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After two hours of searching, Titus had come to that conclusion. There had been a lot of people at the Ludus Caledonia last night when Esme had run off, so he could only imagine she either lost herself in the crowd or found someone who could offer her a ride. If she had walked out, then there was a chance of locating her still, but if she’d gotten into a carriage with someone, there was no telling where she’d gone.

Titus was trying very hard not to panic.

Cam, Brody, Galan, Christos, and even Aurelius Finn, the big Irishman that Titus had beaten in his bout last night, were helping him search. Clegg was aware of the issue, and he had given permission for Axel and Wendell and Milo to help in the search, as well. They were all looking for the woman that Titus placed a good deal of stock in, asking no questions, but simply offering their help because it meant so much to him.

But two hours later, Esme de Gracia hadn’t turned up.

The search area would have to expand.

There were training sessions to take place that morning, so Axel and Wendell went to work with those men while the rest of the doctores helped Titus. By sunrise, they were all on horseback, horses from Clegg’s collection of fine animals, and they set off to hunt for the lady in the surrounding area.

Before they split up, however, each man had a direction and a goal. Titus and Cam were heading directly into Edinburgh along the main road while Brody took the eastern road. Christos and Galan headed west, towards Dalkeith, while Milo and Aurelius would search the hills surrounding the Ludus Caledonia. There were a lot of trees a lady could lose herself in.

Unfortunately, Cam was delayed from departing because Isadora wanted to go with him. She felt responsible for Esme’s departure and very much wanted to help, but in her condition, stress and possibly long hours on a horse wouldn’t be good for her, so Titus took off while Cam tried to convince his wife to rest and wait. No one, not even Titus, could seem to convince Isadora that the situation wasn’t her fault.

The last Titus saw of Isadora, she was weeping in Cam’s arms.

Titus was riding a magnificent dappled stallion named Tempest, who had been a gift to Clegg from a Portuguese duke who had spent three solid months attending games at the Ludus Caledonia. Tempest was young and excitable, but massive and sturdy, endless in his energy. Titus took the horse down the road from the Ludus Caledonia, through the trees, and onto the main road that ran along the base of the hills.

His only plan at that point was to retrace Esme’s original path to the Ludus Caledonia from Edinburgh, ending at the apothecary shop where they’d first met. He was hoping that she had gone back to that shop because she was familiar with it, so that was his destination.

It was his one and only hope.

But first, he intended to check every church, tavern, and inn along the way, hoping she might have gone inside one of them for shelter from the rain. The weather had been warm and dry until last night when the summer storm rolled through, and it had turned the dusty roads into a soupy mess in places. Titus could see carriage tracks and footprints along the road, but there was no way of knowing if any of those footprints belonged to Esme.

The first church he came to was St. Eustace at the crossroads in Morningside. The church was dotted with worshipers at laud, or the morning prayers, and he walked through the church to see if any of the faithful were Esme. He didn’t see her and the priests, in the middle of the mass, refused to answer his questions.

Frustrated, he continued northward. The storm had mostly blown away at this point, although there were pockets of rain now and again. A short time later, he could see another church, small and nearly hidden in some trees. He pulled the horse to a halt just outside the door, leaving the beast to chew on the wet, green grass as he made his way inside.

It was dark and smelled of rot. The floor leaned and the pillars that held up the roof looked as if they were barely strong enough. There were a few people up near the altar, and he made his way up there to speak with them, but they seemed to be fearful of his presence. He managed to corner a villein, a man who denied seeing anyone who looked like Esme. The priests tried to chase Titus away until he told them that he was looking for a woman.

Then, they pointed to the door. He thought they were pointing at the door, demanding he leave, until he saw what they were indicating.

A figure slumped into a corner.

Titus’ heart leapt into his throat as he rushed over to see that it was, in fact, Esme. She was damp and dirty, slumped against the stone wall and sleeping like the dead. As he watched, she coughed and sputtered, but she didn’t wake up.

Titus had never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life. In fact, he could feel the unfamiliar tug of tears, something completely foreign to him but indicative of the emotion he felt.

For her.

Kneeling down, he reached out and gently shook her.

“Esme?” he whispered. “Esme, wake up.”

She grunted and her eyes lolled open, but she shut them again. As she was drifting back off to sleep, he shook her once more and her eyes rolled open again, but she was staring at the wall. Titus’ hand was on her knee and he patted it, gently.

“Esme? Look at me, sweetheart.”

She blinked. Then, slowly, her eyes moved in his direction until she was focused on him. For a moment, she simply stared at him.

“Titus?” she asked weakly.

He smiled. “Aye. ’Tis me.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Am I dreaming?”

“Nay. ’Tis me.”