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He’d tried to send her home to wait when darkness fell, but she said she couldn’t bear to stay home and wait. She walked until she was shivering with fatigue. Even then he had the devil’s own time persuading her to get into the carriage, though it was an open one, and she might spot Lucie as easily—perhaps more easily—from its height than from the pavement.
At three o’clock he’d taken her home. “You’ll be no good to anybody if you don’t get some rest,” he told her.
“How can I rest?”
“Lie down. Put your feet up. Take some brandy. I’m going home to do the same thing. The search hasn’t stopped. It won’t stop. Longmore and I will come back for you in a few hours. When it’s light.”
“She’s afraid of the dark.” Her voice wobbled.
“I know,” he said.
“What shall I do?” she said.
What shall I do if she’s dead?
The unspoken question.
“We’ll find her,” he said.
The conversation played through his mind again and again while he lay on the library sofa. He closed his eyes but they wouldn’t stay closed.
He rose and paced.
He had to think the unthinkable. He had to allow for the possibility she’d been taken. Very well. But all was not lost. A ransom would be sought. Who’d keep a well-dressed child, who spoke with the accents of the gently bred, when money might be made?
Had the police thought of that? He rose and went to his desk. He started making notes and planning strategies while he waited for the sun to rise.
Aloud cough woke him.
Clevedon opened his eyes. His mouth tasted gritty and his head ached and he thought at first he’d been on a prime binge. Then he realized his head wasn’t on a pillow but on his desk. Then he remembered what had happened.
He jerked his head up from the desk.
Halliday stood on the other side.
“What?” Clevedon said. “What? What time is it?” He looked toward the window. Dawn had broken, but not long ago. Good.
“A quarter past seven, your grace.”
“Good. Thank you for waking me. I did not want to oversleep.”
“There’s someone to see you, sir,” said Halliday.
“From the police?” Clevedon said. “Have they found her?”
He saw that Halliday was having difficulty maintaining his composure.
Clevedon leapt up from his chair. There was a great rushing noise in his head. His heart pounded. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“If I may, sir.”
“May what?”
But Halliday went out.
“Halliday!”
The house steward came back in. He was carrying a very dirty, very wet little girl.
