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“Who, Mrs. Johns? Who took him?” Roman asked. Shelene glanced at him, seeing the Lion of England emerge in a most terrifying way. Steely eyes, stern jaw and an iron will. He didn’t seem to notice that anyone was with him, but his mind was already formulating a plan.
“Father Etienne! And he took Durra, too. Durra said she would take care of Antonio. She promised.”
“Did he say what he wanted, Mrs. Johns? What did he say?”
“He said don’t follow. He said don’t interfere and Antonio won’t be hurt.”
“Roman?” Shelene pled, grabbing his arm.
“Brahim, check with everyone and find out if they saw anything. Were they on horses, which direction they went? You! Saddle all the horses in the upper paddock. Send a man up to the hill and tell them every abled bodied man is to be here in thirty minutes and carrying ammunition.” Roman asked no more questions but scooped up Mrs. Johns and marched toward the house. Shelene watched as everyone scurried away to do Roman’s bidding. She ran behind him feeling useless, angry and frightened. Her heart ached in a new and terrible way.God protect my son!
Roman carried Mrs. Johns to Antonio’s room, where there was a trundle for his nannies when they needed to rest. Shelene braced herself at the doorway, watching things unfold, knowing she was powerless to save her own son. Sakina and another of her granddaughters came into the room. Immediately, Shelene was relieved to see Mrs. Johns was coherent and sitting up, assisting in her own doctoring.
Roman left then, walking right by her.
“Roman! Wait!”
“There isn’t time, Shelene. I have to go. I will get my son back.”
All her fears returned but magnified by the loss of her son. Roman leaving without her. Roman off on an unknown mission, with unknown dangers and unknown duration. Just like he always did.
She reached for his arm. “He’s my son, too!”
“Not now, Shelene. Every minute counts. Find your father and let him know what’s happened.”
“Find my father?” She hurried in front of him and pressed her hands to his chest. “How dare you come back into my life then pretend I don’t exist. You barely know our son. You barely know me! You are the reason this has happened, and you think you are the answer to solving this crisis? A mother’s plea is what will save my son, not your delusional bravado.”
“What do you want from me? Antonio is in grave danger. The valley is in grave danger. I need to put a stop to it before anyone else is hurt.”
He tried to step around her, but she shoved hard against him. “I can ride as well as any man on the estate. I can shoot. Take me with you.”
“My God, Shelene. Do you think I will be able to live with myself if something happens to you as well?”
She shoved again to keep his attention. He blew out an exasperated breath, staring down at her. Fierceness welled her, like she had never experienced. She would not be told no. “Do you still have your father’s Boutet pistols?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Have you used them lately?”
“Every month.”
He clenched his jaw. “Be outside in twenty minutes or I leave without you.”
A hard knot formed in her chest. She nodded then ran down the balcony to her room, ripping off her skirts, pantaloons and her shirt, leaving her corset. She didn’t hesitate. She found the black trousers she’d had made for riding and farm work that fit tight like a glove. She had a gray linen shirt that should be pressed but who would notice a few wrinkles looking at her over the length of a flintlock. She stepped into her leather outdoor boots that protected to below her knees.
The French Boutet pistols were secure in the lower drawer of her wardrobe. Father had remained mum about how he’d obtained the gift, but she believed it had to do with having mercy upon a French captain and his ship. Once upon a time.
She pulled out the mahogany box. The powder horn went around her neck and shoulder. The lead shot bag, an extra ram, some cloth patches, and the pistols went into a leather pouch she slung over her shoulder. She could load when they stopped for a rest. Clarity was a strange thing—it had never been clearer why Roman said the things he did. Shelene understood now that shecouldkill someone when her child was threatened.
She cinched a belt at her waist, wrapped a kerchief at her neck and grabbed her bolero hat. Roman’s jacket and hat were still perched where he’d left them last night, so she grabbed them too.
When she got to the outdoor courtyard, Roman stood with her father and Brahim. Several horses were saddled and waiting. Thundering hooves sounded and several more riders galloped in, coming to a hard stop and kicking up dust.
Oliver led the second group and dismounted, looking more robust than he had in the past several weeks. He marched toward Roman but stopped when he saw her. She tried to smile.
“I’m so sorry, Shelene. We’ll do all we can to find him.”
“Oliver, are you sure you are prepared for a strenuous ride?”
