Page 49 of His Darling Duchess
Panic surged, a raging beast clawing to break free, but Rhys tamped it down. He must remain calm. Aurelia's life depended on it.
"Send men to scour the city," he commanded. "Search every inn, every hovel. Leave no stone unturned."
Within moments, every man in the house had dispersed into the London streets. Rhys paced before the fireplace, his boots thudding dully on the Aubusson carpet. How had he allowed this to happen? He should never have left Aurelia's side, not evenfor a moment. If any harm came to her, he would never forgive himself.
After what seemed an eternity, a footman returned with news. "Your coach was seen heading west out of the city, my lord."
Rhys bolted for the stables, his heart pounding as loudly as Brutus's hooves on the cobblestones. He had failed Aurelia once today. He would not do so again.
Urging Brutus into a gallop, Rhys raced out of London as fast as the noble animal could carry him. The biting wind whipped tears from his eyes, or perhaps they were of his own making.
Somewhere ahead, Aurelia needed him. And he was coming for her.
Hours passed in a blur of hedgerows and rolling fields, pausing briefly at inns to ask if his carriage had been sighted, and then pressing on once he received confirmation he was on the right road. Rhys pushed Brutus mercilessly, driven by fear and desperation, and the brave charger responded nobly, just as he had on every battlefield the two of them had survived on the Continent. Darkness fell, and still he rode on, terror surging through his veins.
When a rider approaching pulled up his horse, waving Rhys to a halt, he wanted to ride on past, ignore the other man. The rider wheeled his horse in front of Rhys, though, causing Brutus to rear and whinny his displeasure. Instinctively, Rhys reached for his weapon.
“Ho, Your Grace!” the man cried, eyes wide with alarm. “I have news of your wife!”
Rhys lowered his pistol, pulse still racing. "What news of Aurelia?"
"Your man Mr Hale spotted your coach heading toward the old hunting lodge. It seems Lady Aurelia is being held there against her will."
The beast clawed at Rhys's composure again, sharper talons than before. "Then what are you waiting for? Take me to her at once!"
“Mr Hale is waiting for you with the magistrate in High Wycombe. Please, the magistrate wants to see you first.”
Rhys gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to race for the hunting lodge, shoot Grantleigh dead and reclaim Aurelia immediately. But Jeremy Hale was a sensible man with a level head, something Rhys was intelligent enough to realise he himself lacked at that moment. Hale would not allow Aurelia to be placed in any more jeopardy than she already was.
“Very well,” he bit out. “Lead on… but hurry!”
The man eyed Brutus, sweaty and lathered, but nodded. They progressed at a steady pace to High Wycombe, where a building was lit up, men gathering outside carrying lit torches.
A man hurried up to take Brutus as Rhys dismounted.
“I’ve ridden him too hard,” Rhys said with regret, laying a hand on the horse’s sweating neck. “Can you take care of him… and find me another horse?”
“Aye, at once, Your Grace!”
“You’re here!” Hale was silhouetted in the doorway. One look at Rhys’s face and he stepped outside and took his arm. "I understand your urgency," Hale said, "but we must proceed with caution. Grantleigh's men will shoot you on sight."
Rhys scoffed. "Let him try." Another horse was being brought out and he stepped towards it, fulling intending to mount up and ride on.
Hale grabbed Rhys’s arm, halting his progress. "Think, man! If you are killed, what will become of Aurelia?"
Rhys wrestled with the urge to throw a punch. But Hale was right. He needed a cool head now more than ever.
"Very well," he bit out. "What do you propose?"
"We approach the lodge under cover of darkness, when Grantleigh's men will be at their most vulnerable. You’re here earlier than I expected; we were preparing to leave and planned to surround the property, leaving him no opportunity to escape.”
Rhys clenched his jaw, loathing the thought of waiting even another minute. But for Aurelia's sake, he would do what needed to be done.
“Gather the men and let’s be off,” he said, and Hale nodded, letting go his grip on Rhys’s arm.
“I’m glad you’re thinking clearly. We’ll get her back, Stowe. I swear it.”
“If Grantleigh has harmed so much as a hair on her head…” Rhys could not even finish the thought.
