Chapter 30

CHAPTER30

“Do not disappoint me, Duncan,” Silas rasped, as he shone his lantern down upon the dusty road.

Duncan, who had dismounted, and was stalking up and down the hedgerows with a lantern of his own, shot a look back at his friend. “I told ye to be quiet. Daenae ask me why, but it’s harder to track when there’s someone twitterin’ in yer ear the entire time!”

“You were never a gamekeeper at all, were you? Indeed, I am becoming more certain that you have not the faintest notion of what you are doing,” Silas muttered, his blood crackling in his veins.

He had been short with Duncan ever since they departed Hudson Manor, and though he knew he should not take his frustration out upon his friend, it was easier than dwelling on what might have befallen Emma. He would not allow himself to consider the worst. He refused.

Duncan swore at him. “I ken ye’re uneasy and in a foul temper, Silas, but if ye speak to me like that again, I’ll find her on me own and I willnae tell ye when I do. I’ll make ye stew for causin’ me bother.”

“Sorry,” Silas growled. “Have you found anything yet?”

“Nae since the last time ye asked,” Duncan shot back, prowling the hedgerows once more.

It would have been simpler if the Earl of Lambert had been with them, but in his condition, Silas had insisted on him staying behind. The older man had, of course, protested but Augusta and Eliza had pinned him down under the guise of tending to him, giving Silas and Duncan time to get away.

“He said it was just past the way-marker for Scorley,” Silas said unhelpfully.

Duncan gestured to the lump of white stone that sat a short distance behind them. “I ken. That’s why I’m lookin’ here. I mean, ye could get down from yer horse and help me search, instead of sittin’ up on yer high horse, if ye truly wanted to be of use to me.”

“There!” Silas barked wildly, jumping down from the saddle.

He ran toward something glinting in the glow of his lantern light, tucked halfway under a dock leaf. Had it not been for his high position and the lantern’s shine, he doubted anyone would have seen it.

“What is it?” Duncan asked, hurrying to join him.

Silas picked up the sparkling object, turning it over in his hand. His heart cracked as he ran a thumb across the tiny diamonds of the delicate necklace, brushing away some of the dust that had gathered.

“I gave this to her at our engagement party, after I stole her away to my study for a while,” he said thickly. “I had hoped she would wear it to our wedding. She… must have decided to.”

Duncan’s eyes flitted up the night-shadowed road. “If I ken that lass, she dropped it on purpose. Other lasses would’ve clung on to fine jewels like those, even if it cost them dearly, but nae her.” He smiled grimly. “We are headed in the right direction, Silas. I see carriage wheel tracks and hoofprints—one set fresher than the rest.”

“Then why are you still talking to me and not getting back in your saddle?” Silas remarked, his heart pounding.

Duncan rolled his eyes. “Ye’re insufferable, but I’ll forgive ye this time.”

“I am grateful,” Silas said as he clambered back up into Ajax’s saddle. “Ensure you have your pistols drawn. They could be anywhere, and I do not want the wretch who has done this to have a single hope of getting away.”

Duncan hesitated. “Do you think it is the same man?”

“My captor?”

Duncan nodded.

It was something they had not spoken about during their ride to the way-marker, but evidently Duncan had been thinking the same thing as Silas. The timing and the target were too coincidental to be anything but revenge, exacted just when Silas had found happiness. And what better punishment could there have been for him thwarting his kidnapper’s plans, than his kidnapper thwarting his plans?

Silas swallowed past the lump in his throat. “If it is, I am only sorry that I will not be able to kill them twice.”

* * *

“Why would you do this?” Emma whispered, her voice tight with fear. “You have been so… nice to me, for weeks. Tell me this is some twisted jest, for I can think of no other reason why you would do this. I have done nothing to you.”

Her captor blew a smoke ring, smirking. “It is not about you, Lady Emma. You are merely the means to an end.”

“Then, I ask you again, why are you doing this?” Emma clasped a hand to her chest, her heart beating frantically beneath. “Is it to hurt Silas?”

He rolled his eyes. “For someone who has shown herself to be rather intelligent, you are being exceptionally dim. I do not want to hurt him; I want to destroy him.” He sucked in another mouthful of that wretched, acrid smoke and puffed it out. “But, believe me, what I have planned is a mercy compared to my previous intentions. I could have killed him while I had him trapped in Scotland, but I did not.”

“That was… you?” Emma choked. “But you are his brother! Why? My goodness, why?”

Luke sneered at the question. “I did him a kindness by sparing his bastard life, and I doubt I would have intervened again if he had not met you.” He chuckled darkly. “So, perhaps this is about you. You are certainly to blame.”

“What?” Emma stared in disbelief at the golden son of the Hudson dynasty, wondering how she could have ever thought him handsome. Beneath his fair hair, excellent features, and sparkling eyes, an ugliness lurked, bone deep.

“When he escaped the charming little prison I created for him, he returned a very different man,” Luke explained, the end of his cigar glowing red every time he inhaled, like a monstrous eye. “I was pleased that my efforts had not been in vain, and that I gained a very desirable effect without having to get blood on my hands.”

Emma shook her head. “I do not understand.”

“He no longer dabbled in old, vile habits.” Luke turned his nose up. “He loathed society events. Feared them, even. He had no desire to marry whatsoever, despite our mother pestering him. And I thought that, yes, I might have to be even more patient to receive my dues, but even if I never got to be duke, my sons would.”

Emma felt sick, as realization dawned. “All of this wickedness, simply because you were born a second son? That might be the most pathetic form of jealousy I have ever heard of. It is hardly his fault that he was born first.”

“There you go, being stupid again,” Luke snarled, that cheery, pleasant façade letting some of the monster through, at last. “He is no son of my father’s, and I refuse to let him sully my father’s bloodline—my bloodline—with his bastard children. You forced me to do this, Lady Emma. Honestly, the shamelessness of you! After the unseemly things you have been getting up to with Silas, I knew it was only a matter of time before unworthy offspring were running around, stealing what is mine.”

Emma faltered, barely hearing his remarks about her glorious nights with Silas. “We have not- Wait…What do you mean, Silas is no son of your father’s?”

“There is no nuance, Lady Emma,” Luke spat. “It means precisely what it means.”

She held his infernal gaze, utterly bewildered. It must have shown on her face because he growled in frustration, sounding more like Silas than he ever had, and began to pace as though he could not stand to be still in the wake of her ignorance.

“My father is not his father,” Luke hissed. “I do not know how I can say it in simpler terms. I overheard the old steward speak of it with my own harlot of a mother, as if it were not the most heinous of crimes. They did not know I was there, of course, and I have been waiting to exact my justice ever since. I am certain my father knew when Silas grew older, but I never had the chance to ask him.”

Emma’s eyes hardened. “I must applaud you for your excellent performance. Anyone would think you adored your mother and brother. The nice, golden son act is rather compelling. When you fail at this, you really must begin a vocation in theater—you would be the thespian of the century.”

“Fail?” Luke laughed. “My dear, there will be no failure. Not that you should worry yourself over whether I succeed or not, for you will not be here to witness it, either way.”

A dagger of ice twisted in Emma’s heart. “You mean to kill me?”

“If you are very well behaved, I will simply let you live out your existence at my keep in Scotland. I shall even put you in the same cell where Silas lived for a year, so you can feel closer to him in your permanent separation,” Luke replied, grinning smugly. “He will not recover from you jilting him, Lady Emma. I will never have to concern myself with him marrying or siring children again.”

Emma grasped for the threads of her courage, pulling herself up as she hissed, “Well, you will have to kill me, because if you think I will not try to escape and find my way back to Silas at every turn, every opportunity, every waking moment, you are sorely mistaken. You have kidnapped the wrong woman. I shall be a thorn in your side that you will never be rid of.”

“As you wish,” Luke said, dropping his cigar and crushing it with his boot. From his belt, he drew a long, curved blade, and began to approach.

She should have stayed quiet, but she had never been very good at that.