Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The trip to London was easily the longest and most stressful carriage ride of her entire life.

She had to hope and pray that since it had only been a few hours now since the attack that they would have some manner of luck. Worry was going to consume her entirely. There was no way to know which route Cassian might have taken his cousin on, or what his plan was going to be once he had finished with his abduction.

Could he truly be so foolish as to think that he could ransom the duke to get the inheritance that he was not owed? Did he think that Weston was the sort of man to be easily frightened? She could not imagine anyone being so foolish.

Every few moments, William poked his head out of the side of the carriage, scanning the darkness around them as if he would somehow be able to find a clue as to whether or not they had come this way. He kept straining to hear anything beyond the horses’ galloping hooves and the sounds of the carriage.

Kitty held Lydia’s hand tightly. It was her only present anchor to her sanity. She did not know what she was going to do if they arrived and found Weston was injured. She tried to settle herself and to keep her breathing even.

She did not mean to push her stress and anxiety onto those around her, but she had never felt like this before. This level of worry was overwhelming, and she felt so close to hysterics that in another circumstance, she would be ashamed of herself.

She hated to admit it, but Cassian seemed to have planned this encounter well. He would have taken enough time to cover his tracks, all things considered. If he were traveling with a kidnapped duke, it was not like Weston was going to make things easy on him.

If he planned to do something rash like…, she hated to think that he was capable of murdering his own cousin, but he must be a truly sick individual if he was capable of kidnapping anyone in the first place.

Greed made people do truly insane things.

Cassian might even be guilty of treason. Perhaps she ought to have brought the constable along after all. Though, there was no doubt in her mind whatsoever that he was likely very close behind them.

“Breathe, sister, he will be all right.” Kitty soothed, speaking in soft tones.

“What if we are too late?” Lydia asked, staring blankly ahead of herself.

“We must not think that way. While this situation is truly terrible, we must believe that things are going to work out. His Grace is a very capable man. Do not underestimate him. Have faith.” Kitty reassured her and tapped the back of her hand comfortingly.

Lydia nodded, even though the tightness in her chest was making it hard to breathe properly. Weston would be all right because there was simply no other alternative.

She had not even been given proper time to sort out her feelings toward him. It was so much more than the lust that she had allowed herself to dwell on for so many years. Getting to know him… expecting him to be around… had turned into something else. Something that she had wanted to pursue and at least give things a chance between them. Even if it would not work in the long run, she knew the depth of her feelings was enough to frighten her.

No matter what her feelings for him were, she wished to have the time to figure it all out—and she wished to do it with Weston at her side.

When they finally arrived in London, the trio were exhausted and dirty.

The very last place that she wished to be while feeling as worked up as she presently did, was her father’s home. But what choice did they truly have? They needed somewhere to shelter for the night and to plan their next move. As loathe as she was to admit it, her father did have a rather good sense for these things.

Despite his incredibly rigid ideas on gender roles and society, he was also the sort of man who paid great attention to the gossip of the ton and those who come in and out of London. Lydia had to hope against hope that if something had happened, he would have heard something about it at the very least.

As they caught him up to speed, her father had sat across the table as William filled him in on everything, with a blank, pensive stare. Of course, he had insisted on William being the one to tell him what was happening, he had remarked very plainly that he had no desire to have the facts polluted by the theatrics of women and their dramatic emotions.

The worry that had been consuming her was rapidly turning into fury.

Lydia sat, her knee bouncing in agitation and stress as she listened to William explain their circumstances as patiently as possible to her father. She waited, as respectfully as she could for her father to speak.

Though, her patience for his sexism was wearing painfully thin.

Had she not been the one out with the constable all day? She had been the one interviewing every lead and out there on the road searching for clues even when she had no idea what she was looking for. She knew that she could not sit idly by.

Father would not address her directly, would not even so much as look at her nor Kitty.

He likely had plenty to say on the fact that the pair of them had arrived frantically in the middle of the night with a man whom he had not personally vetted and approved.

“You should have written to me the moment that this unsavory character came into your life, Lydia. You should have known that you are not at all equipped to handle such a thing on your own. You ought to have gotten myself or Lord Baxter here involved from the beginning,” her father started.

Lydia knew that this would only result in a larger lecture. Her whole life had been comprised of lectures like this at the expense of her sanity and her dignity. It mattered not what she did or how she lived her life, it would always displease him in some fashion or another. No woman could ever be good enough for him. It was his life’s greatest lament that he was cursed with daughters instead of sons.

William leaned over and whispered something to Kitty, which also seemed to displease father. He cleared his throat loudly, as if commanding them to separate to a respectable distance from one another.

Before father had a chance to comment on it, however, William took back control of the conversation once more. “I believe that Cassian would try to take His Grace somewhere that is private. He would not wish to be interrupted in whatever it is that his plans are. Do you know of a place that would fit those needs?”

It had been hours yet and she still felt as if she were the only one who was beside herself with worry. She could not sit still. A cold sweat of dread seemed to be constantly trickling down her spine. Every moment that passed was a moment that Weston was likely dead. London had never felt quite so vast as it did now that she was attempting to locate a needle in a haystack.

Lydia was never able to summon the sort of patience that Lord Baxter was showing her father. Perhaps that was why they butted heads so very often. Never mind that she had done everything that he had ever asked of her. The lingering resentment was there. She wished to find Weston, and quickly. Her father could lecture them all afterward if he was so moved to.

“Somewhere perhaps with little to no staff?” William continued, hoping to refocus the conversation to the task at hand.

Lydia’s father lingered his gaze upon her for a long moment, and she said nothing. Fighting with him would only ensure that she did not get his assistance, and they needed it.

“This Cassian fellow is a cousin of your late husband’s, as well as the duke’s, is he not?” her father asked.

Lydia nodded. “Yes, sir.”

His eye twitched. “Does he have a hunting lodge that would not need to be maintained? Perhaps another property or apartment here in the city? Not that the pair of you ever deign to come and visit me. Not even my unwed youngest daughter can be bothered to spend time with her father.”

She chose not to focus on those comments. She could not afford to rise to the bait that he was thrusting in her direction.

Kitty placed a hand on her thigh, tapping softly. “The earl did not care much for hunting, is that right, sister?”

Lydia nodded again. “No, he did not—but he did have a small home here in London. I cannot recall the last time that either of us had reason to visit. It was far too small for his liking, and we simply never got around to furnishing it properly for residence.”

As soon as she had finished speaking about the home, the dots connected.

“Oh, oh!” Lydia pushed away from the table. “Naturally, the duke would have inherited that as well… the deeds and keys, all of it. If Cassian somehow saw the papers… there is a very good chance that he could be there!”

“I would presume, given all of his fuss, that he has more than just glimpsed the papers detailing the duke’s inheritance.” William added, his anger seeping into his tone. “Quickly, let us go and retrieve our dear duke.”

Lydia nodded, gathering her skirts in her hands and shaking off any lingering tiredness that was plaguing her. There would be time to rest later. She did not care how much her legs ached or how heavy her eyes became, she was bound and determined to follow this lead. Weston’s very life could be depending on them finding him in time!

“The carriage is still out front.” Lydia exclaimed, leading the group of them out the front door. “Kitty, take father and go to the Bow Street Runners, tell them where we are going. I have a sinking feeling that we will need their assistance! Hurry!”

Kitty opened her mouth to protest, no likely unhappy to be left behind in the first place, but there was no stopping Lydia. Even William had to run to catch her carriage before it sped off.

She could think of nothing and nobody but Weston, and hope that he was all right.