“Get up!” The glowing branch waved wildly in his hand as he yanked her arm viciously with his other. “No amount of playing the victim will help, Miss Hadford. I have yet to feel compassion toward anyone foolish enough to get in my way.”

If she could have answered, she would have told him she was quite sure he had yet to feel compassion for anyone at all. As it was, she expended her energy on trying to breathe the toxic air with fabric in her mouth.

Without the use of her hands and arms for balance, her feet slid out from under her on the carpet of dead leaves. Payne pulled her upright. Her gown snagged the bramble bushes. She heard the fabric tear and wondered vaguely if it would be repairable. If she made it out of this experience alive, she might never want to see the dress with its associated terrifying memories again.

Up ahead, a horse nickered. Phoebe turned to look back at the orchard. At least ten trees were now ablaze, and although the haze over the orchard had thickened, she could just make out the flickering shadows of people moving between the river and the fires. A lump formed in her dry throat. All Adam’s work, all his dreams for the Dunsbourne estate were quite literally going up in flames.

Anger that this awful man would so callously seek to destroy the family a second time boiled in her veins, and she tore her arm free of her captor’s grip.

“I will not go with you,” she cried. It came out as a string of garbled sounds. “You are despicable, and I will do nothing that facilitates your escape.”

With a furious growl, he lunged at her, but she twisted out of his reach and ran. Payne’s glowing branch had given off minimal light—but it had been something. Without it, Phoebe was covering the terrain practically blind. She collided with trees and knocked her shins on boulders. Branches clawed at her hair, and shrubs scratched her arms. But she kept running.

The pounding of feet and the crack of branches behind her told Phoebe that Payne was in pursuit. The path bent, and Phoebe’s feet slipped. With no way to break her fall, she landed on her side, a bramble branch gouging her cheek as she slid to a stop in the bush. Tears pricked her eyes, and she struggled to her feet. But she was too late. Breathing heavily, Payne pounced on her.

“You will pay for that, you little witch.” He hauled her upright.

Phoebe choked on her silent sobs. She had tried, but it had not been good enough. She wished Adam knew that she had attempted to foil Payne, that she had tried to escape and get word of the felon’s whereabouts to someone else. It did not signify that no one else knew of her efforts. Adam was the only one who mattered.