Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

D rowned out by the discordant orchestra of wind, rain, and galloping, James vigorously pointed straight ahead, as if to say, There it is!

They must have been riding for at least an hour through the bitter downpour, but finally, the two men had arrived at a small clearing occupied only by a small structure of weather-worn wood at its center.

Thomas slowed his horse down to a stop, at the end of a vague trail that led up to the lodge in question. He turned and nodded to James. And James nodded back.

They had agreed beforehand that they’d have to keep silent. The sound of the rain would help with masking their approach, but they had to remain quiet if they wanted to retain the element of surprise.

They both dismounted, their heavy boots squelching softly against the muddy ground. A bolt of lightning split the sky and turned night into day for a split second, accompanied a moment later by the loud crash of thunder. James took a few steps and pointed towards the side of the lodge where he knew his uncle had set up a small stable.

The moment they saw the two horses, Thomas knew. He clenched his hands into fists.

“Is that her?” James whispered, pointing at Violetta.

Thomas noticed the unmistakable dappling, not to mention the Pratt emblem stamped into the metal joint of the bridle.

“Yes, that’s her,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Come on, Your Grace, we need to head back and inform the constables.” James put a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him.

Thomas turned and looked at him, overflowing with rage. “Absolutely not. It might be too late by the time they get here.”

“Your Grace, this is my uncle’s hunting lodge.”

“So?”

“I am positively certain he has pistols and rifles stashed away. We don’t. If you go in there right now, unarmed?—”

Thomas slunk around the lodge regardless, ignoring his companion. He had no doubt that James was right, but he also knew he couldn’t risk waiting. If this unknown diary had been enough to make the Earl of Lynwood kidnap his niece, there was no telling what else that insane, bloodthirsty monster might do.

Thomas approached the narrow front door and carefully closed his hand over the iron knob, expecting to find resistance, but there was none. The door was unlocked.

He didn’t hesitate, barreling in with no fear for his own safety. A large part of his consciousness was telling him he was probably walking headfirst into a trap, but the part that cared about his wife was a lot louder.

The short entrance hall was empty and quiet. The only thing he could hear was the sound of water droplets dripping down from his coat and onto the wooden floor.

James walked in behind him, shaking water off of him.

The lodge was almost entirely pitch black, with only faint moonlight peeking in through the dusty windows, casting sinister shadows on the walls that seemed to be watching the two men.

James walked catfooted towards a chest of drawers he seemed to recognize and opened it slowly, trying to minimize the screeching noise. Inside were two oil lanterns and a tinderbox. He nodded towards Thomas.

Soon enough, they were both carrying a lantern each, the warmth of the light welcome against the freezing cold. They could now see their breaths manifesting into mist.

Ever slowly, they moved through the small lodge, their breaths held, searching.

Sophia coughed against the gag. She didn’t feel well. The water had seeped through the walls and across the floorboards, she was cramped in there with no way to stand up or stretch, and she felt the threadbare blanket underneath her, wet and uncomfortable.

Despite her incredible fatigue, she hadn’t yet fallen asleep, but she felt her head starting to loll, her neck feeling too weak to hold it up anymore.

I can’t let him win.

She fought to keep her eyes open, almost wanting to laugh at the irony of that thought. She used to think that about Thomas. Antagonize him every step of the way. Do everything he said she couldn’t do. She’d muster every ounce of strength she could find to prove him wrong. Do it out of spite.

I can’t… let ? —

She felt her body slide down the wet surface of the wooden panel behind her and fell on her side with a wet slap. She coughed against the gag, hoping the force might eventually push it out of her mouth.

Her effort was interrupted when she heard footsteps.

It’s him…

But it was more than one set of footsteps.

Oh no… they are already here. They will take me away! I can’t!

She panicked. Her hands and legs were moving frantically as she tried to push and fit her entire body within the opening of her hands, so she could pull her hands forward and work on her bonds. But it was impossible; her arms were not even remotely long enough for something like that.

She stretched and pulled, but she made no progress. Thankfully, the set of footsteps seemed to walk away from her, possibly going upstairs.

She sighed with relief and kept struggling against her bonds. They weren’t going to take her without a fight. She would be ready, no matter what it took.

Thomas and James reached the upper floor, ending up in front of a short hallway that split into two rooms.

James pointed at the room on their left. They both went on either side of the door, and Thomas pushed it open.

The room was empty, with only a single bed inside and a small closet. It looked like an emergency bedroom, in case someone had to spend the night there.

James sighed and turned around when they both heard a slight click.

“Uncle?”

Thomas turned around immediately, and sure enough, there he was. Frederick.

He had hidden himself in the other room and was now pointing a pistol at both of them.

“To what do I owe this untimely visit, James?” Frederick asked as if this was a social call.

“You know very well, Frederick,” Thomas barked.

“I don’t remember asking you, Your Grace.” Frederick punctuated his sentence by pulling back the hammer of his pistol.

They both froze in place.

Now what…

Thomas cast his accomplice a discreet look and hoped that James understood. That pistol only had one bullet in it. If Frederick wasted it on one of them, the other might have a chance of either tackling the wretch to the ground or running to find Sophia, wherever she might be.

James gave a subtle nod. “You know very well why we are here, Uncle.”

“Oh, I know.” Frederick waved the barrel at Thomas. “I know why he is here. But would you care to explain why my own flesh and blood has betrayed me like this?”

“Sophia is also your flesh and blood,” James pointed out. “And you abducted her.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” Frederick snorted. “She’s just a silly, na?ve girl. She’s a wide-eyed, callow, little woman who fell for the first man who gave her the slightest amount of attention.”

“She’s my wife!” Thomas roared, no longer able to hold himself back. “And she’s the Duchess of Heathcote! She earned that title tenfold! Is that how the great Earl talks about his family?”

“I speak the truth, Your Grace, no matter who it pertains to,” Frederick said, venom dripping from his words. “By this time tomorrow, Sophia will be in a safe place, away from everyone here. And you, you…” He lightly shook the pistol, as if wagging a finger, and laughed. “You really thought a simple marriage proposal was going to fix everything?”

Thomas curled his lip. “I made the first step. I had to do something. I almost lost my brother!”

“Well, I did lose my brother!” Frederick shook furiously, spittle flying out of his mouth. “By your father’s hand! Never lost a duel! Never walked away without his opponent lying dead on the ground either! They never mention that part when they talk about him, do they? An unbeatable duelist, that’s what they called him—a murderer! And I am supposed to just let all of that slide? No! Never! ”

Thomas heard the rain drum on the roof. He felt himself again, his consciousness. The pistol was still aimed at him, naturally.

Good.

He was about to take a gamble, and he didn’t want James to be in danger. Unlike him, James was completely innocent.

And Sophia wouldn’t forgive me. Even in death.

He took one step to the right, the pistol still aimed at him.

“Frederick … I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You are sorry? What am I supposed to do with your sorry? Put it on my brother’s tombstone?” Frederick asked and laughed again. It was a bitter, harsh laugh. The laugh of an angry and pitiful man.

Thomas felt the world come to a standstill. He turned and looked at James one more time. He blinked and turned back to Frederick. “I’m not apologizing about your brother.”

He tossed the lantern up with all his might, up and high against the house’s roof, and threw himself forward. A duel without ceremony, and the last that would ever take place between a Pratt and a Kendall. Thomas was certain of that, for even if he lost, even if it cost him his life, Frederick would not escape justice. And James would step in to finish what Thomas and Sophia had started. By standing at Thomas’s side, James had proven that.

Forgive me, Sophia. Forgive me.