Page 56 of The Odd Riddle of the Lost Duchess
The Duke nodded as his hand closed over the cloak once more. “Carry on the search while I wait here.”
“Understood, Your Grace,” Greer replied. “Will you and the Duke of Newberry stay here?”
“Yes,” George replied while looking at the other Duke whose ruddy skin had gone ashen. With a discerning eye, George saw the devastation on his face and it was rare for him to feel a comparable emotion with the man who was his enemy. “We will.”
The uniformed man nodded and moved off to order the other men to continue the search.
George’s attention was trained on the cloak in his hand. His fingers traced over the cloth and his mind went back to the last time he had seen his sister.
My God, Emmeline, I have failed you. I knew you were unhappy but I have hoped you’d realize that it would pass.
The silence in the clearing was so profound that George barely remembered that Newberry was there. When he did look up, he saw the other Duke was sitting on the ground but slowly levered himself up to rest against a tree. George wanted to ask a question but found the words stuck in his throat.
“She can’t be…” Newberry’s words were so strained that his voice cracked. His eyes looked lost but then his features stiffened, “She cannot be dead. I will not accept that she’s dead.”
The man’s decisive words mirrored the ones in George’s heart, and he found himself nodding, “I concur.”
That was the limit George was about to converse with Newberry, despite how the man shared his distressed emotions over his sister. Suspicions were growing in his mind about the man. They had been born when Miss Benwick had told them that Emmeline had sent the man a message but now they were growing rapidly.
HadNewberry done something for Emmeline’s disappearance? Had he planned to take her away but perhaps his plan had gone awry?
Hell, the man is already in the crosshairs for St. Maur’s death, there weren’t many more levels of despicableness he could fall to, were there? He did come from a cursed line, after all.
They stood there until the wagons with the bloodhounds came, bare moments before dusk was starting to creep in. George stood aside when Greer gave the bloodied coat to the barking bloodhounds and the handler let the leaping, barking hounds go.
George followed closely with the hounds, not caring that his fine clothes were getting snagged or mud stained. This was his sister. Newberry was close behind him but George didn’t pay him any mind. The dogs would stop sometimes and sniff the air before spinning in another direction. Whenever they stopped to sniff at a bush, or paw at some dirt George felt his heart leap into his throat.
Dusk turned to night and the men with him lit torches as they still pressed and searched. The moon was giving them heavenly assistance as the high full moon was shining silvery rays down on them. George felt his strength waning but he’d be damned if he left off when Newberry, who didn’t look affected in the slightest, went on. He needed to do his best for his sister.
Suddenly, a dark-colored dog barked furiously, darted to a bush and rounded it. George flung himself around the bush and while the constables dragged the dogs back, he snatched up Emmeline’s reticule–empty. George knew that his sister was always armed with money wherever she went, so this emptiness told him that she had definitely been robbed.
Looking up, George felt a bleakness. The woods continued for miles upon miles, acres of land that would take weeks and possibly months to search. But then he set his jaw. Even if it took an eternity to find her, and every shilling he had, he would find her.
“Your Grace,” a constable said, “May I have the reticule? It is evidence that we can use to find the criminal.”
“How?” George asked.
“Does Lady Emmeline have a monogrammed money pouch, or handkerchief, or even a fan?” The constable explained, “If she does and any of those items show up in a pawnbroker’s shop, we will find the perpetrator.”
His words made sense and George handed over the reticule with a heavy heart, “She had a monogrammed handkerchief in gold thread, and a purple-silk money pouch, similarly monogrammed.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The constable said, “Well, men, we will reconvene in the morning. Let’s go back to the field.”
George quickly looked over to a quiet Newberry but turned his attention back to following the men to the field where the carriage lay. Newberry didn’t say a word as he passed George but then George’s hand darted out to grab the other man’s arm. Newberry’s gray eyes flashed with anger and his face contorted into rage but George didn’t care.
“If you had anything to do with this, I swear on God’s throne, I will usher you into hell myself,” George threatened.
Newberry only glared at him, yanked his arm out of the hold, and went to speak to one of his men before approaching his horse, swinging into the saddle and riding away. George pressed his lips tight before going to speak with Greer.
* * *
Noah got to his home just as the moon was almost at its apex. He led his horse to the stables in silence and went to the manor with every appendage as cold as ice. His strength held up until he went to his quarters and only there did his knees buckle. Valiantly, he grabbed at the closest sturdy surface as it all came crashing upon him—Emmeline was gone.
Not dead. He refused to say she was dead until he saw her cold body, but even then, he prayed to never see it. He made it to a seat and sat heavily. His body hunched over and he framed his ringing head in his hands. His stomach was ill, his limbs were cold, and his head hurt.HisEmmeline was gone.
Gone—she is gone!No matter how many times Noah tried to make it settle in his system, it couldn’t. She wasn’t gone, she just wasn’t with him. She had to be somewhere, alive, she had to be.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, he got up and slowly divested himself of all his stained clothes. This day had to be the worst day of his life. Not a single day of his six-and-twenty years had brought him as much grief as this one.
