‘Just how much have you had to drink tonight, Cairnross?’ Brevershire asked. ‘You seem rather deep in your cups.’ He folded his copy of The Times and set it aside.
At that, the old earl glared at him. ‘How dare you, sir. Do not accuse me of being a drunkard when your granddaughter has been kidnapped.’
‘By ruffians,’ Brevershire repeated drily. His tone said that he didn’t believe a word of Cairnross’s tale.
‘Aye, of course. Who else?’
But Dalton believed it. He was already putting on his coat and hat. ‘Let’s go now, Grandfather.’
‘At least your son has some sense,’ Cairnross pronounced. ‘Aye, laddie, we’ll go now and save her.’ He sheathed his cutlass and turned to go. To Mrs Howard, he commanded, ‘Stay here and gather a feast for us, so that when we return, we may feed the lass.’
Mrs Howard bobbed a curtsy, and bid them, ‘Be safe, and bring our lassie home.’
Lord Cairnross gave a strong salute. ‘So I shall.’
All during the coach ride, Dalton tried to sort out the fact from fancy. He’d learned that Regina was taken by a hired man and that his grandfather and Mrs Howard had tracked her all the way to London.
‘Did they stop at inns along the way?’ he questioned.
‘Nay, laddie. They changed horses and bought food, but they didna stay overnight.’ His grandfather added, ‘I was only going to bring one driver, but Mrs Howard said we should bring two, so they could take turns sleeping. She was right, as usual.’
‘Why did they take her?’ he wondered aloud.
The question seemed to sober his grandfather. ‘I don’t ken, laddie. But we will save her, aye?’
He nodded. His thoughts wandered back to the day he had gone after her father. Lord Havershire was now safely at home in the care of a physician and his wife. Dalton had spoken to the household, strictly reminding them to keep the earl quiet and rested. He still didn’t know why Havershire had left, but he knew he had to address the issue of Mallencourt’s death.
To his surprise, he saw that the driver had brought them to the Mallencourt residence. A dark uneasiness caught in his gut.
They knew. And if he didn’t do something, they might take their own vengeance out on Regina.
Dalton didn’t know how he would approach this situation, but he thought a moment and made his plans. Then he told his grandfather of his intention. ‘Can you help me with this? We’ll split up and see if we can find her.’
There was a flicker of unrest in the old earl’s eyes, but he inclined his head. ‘’Tis dangerous, but aye, I can indeed, laddie.’ He rested his hand upon his cutlass. ‘You can depend on me. I’ve had a great deal of experience in battle.’
Whatever thoughts were going through the older man’s head, Dalton could not say. But they had only one chance to save Regina, and he would do whatever he could.
Dalton left his grandfather behind in the coach and approached the front door. He sounded the knocker, though it was well past the hour for guests. He continued rapping on the knocker until at last, a footman arrived.
‘Lord Mallencourt isn’t receiving callers. Come back in the morning.’ Before he could close the door, Dalton pushed his way through.
‘I will leave, as soon as I have my wife,’ he said smoothly.
At that, a look of alarm flashed over the footman’s face. ‘My lord, I don’t think—’
‘Let him in, Hugh,’ a voice spoke. ‘Lord Camford and I have much to discuss regarding his wife’s behaviour.’
Dalton studied the younger man, Mallencourt’s brother, and likely the new heir. ‘We do have much to discuss. Kidnapping is not an offence I will allow to pass lightly.’
‘Nor will I allow her to get away with murder.’ Mallencourt’s face held a cool solemnity. His dark brown hair framed a face with stony grey eyes. ‘She will be brought to trial.’
‘I demand that you give Lady Camford back, before I bring the law to support my case,’ Dalton insisted. ‘As my wife, she is my responsibility.’ He hoped rather fervently that no one knew the truth about their marriage.
‘I have arranged a meeting with the local magistrate,’ Mallencourt said. ‘We will discuss the details of my brother’s death and determine whether new charges should be brought forth.’
‘His death was ruled an accident,’ Dalton said. ‘What do you hope to accomplish with this?’ He was stalling, trying to draw out the man into conversation. His grandfather needed time to search for Regina.
‘I want justice,’ Mallencourt answered. ‘The world deserves to know how my brother died.’
‘The world knows how he died. You cannot overturn anything.’
‘We shall see,’ Mallencourt answered. ‘In the meantime, you will be leaving.’
‘Not without my wife.’ He started to move forwards, but this time, two footmen flanked him on either side.
‘She is not here on the premises,’ Mallencourt said. ‘But I will bring her to the magistrate’s in a few days and send word. You may see her then.’
Dalton didn’t know if the man was telling the truth or not, but he had given his grandfather all the time he could. He considered the idea of forcing his way in, but it might cause stronger consequences in the long run. At least he knew who had taken her and why.
He turned his back on Mallencourt, turning over the problem in his mind. He was vaguely aware of the servants closing the door on him, and he wrenched the door of the coach open.
There he found his grandfather happily sitting across from Regina. A breath of relief rushed through him. He didn’t know how Cairnross had found her, but the distraction had worked.
Dalton could hardly blink before she was in his arms, half-crying. He closed the coach door, and the driver took them away.
‘Well done,’ he said to his grandfather. ‘Did you have any difficulty finding her?’
‘I used your distraction to my advantage,’ Cairnross answered. ‘Went through the servants’ quarters and
