Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

T homas rode through the countryside like a man possessed, a single thought in his mind. His speed was hampered by the simple fact that night had already fallen, and he had no lantern to light his way, only pale moonlight that kept dipping behind the clouds. One could only ride so fast when they could barely see ahead of them.

Unbeknownst to him, somewhere within the next half an hour, he would pass through the exact spot where Frederick had pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Sophia, abducting her most cruelly. The only clue left behind was the irregular patterns of horseshoes on the ground, which showed a pair of horses meeting up and eventually moving in opposite directions.

The night was more than enough to hide that crime today.

At the first inkling of dawn, Thomas reached the Kendalls’ house and stopped right outside the main entrance, both he and his horse utterly exhausted.

“Your Grace?” He was immediately greeted by James, who was just stepping down from a carriage as if he had spent the night indulging. “Your Grace, is that you?”

“James.” Thomas dismounted and looked directly at him, pausing to choose his words carefully. “You are an honest man, aren’t you?”

James frowned, sweeping a hand through mussed hair. “I try to be.”

“Can you please tell me if Sophia doesn’t want to see me again? I know she came here, and I promise—you say the word and I will leave. I will not be a bother. I just want to know she’s safe.”

James’s obvious confusion didn’t do much to alleviate his fears. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Your Grace.”

“Is Sophia not in your house?” Thomas asked, his throat dry.

“I… we wouldn’t know. Mother and I visited a carpenter in Maltbury and just returned. We were supposed to return last night, but our carriage lost a wheel, so we were delayed longer than we had planned.”

As James finished the sentence, Lydia stepped down from the other side of the carriage and looked at Thomas’s distressed expression.

“What is the problem, Your Grace?” she asked, her voice croaky with sleep.

“From what I understand, Sophia left Heathcote Manor late the night before last,” Thomas began as the order of things came to him. “She was meant to take the carriage, but then she decided to take her horse. Earlier, she told me she had some important business she wanted to discuss with her family and promised she would return yesterday. When she did not arrive by nightfall, I thought she might have fled and lied to me about returning, but… she didn’t take any of her belongings with her.”

“He speaks the truth,” said Charles as he walked out the front door, having heard the commotion. “Sophia was indeed here, and we did discuss important business.”

“But… she’s not here anymore?” Thomas could feel his voice cracking, but he couldn’t care about his personal image right now.

“Your Grace, she left this morning.” Charles’s voice wavered. “She… is she not at your residence?”

Thomas took a long pause and covered his mouth, trying to steady himself. He shook his head. “No. No, she’s not.”

“Where else could she be?” Thomas paced back and forth across the parquet, a tremor in every step. “Is there a place where you know she could go? Somewhere to hide away or something…”

They had all moved inside to the library, every face full of gloom. Samuel had also joined them when he heard the disturbance and was now perched uncomfortably on the window seat like a statue.

Charles noticed his wife, who sat on a reading chair and looked on the verge of tears, and he immediately went to her.

“My dear…”

“Charles, what has happened to my daughter? Our little girl? What has happened to her?” Lydia pleaded, tugging on her husband’s lapels.

“My dear, I’m sure she’s all right and it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

“Lord Alderley,” Thomas called, pausing his nervous pacing. “Do you have three horses at your disposal?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

“If it wouldn’t trouble you, I’d like to ask for your help in searching for Sophia.”

“Absolutely. Anything for her.” Charles turned towards his son. “James?”

“It goes without saying,” James replied. “Samuel, you will check the residences of our friends. I will ride to this grandmother of yours, Your Grace. Father, you and the Duke can check the road between here and Heathcote Manor, searching any crossroads where she might have veered off course.”

Thomas caught a dark look from Samuel, but the young man remained silent, so he ignored it. “Agreed.”

“I am coming, too.” Lydia stood up.

Charles tried to push her back down into the chair. “My dear, are you certain you?—”

“I can’t stay still when my daughter could be out there all on her own,” Lydia insisted.

They all turned and looked at Thomas expectantly.

“We shall reconvene at Heathcote Manor before sunset. Hopefully, this is all for naught and she simply returns home.”

But he saw his own fears reflected on the faces of his wife’s family. Not one of them believed this was a misunderstanding, and all of them were as desperate as the others to see her safely home, whichever home that might be.

Sophia had brought them together, and for as long as she was missing, the feud and the history between them didn’t matter a jot.

Sophia felt something small and wet hit the back of her neck and shivered.

It’s… raining…

Over her head, she could barely pick up the sounds of water drops hitting a roof made of wood, confirming her assumption. That was, so far, the only clue she had about her location.

She still had no clue, however, about why her uncle had acted in such a manner. She knew he would have trouble accepting peace at last, but to stoop to a threat of violence? Never. Not even in his strictest and most violent outbursts did she take him for a man capable of abducting a person—and his niece, no less.

And yet, there was a disturbing amount of familiarity and practice in his actions.

What have you been hiding, Uncle?

Gauging the passage of time with her head covered in a coarse sack was nigh-on impossible. It must have been a few hours already, considering she couldn’t hear birds singing anymore. Her shoulders and wrists were starting to hurt from having them bound behind her back for hours, and her feet felt uncomfortable from being tied and in riding boots all day. And now, she also felt cold.

But most importantly, she felt alone.

Her thoughts went back to that first night at Heathcote Manor, where the unfamiliarity of the house felt like it was going to swallow her up. But there was no escape this time. No scuttling away into the library like a rat to snatch a book and pass the time.

And no Thomas…

She remembered being held in his arms in the warmth of glowing firelight, feeling safer in his embrace than she had ever felt before. She thought of his partial confession in the empty dining room and wished she had just stayed there instead of hurrying off with her book of revelations. If she had taken her time, enjoyed him, and confessed in return, maybe she wouldn’t be there now. If she had Thomas with her, he might have prevented this one way or another.

For a second, she could feel his presence around her, and she felt like he would burst through the door any second now and rescue her.

A door did shriek open, and she flinched at the sound.

Her heart climbed up her throat, her legs instinctively pulling themselves up to her chest. She tried to complain but remembered her mouth was still gagged, so only muffled groans came out. Through the fabric covering her face, she could see a faint light approaching her.

A hand pulled the sack off her head. Her uncle was standing there, half crouched, a lantern in his hand. She grumbled and protested as much as her bonds allowed her to, but he raised a hand that made her flinch and stop.

“Good girl,” he said and held out a glass of water. “Now, I’d wager that being gagged for a long time probably made you thirsty, correct?”

Sophia looked at the glass of water. Having a piece of dry fabric stuck in her mouth did indeed make her incredibly thirsty. She felt a bead of sweat slide down her forehead as she nodded.

“Now, be an obedient little girl and don’t scream when I take off the gag. If you don’t, I’ll give you this glass of water. Agreed?”

Sophia nodded. Her pride would have to wait.

Frederick pulled off the gag, and she let out a wet cough as the lump of fabric slid out of her mouth. He brought up the glass, and she gulped down the water. Unlike the kidnapping itself, she could feel that Frederick had no practice doing anything that required care. All of his movements were awkward and forceful—the signs of a man who had never raised children.

“Why are you doing this, Uncle?” she asked, once she was done drinking. He chuckled in response. “Don’t you see there’s no reason to fight anymore?”

“No reason to fight?” He exhaled loudly.

“You heard that it was all for naught. It all started with a simple misunderstanding…”

“My brother’s death was not a misunderstanding!”

He came so close to her that she could see veins popping in his forehead. She pulled back, but there was no more space for her to retreat to unless she could ram her way through solid wood. Under the dim lantern light, Frederick’s face was monstrous, a twisted mask of anger.

“Uncle…”

“His father murdered my brother , girl! I had to hold his hand and watch the life leave his eyes,” Frederick spat. “Charles might be a weakling who could forget in an instant, but I am not.”

Sophia was now trembling.

There was never going to be any peace, was there?

“I already had to swallow my pride and watch this bastard of a Pratt marry you.” His eyes were two glinting orbs in the low light. “And it’s your fault! ”

“My… My fault?”

“If you had kept your mouth shut, I would have challenged him to a duel, and it all would have been over. I could have had him and had my vengeance, but you had to complicate things!”

“Or he would have killed you. Or Father.” She finally felt the courage to speak up and stand up to him. Only metaphorically, of course, as her legs were still too tightly bound for that. “I was the only one that day who actually made an effort for peace! I was surrounded by foolish lions who wanted to tear each other apart! For nothing! And that was before I knew it was based on nothing! And, excuse me, but I don’t think blood for blood does any good at all!”

Frederick laughed in her face. “Oh, you stupid girl?—”

“My name is Sophia Pratt. And I am the Duchess of Heathcote. And if you don’t untie?—”

The gag was shoved back into her mouth.

Frederick looked at her, unimpressed. “If I don’t untie you? What? What will you do? Hm?” He cupped his hand over his ear, mocking her. “I can’t hear you, girl—you are going to have to speak up.”

She writhed and struggled against her bonds, her screams muffled by the gag.

“Oh, nothing to say? I guess you changed your mind then. Good girl,” he said and patted her cheek like he used to when she was little.

The familial touch infuriated her.

Frederick stood up. “I’m doing you a favor. Bigger than you can even imagine. In half a decade, you’ll be remembering this moment, and you’ll be thanking me. They have fooled you, girl! You really believe all that hogwash you were told—that you supposedly read in a diary you just happened to find in the house of a Pratt? They know they are liars and murderers. And here you are, falling right into their trap, thinking that an eighty-year-old story will just make everything all right.”

Sophia’s throat was hoarse with the futile effort of trying to speak, to scream.

“That you would stand so proudly by his side… that you would wear his name…” Frederick spat on the ground next to himself. “Tricked or not, you are no longer my niece. No niece of mine would believe a Pratt.”

He walked towards the door and paused. “I’ve arranged for a carriage. You will be sent to Scotland, to my cousin’s family. And you will stay there for as long as it’s needed.”

He grabbed the handle and slammed the door shut, leaving Sophia alone once again. Her and the dark, now old friends.