Page 36 of An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl
“And what else can you tell us of last night? You left at midnight, and were forced to alter your course, and Lady Jane was experiencing a bout of fatigue that had come on very suddenly.” Victoria paused. “Did you see any other carriages following you? Were there any near the house when you arrived? Did you hear anything in the night, that may have indicated the moment these kidnappers took your daughter?”
The Duchess looked as though she might burst into fresh tears at any second. “There was one carriage when we arrived home. It trundled up the street not long after we entered the house but carried straight on past.”
“Can you describe it?” Christian jumped in.
“It looked… well, it looked rather like the one that had loosened its wheel and blocked the road.” The Duchess nodded to herself. “I presumed the issue had been fixed, and they had gone on their way, though there were no crests or markings to denote it as any person in particular’s.”
“What about the noises? Did you stir at all when you took to your bed?” Victoria didn’t linger on the evidence of the carriage, for it wasn’t any help them. If there were no crests or sigils on the side, then it would do them no good.
The Duchess paused. “I thought I heard a wood pigeon, but it sounded… strange. Somewhat too human to have come from a bird, and the wrong hour of the day. I listened for it again, but it did not come, so I assumed I had imagined it.”
“They were calling to each other,” Victoria said aloud, on impulse. “Your Grace, was your daughter’s bedchamber closed before you discovered her absence?”
“Yes. That was why we were all so alarmed, for nobody had heard a sound within the house, aside from that pigeon, and the door was locked from the inside. When Jane did not answer my calls, I had two of the staff break the door down, which was when…” she trailed off as wrenching sobs shivered through her.
“Your Grace, will you grant me permission to observe your daughter’s bedchamber?” Victoria asked softly, giving the Duchess’ hand a sympathetic squeeze. No one deserved to have to endure this torture. No one.
“Will it help?” the Duchess whimpered.
“I hope that it may.” Victoria held the Duchess’ tearful gaze, pleading silently with her.
“Then, you have my permission.” The Duchess rose on shaky legs, and Victoria rose with her.
Together, they walked out of the front parlor and up the stairs, with Victoria helping the older woman every step of the way, until they reached a bedchamber halfway down the first floor. The door had, indeed, been broken off its hinges, swinging helplessly at an angle. Beyond, however, the room looked oddly undisturbed.
Victoria left the Duchess’ side to go about her investigations, searching the same places she had searched Lady Helena’s chamber. This time, there was no dust beneath the bed to indicate that anyone had been hiding there, though she did notice that the armoire door lay open. The only thing out of place in a room that was otherwise neat. Even the bedclothes were unruffled, as though Lady Jane had not even made it to her bed before she had been taken.
“She sank down in the armchair after she had been unrobed for the evening,” Victoria detailed aloud. “She must have been too weary to reach the bed. You see, her slippers are still here, exactly where she must have kicked them off. And here, some strands of hair, where she leant her head against the back of the chair.”
Victoria glanced from the armchair to the open door of the armoire. A direct line lay between both. “The kidnapper must have waited until Lady Jane was asleep and crept out of the wardrobe to seize her.” Her mind racing, she followed the path from the back of the armchair to the potential hiding place. Sure enough, the articles of clothing that hung from the rail had been pushed aside, and some of the shoes on the bottom were strewn at awkward angles.
“He hid inside here.” Victoria opened the lid of a large chest that sat inside the armoire. The contents had been dumped in one corner, leaving the chest itself empty. “Not even the lady’s maid would have noticed anything amiss, when she returned Lady Jane’s dress. With it being dark, in addition, all of these removed items would not have been seen.”
“Hehidin the armoire?!” The Duchess turned very pale indeed. Christian swooped into catch her before she could keel over, her entire body trembling with fear. Victoria could not blame her. These kidnappers had violated the sanctity of Lady Jane’s chamber, with at least one concealing himself in a place that should only have brought joy to a young lady. Not terror.
Victoria closed her eyes and pictured the villain edging out of the large chest and listening out for the soft sound of Lady Jane’s breathing. Whatever chemical they had managed to slip into her drink, at some point during the ball, would have taken full effect by then. All he had to do was pluck his prize and carry her out of the window. She imagined him tiptoeing along the floor, freezing at the slightest creak of a floorboard or snuffle from his sleeping quarry.
And then… she envisioned him snatching Lady Jane’s limp form up and throwing her over his shoulder. Given her figure, she would barely have weighed more than a child. An easy target.
Shuddering at the horrifying imaginings, Victoria crossed to the window where a narrow gap let in the cold morning breeze. It had been recently opened, judging by the fine smattering of dust that lay on the sill. With it being autumn, there was little cause to open a window, so that dust had been allowed to gather for some weeks.
Lifting the window up, until a blast of icy air smacked her in the face, she peered down over the outer ledge and ran her fingertips along the cold stone of the wall. As before, two dark smudges grazed the masonry, where a ladder had been placed.
The kidnapper must have cooed to his accomplice like a wood pigeon, to let him know that he had stolen their trophy…
“What have you found?” Christian had placed the Duchess in one of the armchairs and come to stand at Victoria’s side.
“Everything and nothing,” she murmured. “They used the same method as before. In fact, I imagine the second kidnapper was already within the house when the thin fellow stopped the Duchess’ carriage on the road. A lookout, if you will, to give his accomplice time to get in position.”
Christian gazed out of the window. “Why do you say that?”
“It sounds as though Lady Jane was given something, unawares, to make her sleep. Which means the kidnappers had to have been at the ball,” Victoria explained. “They would have heard the Duchess mentioning they were about to leave and gone on ahead to make sure the blockage delayed the Duchess’ carriage, giving the second man time to reach the house on foot and find a suitable hiding place.”
“So, Sir John and Lord Mobberley are not our men?” Christian sounded bitter.
“I don’t see how they could be. They were both still present at the ball at midnight, and even beyond. And I cannot bear to contemplate the idea that there may be more than two of them, in cahoots on this vile endeavor.” Victoria felt sick, for though there was evidence, they still had no means of progressing in this case. Whomever these kidnappers were, they were careful. They understood how to cover most of their tracks—enough to give nothing of use to investigators such as Victoria.
He put his hand on her shoulder. A daring gesture that made Victoria turn in alarm, her gaze settling on that confident hand. But he did not remove it. Instead, he stared intently into her eyes, his expression filled with a melee of emotions that were so conflicted that she could not decipher any single one in particular: grief, hope, possibility, guilt, to name but a few.
