Royce wondered what household emergency she’d been summoned to deal with…but why would Cranny or Retford or any of the others use Ellen to ferry a message? The summons had to be about something else…
He told himself it was their recent discussion of delicate conditions and their primitive responses that was playing on his mind, but…with a nod he excused himself and started moving through the crowd.
He felt Christian glance at him, sensed his gaze following as he made his way to where Letitia and Rose were still talking. They looked up as he halted beside them.
“Where’s Minerva?”
Letitia smiled at him. “She just stepped outside to meet someone.”
“They had a message from your half brother, or something like that.” Rose tipped her head toward the side door. “They were waiting out there.”
Royce looked toward the door-and knew Minerva wasn’t in the hallway beyond it. Every instinct he possessed was alive, pricking. Leaving the ladies without a word, he moved toward the door.
Christian drew near as he opened it.
The hallway beyond was empty.
He walked into the narrow space; to his right the hall led back into the house while to his left it ran along the ballroom a little way, then ended in a door to the gardens. Common sense suggested Minerva had gone into the house; he prowled left, drawn by a white clump on the floor before the door.
Christian followed.
Royce stooped to pick up a beribboned band covered with white silk flowers-Minerva’s mother’s wedding favor; Minerva had worn it on her wrist. Bent over, he froze, sniffed. Turning his head, he crouched, looked; from the base of the umbrella stand he teased out a scrap of linen…a handkerchief.
Without even raising it to their faces, both he and Christian, drawing near, recognized the smell. “Ether.” Rising, he stared out of the glassed doors into the gardens, but all looked peaceful, serene.
“She’s been taken.” He barely recognized his voice. His fist closed on the handkerchief. Lips curling in a snarl, he swung around-
Christian caught his arm. “Wait! Think. This was planned. Who are your enemies? Who are hers?”
He frowned. It was a huge effort to get his mind to function; he’d never felt such scalding rage-such icy terror. “We don’t have any…not that I know of. Not here…”
“You do. You have one. And he could be here.”
He met Christian’s eyes. “The last traitor?”
“He’s the one person who has most to fear from you.”
He shook his head. “I’m no longer Dalziel-he won. He got away.”
“Dalziel may be gone, but you’re here-and you never, ever, give up. He’s someone who knows that, so he’ll never feel safe.” Christian released him. “He’s taken her, but it’s you he wants.”
That was undeniably true.
“She’s the lure.” Christian spoke quickly, urgently. “He’ll keep her alive until you come. But if you alert everyone, send everyone searching…he might feel forced to kill her before you or any of us can get to her.”
The thought helped him force the terror-driven rage down, caging it like a beast, deep inside, letting his mind, his well- honed faculties, rise above it and take command. “Yes. You’re right.” Hauling in a tight breath, he lifted his head. “Yet we need to search.”
Christian nodded. “But only with those capable of acting and rescuing her if they find her.”
Royce glanced outside. “He couldn’t have imagined we’d realize so soon.”
“No. We’ve got time to do this properly, so we can get her back alive.”
“You seven,” he said. “Hendon, Cynster, Rupert, Miles, and Gerald-they were all in the Guards at one time.”
“I’ll fetch them.” Christian caught his eyes. “While I do, you have to think. You’re the only one who knows this terrain-and you’re the one who knows this enemy best. You are the best at planning battles like this-so think, Royce. We need a plan, and you’re the only one who can supply it.”
Minerva’s life-and that of their unborn child-depended on it. He nodded curtly.
Christian left him to it, and went quickly back into the ballroom.
Two minutes later, Royce returned to the ballroom. He saw Christian moving smoothly through the crowd, surreptitiously tapping shoulders. His plan was taking shape in his mind, but there was something he needed to know.
Last time he and the last traitor had crossed swords, the traitor had won. That wasn’t going to happen this time, not with what was at risk; he wanted to learn everything he possibly could before he took the field.
Letitia, still standing with Rose, was already alerted, restive and restless, when he halted beside her. “Can you and Rose find Ellen, and bring her to me in the hallway beyond the side door?” Briefly he met her eyes. “Don’t ask, but hurry-and don’t alert anyone else bar the other Bastion Club wives.” He glanced at Rose. “Or Alice and Eleanor. No one else.”
Both wanted to ask why; neither did. Lips tightening, they nodded, exchanged glances, then separated and slipped through the crowd.
Searching. He searched, too, but, finding it harder and harder to keep his expression impassive, he went back into the hallway and left the hunt to the women.
Minutes later, Leonora slipped through the door. “They’ve found her, but she was conversing with others. Eleanor, Madeline, and Alicia are extracting her.”
He nodded, pacing, too tense to remain still.
The other ladies joined them, one by one slipping into the hallway, all aware something was amiss. They threw him searching glances, but none asked. Last to join them were Eleanor, Alicia, and Madeline, shepherding Ellen, wide-eyed, before them.
She didn’t know him; sensing the anger he was trying to contain, she was already skittish.
“Just ignore the growling,” Letitia curtly advised her. “He won’t bite.”
Ellen’s eyes widened even more.
“I don’t have time to explain,” Royce said, speaking to them all, “but I need to know who Minerva came out here to meet.”
Ellen blinked. “One of your cousins asked me to tell her your half brother’s children were here, asking to speak with her. Apparently they had a gift they’d made her. He said they were waiting in the garden.” She nodded down the corridor. “Out there.”
Royce felt a sudden sense of inevitability. “Which of my cousins?”
Ellen shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t say. I don’t know them, and you all look so alike.”
Phoebe stirred. “How old?”
Ellen glanced at Royce. “Of similar age to His Grace.”
Letitia looked at Royce. “How many is that?”
“Three.” But he already knew which one it was, which one it had to be.
The door to the ballroom cracked open; Susannah peered around it. She took in the ladies, then focused on him. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer, instead said, “I need to know if Gordon, Phillip, and Gregory are in the ballroom. Don’t speak to them, just go and check. Now.”
She stared at him, then closed her mouth and went.
Clarice, Letitia, and Penny headed for the door. “We know them, too,” Penny said as she passed him.
Bare minutes later, all four came back. “Gordon and Gregory are in there,” Susannah reported. “Not Phillip.”
Royce nodded, half turned away, his mind churning.
Alicia said, “That’s not conclusive. Phillip might be anywhere-the castle is huge.”
Mystified, Susannah appealed to the others; Letitia explained they were trying to learn which of the cousins had lured Minerva away.
“It’ll be Phillip.” Susannah was definite. Royce looked at her; she went on, “I don’t know what bee he’s got in his bonnet about you, but for years he’s always wanted to know every last thing about you and your doings-and recently…it was he who suggested I invite Helen Ashton. He who told me Minerva was your lover and…not suggested but led me to think that engineering a situation might be a good thing. Of course, he never dreamed you loved her-” She broke off, paled. “Oh, God-he’s taken her, hasn’t he?”