“All this new knowledge of Jason is a wee bit much,” Cait admitted. “I spent our whole journey trying to puzzle him out, and then when I finally reckoned I understood him…yesterday I discovered he’s someone else entirely.”
“No, he’s not.” As they walked, Kendra ran a hand along the low fence beside her. “You may be surprised to find him titled and a man of means, but inside, he’s exactly who you saw. Or what you’ve made him to be.” She stopped and leaned against the rail. “You’ve changed him, Cait. In good ways.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come, they sell lemonade on the other side of the square. I’ll treat you.” Kendra linked her arm through Cait’s. “With or without brandy?”
“Definitely with,” Cait said dryly.
The lemonade was cool and bracing. They walked around the fields for a spell, drinking and chatting, and after a while Cait began to feel better. Children ran circles around them, their harried mothers not far behind. Street balladers were there to entertain, as well as violinists and one lone bagpiper that made Caithren’s heart swell.
She touched her amulet, rubbing her fingers over the smooth rectangular emerald. Tonight was the wedding. She’d best head back to the house to ready herself.
“May I borrow another gown for tonight?”
“Of course.” Kendra eyed her assessingly. “I’ve a lovely one in yellow that I think will just fit.”
“I’m sure it will do. Whether Jason returns or nay, I must go to Lord Darnley’s wedding to meet up with Adam.” By force of habit her hand went into her pocket, to feel for his portrait and pull it out.
“Ford and I can take you. We’re invited and were planning to go anyway, in order to find out who Jason killed.” She squinted at the miniature. “What is that?”
“Adam’s picture.” When Kendra reached, Caithren handed it over. “Do you see a resemblance?”
“Oh, yes.” Kendra grinned, looking from the wee painting back to Cait. “You’ve the same eyes and chin and hair.”
“That’s all we share,” Cait said. “We couldn’t be more different.” She sighed. “I’d best get back and prepare to leave.”
One more night dressed as an English lady to find Adam, then she would head back home where she belonged. Her hair would go back into plaits, and she would be herself again. Hopefully then she could leave this devastating feeling behind, and forget Jason Chase.
Her hand went up to finger the foreign English curls—and she felt something missing. “My hat! I forgot my hat! I must’ve left it on that bench.” She began running.
“Wait!”
At Kendra’s shout, Cait turned back.
“Have you no sense of direction?”
“Nay.” She laughed at herself. “Where was it, then?”
“There. Behind that big tree, and back along the path a bit.”
“Aye. Bide a wee. I mean, wait here. I shall be right back.”
She hurried along the shady path, relieved when she spotted the bench and saw that no one had taken her hat. Running the last few steps, she grabbed it and jammed it on her head.
Just then, a horse came thundering through the park. Someone scooped her off her feet. Her heart hammering, she found herself facedown across a man’s lap, his hand tangled in the chain around her neck in an effort to wrestle her upright.
She kicked and twisted, trying to find freedom, but his grasp tightened and the chain bit into her throat. Finally it snapped.
She heard a roaring in her ears as she watched her amulet tumble to the grass.
Her protection, gone. Her hope, gone.
“Let me go!” she wailed, her eyes filling. The emerald looked smaller and smaller as they rode away, her last glimpse of it blurry through her tears.
Something cold and thin pressed into the back of her neck.
“It’s the dull edge of a knife,” Geoffrey Gothard growled, “but one more move and it’ll be the sharp side instead.”
SIXTY-FIVE
“WHAT DO YOU mean, she never came back?” Jason paced the drawing room, then came to stand beside Kendra, staring down at her. “Where could she have gone?”
“I looked all over, then I figured she must have come back here.” Her gaze kept straying to the window, as though she expected to see Cait emerge from the park across the street. “Lincoln’s Inn Fields is not that big. How could anyone possibly disappear in it?”
“You don’t know Caithren.” He tried to steady his erratic pulse, reminding himself how easily she tended to get lost. “She has a terrible sense of direction.”
“So she told me. But I thought she was fooling.” At Jason’s glare, she flinched. “I looked, Jason. Everywhere. I’m sorry. It’s not as though I lost her on purpose. Come, I’ll show you where we were. Perhaps she’s waiting there now.”
Calm. As he followed Kendra out the door, he struggled for calm. Geoffrey Gothard couldn’t have taken her. He’d spotted him less than an hour ago.
He hoped.
Suddenly he wasn’t sure. He pulled out his watch, but his hand was shaking, so he shoved it back into his pocket. Dodging the traffic that always surrounded the square, he trailed his sister across the street and into the park. Together they hurried along a path.
The gray day was his enemy, its shadows tricking him into thinking he saw Cait everywhere. “What color is she wearing?”
“Blue. The gown with the puffy sleeves that I wore to Lady Stanhope’s house party.”
“I haven’t memorized your wardrobe, Kendra.”
Wisely saying nothing, she slanted him a glance. “Here.” She stopped before a stone bench. “She left her hat here. It’s gone. So she must have found it.”
“I’ve eyes in my head,” he snapped.
“Your face is turning red. You never get upset. Or you never used to, until
