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His mother’s parlor door opened as he reached the top and she and Tabetha ran across the hall with Gracie in tow. “What has happened?” she said, suddenly noticing the small boy. “And who is this handsome young fellow? Has there been an accident?”
“Mother, this is Paul. He is four. Lady Bella and I saved him in Hyde Park from a man who was beating him,” Slade said briskly. “Is Latham still here?”
“I am,” his friend said, rushing down from the third floor, followed by a young housemaid and the housekeeper. “What’s going on?”
“Latham, I need you to come with me. We will discuss it on the way. I need to retrieve something from the study first. Mother, can you see Paul has everything he needs—starting with a bath and then food and clean clothing. Let nothing happen to what he is wearing . . . except, maybe a good washing. We may have something in the attic that could fit him,” Slade directed. “I believe they stole him from his family. I have nothing to go on except the cut of his clothing, and his reaction to the man that beat him.”
His mother and sister gasped at the same time. “I will take charge of Paul. Gracie and I . . .” Tabetha stopped.
Gracie sniffed Slade’s hands. Then she sniffed Paul’s clothing. Stepping back, she started barking, trying to communicate something. She was not happy.
“Gracie, calm yourself,” Tabetha urged.
“No, she knows something. She smells something. Remember where we found her, Mother? I think Gracie may be a witness, and we will need her,” Slade said.
“I do not understand any of this,” Mother said, keeping her voice calm. “But I trust you and Latham to fix whatever is amiss. Hurry. Go.”
“Mother, have Jeffers send for Mr. Wortle from Father’s accounting firm. I met with him yesterday.”
“I will,” the duchess said firmly. “He will be here when you return.”
The two men retrieved their guns from where Slade had hidden them in the study and then flew down the steps, with Gracie on their heels. Their horses were waiting out front. Slade placed the dog in his saddlebag, pleased it held her securely and would keep her out from under the horses’ feet. Mounting their horses, they took off toward Bella’s family home. They did not have time to dismount before the door opened and Lord and Lady Rothmore emerged with a tearful Mary.
Lord Rothmore must have seen them. He met them at the door when they arrived. “My daughter has gone missing. I have checked around, and no one noticed anything. Her mother found one grey kid glove behind the bushes and the other one in the alley. I fear something has happened to her,” the man said. He was frantic. A footman brought him his horse, and he mounted.
“We will find her,” Slade said, trying to calm him. “Did Mary see anything?”
“No. She and Bella had planned to walk to the milliner’s shops and purchase hats and fripperies. Bella makes these decisions with little planning, although she had Mary tell Mortimer. Apparently, the ostlers and other help were all rotating their midday meal shifts and no one saw anything. These gloves are all we have,” he said in a strained voice.
Gracie started barking, drawing notice to his saddlebag.
“Your Grace, why did you bring a kitchen dog?” he asked.
“She is our family’s new dog and I believe Gracie could be a witness who can identify this man.” Sighing, he continued, “It is a long story—one I will explain later.” Gently, Slade helped Gracie out of the saddlebag, and she immediately sniffed the ground behind the bush. She sniffed the gloves in Lady Rothmore’s hands.
“May we have one of those?” Slade asked.
“Yes, certainly,” the woman sniffed, handing him one and wiping tears from her face with the heel of her hand.
Gracie sniffed at the glove and hurried through the alley.
“Quick, we need to follow her. She has picked up the scent,” Latham said.
With no need for further encouragement, the three men followed the dog, maintaining a safe distance, so she did not get entangled in their horses’ hooves. Gracie began barking when she led them to the back of a building behind the mews where a wagon appeared to have been hidden. Tracks showed where it had moved through grass and onto the road, heading back toward the park. Slade hoped the scent would not fail. Bella had to be close. His heart pulled at the thought of her, frightened at the hands of this man. He feared what would happen if he did not find her in time.
After traveling over a mile of the mews, Gracie slowed and panted.
“I need to stop and give her water,” Slade said, sliding down from his horse. “She had only just recovered from being left tied to a tree and I do not want to lose her.” He reached into the other side bag and brought out his canteen, pouring water directly into her mouth. The dog could drink the water if he poured it slow enough. When she seemed sated, she barked, unwilling to rest. He mounted his horse, and the three men continued to follow. The pattern of rest and water followed for the next hour as the dog continued to follow the scents, undeterred.
They had been tracking for several hours, buoyed by Gracie’s selflessness. Her pace slowed as they turned onto a less traveled road that skirted the back part of the park. He recognized it asScandal Lane, rumored to have been named for its remoteness and sparse lighting. It was not an area unknown to him; however, it was not one he frequented.
“Latham, do you recognize where we are?” Slade asked.
“I do,” he said with a concerned frown. “There should be small outbuildings used by the gardeners close by.”
The road curved, and they saw them. Two small gardening sheds sat ahead of them, with a horse and wagon half-hidden behind and secured to a tree.
“Gracie . . . shhh!” The dog looked up at Slade with what he would swear was agreement. She did not make a sound, but walked to the wagon and sniffed, then ran back to get him, running forward and backward to show he should follow.
