Chapter 18

Edward stopped outside Arabella's door, his heart pounding as he prepared himself to admit what he felt to her. He had tried to come up with an argument he'd use if she indeed wanted to leave but had failed.

He shook his head, steeling his resolve.

He had to try if at all. Arabella wasn't the type to hide her feelings, and if she still decided to leave, then he'd give her what she wanted.

He knocked on the door and waited for an answer, but when he didn't get one after a long minute, he opened the door. He stepped into her room, which smelled of the lavender essence that haunted his dreams, and looked around for her.

Her vanity was lined with her essentials, and the bed looked undisturbed, as if she hadn't even slept in it. Perhaps she hadn't even come upstairs yet, but that would be odd, considering she'd been with Joana, who had obviously gone downstairs for dinner and then retired to her chamber.

He moved to leave the room but paused upon spotting an envelope on her bed, still sealed. His curiosity was piqued.

He broke the seal and opened the letter, his frown deepening. It was a letter from Arabella to him.

My dear husband,

I am sorry to not have said this to you earlier, but I cannot continue this marriage any longer.

I thank you for confessing your struggles, so you'll understand why I did this.

If you're reading this now, I'm already on my way home.

Please don't look for me.

Goodbye.

Arabella.

Edward read the letter again, frowning. The Arabella he'd come to know wasn't one to put up false pretenses. Even with her family, it had been difficult for her to keep up their charade, and she'd nearly exposed them. And he'd come to know she was bold, having no qualms about voicing how she felt.

It was hard to imagine she just wrote a letter and left, when the woman he knew would most definitely have faced him head on.

He stepped out of her chambers, asking a maid scurrying past if she'd seen her.

"I haven't seen Her Grace, Your Grace," the maid answered with a curtsy.

Edward nodded. "Do send her my way if you do."

"Yes, Your Grace." She curtsied again, before scurrying away.

He went down to the dining room and then the drawing room. He spotted his mother and Charles deep in conversation.

"Mother, have you seen Arabella?" he asked, not looking at his brother.

He was yet to forgive him after the last argument they had and didn't need any looks that would aggravate him now. There was an uncomfortable buzz under his skin, but he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"No, Eddie," Harriet answered. "At least not since this morning when you left for the picnic. She didn't even come down for dinner, so I assumed you two were still together. Is everything all right?"

Edward looked away from her, trying to hide the frantic look in his eyes.

"Yes, Mother," he answered. "We were just playing a game, and I am yet to find her."

Harriet let out a laugh and waved her hand dismissively. "You young love birds are always playing such funny games."

He walked off before she could say anything and stepped outside, tracing the path she'd taken when he'd last seen her.

He considered asking Joana where she'd last seen her but froze when he saw her bonnet on the floor near the bottom of the stairs leading up to the apothecary's shop.

He picked it up, rushing up the stairs to the apothecary's shop, which was empty. He rushed back down, moving towards his family wing and sending out the footmen to look for Arabella.

Fear started to creep into his heart as he wondered if she truly had left him. But if she had, how had she done it?

She was still new to his duchy, so she couldn't have known anyone who would help her, but a suspicion lingered at the back of his mind.

What if she'd been kidnapped?

He remembered the incident with the straps of the saddle. They'd most definitely been cut, and he'd been grateful that Emily hadn't been hurt badly.

He wondered how possible it was for Arabella to have made an enemy so quickly, and he couldn't even imagine anyone wanting to hurt him, even for political reasons.

He'd been neutral in most parliamentary decisions, so he didn't know anyone who could have cause to harm him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when a painful groan rent the air. He looked up to see a footman tumble down to the ground.

He rushed towards him, shocked when he saw the trail of blood on the floor.

"Your Grace," the footman cried, looking up at him.

Edward lifted the man's head, eyeing the fresh blood on the floor. "What is your name?" he asked. "What happened to you?"

"Your Grace, I… I'm sorry," the footman choked out. "The Duchess… Joana… in trouble."

At the word trouble, Edward's mind went into overdrive. He ordered the maid that had caught up to them to send for the physician and held the footman's head up.

"Speak slowly. The physician is on his way."

"Your Grace, I'm sorry," the footman whispered, his voice so low that Edward had to lean down to hear him. "Lady Joana has her and is taking her to a ship to the west."

Panic immediately filled Edward, and he wanted to move, but the footman stilled him with a bloody hand.

"She's not alone…" he trailed off as his eyes fluttered shut.

Edward pressed his fingers to the man's wrist, relieved to feel his pulse, though it was weak.

He signaled to another footman who joined them to hold the man's head while he got to his feet and rushed to the stables. He sent a footman ahead of him to tell the stable hand to saddle a horse, grabbing his pistol and a hunting knife in the event he needed them.

The ominous warning that Joana and Arabella weren't alone could mean many things, and he didn't want to take a chance that could end up endangering Arabella.

He sent a message through his butler to Charles and then to the constables, and tried to look for tracks around the castle walls.

He spotted a fresh trail in the dimming light leading from the back garden entrance and kicked his horse into a fast trot down the track.

His heart pounded in time with his stallion's hooves as he worried about what he'd find ahead of him. He hoped his wife wasn't hurt.

Be brave, Arabella. I'm coming.

He found himself wanting to yell, to punch something, to throttle Joana for putting her life and Arabella's in danger.

Fear like nothing he'd ever experienced pushed him down the trail till he got to a point in the road where the tracks started to merge.

He dismounted his horse, trying to identify the trail he'd been tracking, but with the anxiety flowing through him, he could barely focus.

"Fuck!" he yelled, kicking a shrub.

How was he going to save her when he could barely find the path? For all he knew, they were more than halfway to their destination. If he'd known, he'd have restrained Joana in his study and stopped her from carrying out her foolish plan.

Fuck!

Charles had been right about him all along. He really was incompetent in all he did. He'd failed to identify the hidden threat and protect his wife.

"Edward!" he heard a familiar voice yell.

He looked up to see his brother approaching him at top speed, pulling his horse to a stop at the last minute.

"Calm down, boy." Charles patted his horse, dismounting. "I got your message. Are you sure she hasn't run off?"

Red filled Edward's vision, and he had to clench his fists to keep from hitting his brother. "If you've come to insult my wife again, you're welcome to return home," he barked.

"I'm not here to—God, man, what am I supposed to think? Joana? The woman has been your ward since?—"

"You don't think I know that?" Edward snapped.

"You don't have to be so rude. I'm only here to help."

"Are you certain? Or are you here to tell me, again, that I'm incompetent?"

"Edward, I don't think you're incompetent." Charles sighed. "I know I am hard on you, but?—"

"You don't?" Edward asked incredulously, running a hand through his hair. "You've been against every decision I've made since I inherited the duchy."

"That's only because I worry about?—"

"The ruination of our family, I know. You've screamed it in my ears every day for the last ten years." He knew he sounded like he was whining, but he didn't need Charles to tell him he was a failure. He already knew it. "But I am not Father. I want the best for our family, too. You're not the only one who lost a father. You're not the only one with that stain on your soul. You're not the only one who has to carry that burden. I do too, and I have to put on a smile while doing so, so you can live freely."

Charles frowned, looking away from him. "I meant no harm by my actions."

"It matters not whether you meant it or not. Your words… they've become reality. I have failed my wife. Our family. I have failed to protect my home." Edward hung his head.

Charles walked up to him, squeezing his shoulder. "You cannot give up just yet." He smiled. "Tell me what you've?—"

The sound of approaching hooves drew their attention. They turned around and saw the constables approaching at top speed. Edward was grateful they'd come speedily and mounted his horse.

"Your Grace," they greeted as they stopped before them.

Edward wasted no time answering them but pointed at the tracks he'd been following.

"They're moving fast, but from here I can't seem to identify which trail is theirs."

The route was a common one used by many wagons, so his tracking ability, albeit useful for prey, was limited here. He sincerely hoped they'd prove useful, even though he'd had countless reasons not to trust them in the past. He hoped they at least had a good tracker in their ranks, or the wait would have been futile.

The head constable nodded, beckoning one of the younger constables to come forward.

"Mikhail's the best tracker among us. He can sniff a trail from?—"

"Then let him get started," Edward snapped, not caring for a speech about their proficiency.

"Y-yes, Your Grace."

Edward would have felt some degree of shame for how he'd acted if he was in a better mood, but his worry for Arabella's safety made him irrational. He would worry about apologizing later.

He had yet to process the fact that it was Joana who'd done something so despicable, all because she… loved him? It made no sense whatsoever that she'd behave the way she did.

She'd been so close with Arabella and seemed the most happy about his marriage, but it seemed they'd been effectively misled.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts, and looked at his brother, who was beckoning him over.

"Come, they've found their trail," Charles called.

Edward nodded, drawing closer.

The young constable, Mikhail, pointed to their left. "They're heading west."

"West is towards the coast," the head constable pointed out.

"And they are at least an hour ahead of us," Charles added. "We need to ride hard if we are to catch up with them."

They spurred their horses into action, not even slowing as the light dimmed and night fell. They hoped the people they were tracking would be at least more cautious and slow down.

They rode hard till they emerged into the open road. Edward kept whispering the same prayer over and over again.

"We have to slow down, Your Grace," the head constable yelled over the sound of horses' hooves. "'Tis dangerous to travel so fast so late at night."

Edward ignored the man, kicking his heels into his stallion's flanks.

"Edward!" Charles shouted. "You're no good to her dead."

"I have to get to her."

"You will. Slow down."

Edward sighed, pulling the reins to slow his beast.

They rode at a much slower pace, crossing into a town alive with night festivities.

"We should ask around if anyone has seen anything suspicious," the head constable suggested, and they nodded, agreeing to separate and meet up in a quarter of an hour.

Edward scanned his surroundings for any familiar face, but when he saw none, he decided to visit places travelers would most likely frequent.

He stopped by the stables, but no one had come in for fresh horses. The baker and apothecary told him they hadn't seen anything suspicious, but when he went to the blacksmith, he knew Providence was on their side, for he overheard a conversation that piqued his interest.

He stayed off to the side of the shop but close enough that he could hear the conversation.

"The blonde whore thinks we'll let her go." A man laughed. "We'll make a fortune off the two of ‘em."

"Didn't I tell ye our luck will soon turn around, Sam?"

"Aye, ye did." The first man laughed. "It's too bad the wheel broke now."

"There's no way the lass's husband will find us so quickly."

Edward spotted Charles and the constables approaching and motioned for them to wait.

When the men emerged from the shop, wheel in hand, he snuck behind them, making sure to stay out of sight.

He apparently didn't need to explain anything to the other members of his party. They followed his plan, taking up different positions until they neared their final destination.

Edward was grateful they'd made camp in the woods away from the town, so their arrest would be easy.

When he spotted Arabella tied to a tree trunk, his heart pounded hard against his ribcage, but relief washed over him. They found her.

When the men entered their makeshift tent, Joana stepped out of the shadows to meet them.

"Well?" she snapped. "Were you able to fix it?"

"Aye."

"Good. Fix it and let's move."

"We make camp here tonight," the bigger man answered.

"No. We move now. That was the deal."

"That was before ye stepped out of yer lands." He cackled, stepping closer to her. "Ye have to play by our rules now."

"And if they find us?"

"They cannot." He laughed. "We made sure of it."

"You do not know Edward." She looked around. "He's very persistent."

"I thought you said you made sure he won't follow us."

"I did, but…"

The man stepped closer to her, running a finger down her cheek. "I do hope we do not run into any problems, lass," he warned, keeping his voice dangerously low. "I do not want to have to kill anyone today."

She scoffed and pulled back from him. "I did my job. I'm just being careful."

He smirked. "If ye did, ye'd be in his bed, riding his cock, not here with us." He laughed. "Ye're a fine woman, and it's a cold night. If ye come to me, I won't turn ye away. Let me show ye what a real man's cock looks like."

Joana gasped and slapped him. "How dare you, you worthless scum?" she yelled.

Edward watched the man's temper rise, but before he could hit her, he stepped out with his pistol raised.

"If you take another step, you'll find yourself without a brain."