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Alec strode to the bell pull and all but yanked it out of the wall. “Where’s the damn housekeeper?”
“If you rang before, she probably didn’t hear it,” Edie said. “The service rooms are a madhouse tonight.”
“Nick, you and Angus go to the Murray house,” Logan said, heading for the door. “Alec and I will talk to the servants and start on the search—”
He broke off when his grandfather hurried into the room carrying Joseph, bundled up in a cloak. Mrs. Webb, the housekeeper, followed them in.
“I’ve got him,” Angus said.
Logan swept Joseph from his grandfather’s hold. The boy’s arms snaked around Logan’s neck, hugging him with a grip that practically choked him.
He didn’t care. His son was safe and in his arms.
“Papa, I was afraid,” Joseph said in a quavering voice. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Logan rocked him, swallowing past the boulder in his throat. “It’s all right, laddie. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything hurt you.” He frowned. “You’re shivering, and your hair’s wet.”
“I fell into a puddle of water.”
“Aye, and got covered with mud, too,” Angus said.
Logan carried the boy to the fireplace, hooking a chair with his foot and pulling it close. Nick went down on one knee and shoveled more coals into the grate as Logan sat and cuddled Joseph on his lap. He eased the cloak aside to get a better look at his son.
Joseph’s face was smudged with dirt, and his hair was clotted with mud. His velvet jacket was missing a few buttons and was soaked in spots. His pants were only a bit damp, but were covered in dirt, as were his shoes and stockings.
“Let’s get this jacket off before you catch a chill,” Logan said.
The boy’s teeth were chattering. “I . . . I think I already caught one.”
Logan wrestled the jacket off. Mrs. Webb, who’d brought in some towels, helped Logan dry the boy’s face and hair. The wee lad didn’t make it easy, clinging to him like a limpet.
“Where did you find him, Angus?”
“In the herb garden, runnin’ flat out up the path to the kitchens. We wrapped him in the cloak and brought him here.”
“Thank you, Grandda.” Logan carefully wiped a clot of mud from Joseph’s neck.
“Thank the lad. He got himself back here, ye ken.”
Joseph tugged on Logan’s cravat. “Papa, the bad men took Donella. I saw it.”
Logan’s heart jammed against his ribs. “Did they see you?”
The boy shook his head. “I wanted to talk to Donella, and I thought she might be in the library. I saw her coming out when the bad men grabbed her.”
“Where were you?”
“At the other end of the hall. They pulled her into the library, so I snuck down to see if I could help.” He grimaced. “But there were three of them. I couldn’t do anything.”
It almost gave Logan a heart attack thinking about what might have happened if the kidnappers had seen Joseph. “It’s all right, son.”
The little boy rubbed his eye. “They threw a cloak on her and carried her out the window.”
Nick crouched down in front of them. “Joseph, could you tell if they hurt Donella?”
“She was kicking like anything until they got her to the window. Then she went all funny and limp.”
It took Logan a moment before he could speak. “Then what happened?”
