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“Girvin met us in the front hall. Said ye were in one of the classrooms, and we should go there. Felicity ran ahead and went in. When I followed, Girvin hit me from behind. When I went down, she hit me again and put me out.”
Samantha pressed a hand to her roiling stomach. “My God.”
Not only had she trusted the bloody woman, she’d delivered Felicity right into her hands.
“How long ago were you out?”
“About twenty minutes, I think.” He gazed up at her, his eyes bloodshot and furious. “I canna believe she got the drop on me.”
“No, it was my fault.” She grabbed her reticule, pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to him. “Catch your breath. One of Mr. Logan’s men is keeping watch from the tavern across the street. I’m going to ask if he saw anything.”
She ran out of the room and down to the central staircase. Panic chased her like a demon from hell. Girvin was obviously involved, but why would she take Felicity, and why now? Even in her note, which Girvin had obviously read, Samantha hadn’t mentioned Arthur’s name. She’d simply said she had new evidence that Braden needed to see.
Braden.
He would never have gotten that note.
As she pelted down the stairs, the front door opened and Braden stepped into the entrance hall. He took off his hat and glanced up at her, starting to smile as he dropped his hat on the side table.
Then his smile instantly vanished as he took in her face. He rushed to meet her, and Samantha threw herself into his arms.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Girvin,” she gasped out. “She hit Donny and took Felicity.”
“What?” he exclaimed. “Why?”
“She’s in on the entire thing, Braden. So she coshed Donny and took Felicity. But I’ll explain later.” She started to struggle out of his arms. “Right now I’ve got to find Logan’s man and ask him if he saw anything.”
“Is Donny badly hurt? Does he need my help?”
“I . . . I don’t think so. Braden, we really need to get Logan’s man.”
“I’ll fetch him. Go take care of Donny.”
She grabbed him by the sleeves and shook him. “Braden, shetookFelicity.”
“And I promise we’ll get her back.”
“But—”
His gloved hand cupped her cheek. “Samantha, it’s understandable that you’re shocked and scared, but you cannot fall apart. Felicity needs you. We all need you, all right?”
As Samantha stared into his grim but calmly set features, she felt her panic ease. “Yes, you go.”
He turned and stalked out the door, his greatcoat swirling around his legs like a cloak.
She ran back upstairs, gasping for breath. Terrible visions of Felicity in the hands of those monsters swam through her brain. If anything happened to her—
Stop.
Braden was right. She’d be no good to Felicity if she fell apart. She’d done that after Roger died, and she’d be damned to hell if she did it again.
She hurried into her office. Donny had wiped off the blood, and she saw that he had a cut over his temple and his face was starting to purple. Yanking open one of her desk drawers, she pulled out a bottle of whisky and a glass. She never drank the stuff but kept it on hand if one of the board members, like Arthur . . .
Her mind stuttered on his name, then a cold fury rushed in. They would find Felicity, and thenshewould find Baines. And when she did, she just might bloody well kill him.
She poured out a dram and thrust the glass into Donny’s hand. “Here, drink this.”
