Page 64 of It Happened in the Highlands
“You know the captain. He’s Dr. McKendry’s partner at the Abbey. The governor. But before that he commanded warships. He’s sailed every ocean. Fought pirates and slavers and Americans. And the French. He’s smart as they come. He’ll know what we should do.”
He’d come soon. And he’d know where they were hiding. Cuffe crossed the room and sat against a wall near the older man.
“My father—the captain, I mean—he can fix anything. Everyone depends on him, even Dr. McKendry. They wouldn’t have tried to take you if he were at the Abbey today. But he’ll be here soon. We’ll be all right.”
Cuffe wished he were here now. His father.
On Thursday they’d ridden together to the village. He liked how the captain had let him choose a horse as his own. And how he’d gone with him to bring food for the old widow in the run-down cottage at the end of the lane. And how the captain came to his room on Friday night and talked to him about Lady Jo.
The captain . . . his father. And perhaps Lady Jo to make a new family. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad to grow up in Scotland.
The touch on his arm startled Cuffe. He turned to see the old man sitting beside him. The eyes were alert, watching him.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Barton?”
“Where is Jo?”
Chapter 21
Wynne knew something was wrong before they reached the long drive leading to the Abbey. Groups of men moved along in lines across the fields and the golf links, searching every inch, kicking at patches of gorse and long grass. He could see others by the ponds poking into the water with their sticks. They were looking for something.
“What do you think has happened?” Jo asked.
“I don’t know.” He paused and motioned toward the carriage and grooms waiting by the door to the annex. “But we have visitors.”
There was no point in guessing what was amiss. They’d know soon enough. But as their own carriage stopped by the door, Dermot dashed out the building and climbed in before they could step out.
“Driver, go out beyond the grove of chestnuts and stop there,” he called out, and the carriage immediately lurched into motion.
“My apologies, Lady Josephine,” he said, bowing his head in greeting. “But it would be better if you were not to arrive at the Abbey just now.”
“What’s wrong?” Wynne demanded.
Dermot turned to him. “Graham and Mrs. Barton stormed in here some time ago, angry as a pair of wasps. They want to take her son and deliver him to the lunatic asylum in Aberdeen. They claim all the arrangements have been made. I tried to reason with them, but they’re not having any of it. They’re demanding that we release him to them immediately.”
Jo grew pale and her dark eyes fixed on Wynne. “Is there a way to stop them?”
Dermot’s face showed his doubts. “They know about the attack last week. They also know Barton went into the fish pond. She’s claiming we’ve been negligent in caring for him, and as his mother, it’s her duty to take him. I managed to keep your name out of any discussion of the events, m’lady. It was obvious to me your arrival and influence on Charles’s improvement distressed them.”
“Did they ask about Lady Jo?”
“Mrs. Barton did, as soon as we found that Charles was missing.”
“What did you say?”
“That she traveled north yesterday.”
True enough, Wynne thought.
“What is the asylum in Aberdeen like?” she asked with a quaver in her voice.
“Dreadful.” The doctor shook his head. “He won’t survive there for very long.”
Wynne quickly considered their options. “Where are the Bartons?”
Dermot glanced out the carriage window like a man expecting an ambush. “Right now, they should be in the east wing with my uncle and aunt. I’m guessing the Squire is talking ceaselessly about golf while my aunt buries them with refreshments. But I don’t know how much longer they’ll stay put.”
“And Charles Barton?” Wynne asked.
