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He’d discuss it with the Kellys when he returned to London. He didn’t exactly want to discuss his feelings for Emily, but at this point he needed an objective opinion. He needed to—
He froze and held up a hand to signal the men behind him to stop as well. There was the place he had left Emily. He’d remembered the route perfectly. There was the tree and the overturned cart. It was growing dark as the afternoon slid toward evening, but this was no trick of the shadows.
Emily was gone.
FOR PERHAPS ONE OFthe first times in his life, Will didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to think. Where the hell could she have gone? She’d been injured. She couldn’t have gone far on her own. Had the separatists found her? He looked about for signs of their approach or signs of a struggle and saw none.
A darker thought entered his mind. What if she’d just been waiting for her opportunity to join the separatists? She’d known he suspected her. She might have decided to go into hiding before she could be taken into custody.
Will shook his head. Nothing about the incidents in the last twenty-four hours made sense if she was in league with theseparatists. They had tried to kill her—or at least not tried at allnotto kill her. Had they taken her by force then?
“Sir?” the guard behind him said.
Will turned. “She’s gone,” he said matter-of-factly. “She was here an hour or so ago, but now she’s gone.” Will might not know what to do, but he could give orders. “Have your men fan out and search for any sign of her. Start by backtracking. I want to go over this area myself.”
“Yes, sir.” The guard gave the orders and the men behind him turned and began to move slowly back the way they’d come, eyes downcast and attention on the ground. Will moved carefully toward the cart. He’d have the men search here and in front of him as well, but he’d rather go over it himself first. They would most likely trample any signs, and he’d been trained to take note of details as well as in tracking. He wished now he’d had more time at the Farm so he might have improved his tracking skills.
He searched the area, finding no sign of a scuffle or which way she might have gone after he’d left. Was it good or bad that he didn’t see signs of struggle or resistance? It meant she’d gone willingly with whoever had helped her. He started along the most likely path out of the woods—the way he’d walked when he’d found the cart. That path was still trampled from his efforts to drag the cart back.
She could have walked out on her own. Her injury didn’t prevent her from walking, but how far could she have gone? He’d seen her wound. It was real, and he knew her pain was real. Will emerged in the field where he’d found the cart and began to search for signs of Emily here. He found areas beyond where he had walked before where the ground cover had been flattened, but it seemed as though only one person had walked here. He followed the trail as best he could but saw no signs of a skirt dragging.
So were these footprints from a local farmer or a separatist? And where was Emily?
“Sir?”
Will turned quickly, annoyed at the interruption of the guard. “What is it?”
“It’s growing dark, sir.”
Will looked at the sky. Itwasgrowing dark. In another hour, he wouldn’t be able to see a thing, and they still had to return through the wooded area to the road. “We can’t return to London without Lady Averley,” Will said.
“I agree, sir, but perhaps we should start searching again in the morning. The men are tired and hungry.”
Will wanted to shout that Emily was tired and hungry, but she would have no cozy inn tonight.
“Fine. Have your men start back.”
“What about you, sir?”
“I’ll follow in a moment.”
Will turned back to the field, hands on hips. Now that he stood still, his mind registered that he was cold and wet and bone tired. But of course, he was cold. He didn’t have his coat. He’d left it with Emily.
Will turned suddenly and marched back into the trees, moving quickly to the overturned cart where he’d kissed her and touched her. He ducked down, waiting a moment until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. But his hands felt the ground, telling him what his eyes would see in a moment. His coat was not there. Wherever she’d gone, she’d taken it with her.
THE NEXT MORNING WILLhad the royal guard assembled in the inn’s courtyard before the sun was up. He had no authority over them, but perhaps Palmerston or Prince Albert had given them order to defer to him because the head of theguards seemed more than willing to take his commands. Not that deference was anything new to Will. He was used to it. His mother had always said he was born to give orders—she hadn’t always meant it as a compliment. Still, it served him well this morning. The men listened to him, eager to please.
“And after we’ve gone over every stretch of that area on the road, we go to every farm and knock on every door and ask if they have seen her or the assassins.”
A young man in the back raised his hand. “Sir, should we look for the assassins as well?”
Will nodded. “Look for any signs of them having been there, but the guards who were with us yesterday said they fled after a brief pursuit. I don’t believe the cutthroats are still in the area, but I’ve been wrong before so keep your eyes open.”
He’d been wrong to leave Emily yesterday. He should have taken her with him. He’d chastised himself a thousand times and played out every alternate scenario in his mind. If anything had happened to her, it was his fault. He’d never forgive himself. “Any more questions?” he asked, voice curt.
The men shook their heads or shoutedno, sir.
“Then let’s go find her.”
