28. Chapter Twenty-eight

Asweltering heat had settled over the seaside resort, and merciless fingers of terror wrapped around Evan's throat and squeezed as he sprinted the short distance from Justine's inn to Yardley Manor. Sweat soaking his body, he charged through the halls and barged into Harrington's study.

His friend's eyes were closed, and his feet were propped on his desk. The bloody man had been unpleasantly aggressive the past few days, and he'd decided to relax at a time like this?

"I told you something was wrong," Evan announced.

Harrington took his time opening his eyes. "Good God, man. I've told you she is always late. She probably didn't like the way her hair looked. We were once two hours late for dinner with the queen because my sister couldn't decide between two frocks." Harrington rolled his eyes. "They were both purple. Looked exactly the same if you ask me."

Evan stomped forward. "She left your aunt's inn almost an hour ago." He should lean across the desk, grab his infuriating friend by the lapel, and shake sense into him.

Harrington's brow furrowed. "An hour ago? Then where in the devil is she?"

"Her driver returned while I was there," Evan explained. "He said someone ran in front of his carriage. When he stopped to avoid him, two men leaped upon him and tossed him into the street."

Harrington's heavy boots hit the floor with a thud. "What the bloody hell?"

Evan's sentiments exactly.

Anna entered the room, wringing her hands. "I am quite worried. The horses are becoming restless, and Katrina still has not shown up." Her gaze slid from her husband to Evan. "Has something happened to her?"

"She is missing," Evan said. "Someone commandeered her carriage on the way here. Whoever did it left Justine's driver in the street with a bloody nose and a black eye."

Anna gasped. "Who would do such a thing?" Her eyes widened as she answered her own question. "Lord Greyson?"

"Yes," Evan and Harrington growled at the same time.

But Greyson wouldn't chance being seen on the main street.

"I am certain he hired the men who have Katrina," Evan said.

Probably the same bootlickers who'd attacked the groundskeepers before the Cricket match.

Anna whimpered. "Where do you think he is taking her?"

Although Evan's stomach roiled, this was no time to be weak. Willing his breakfast to settle, he swallowed bile. "We need to make haste and find her. Are you coming?" he called over his shoulder as he headed toward the door.

Harrington followed Evan into the hallway. "It sounds as though they have an hour lead on us."

All the more reason to hurry.

Anna scurried behind them. "Where do you think he took her?"

Greyson could have taken her anywhere, and when Evan found him, which he would, he'd beat the marquess within inches of life.

Unfortunately, the location that invaded Evan's thoughts was far off. He spun to face the couple.

"I'd whisk her away to Gretna Green."

Harrington's eyes morphed into angry little slits.

The diminutive, sweet Anna squeaked. "Do you think he'd force her to marry him?"

"He took Katrina to Limestone Manor, his mother's country estate," someone behind Evan said.

Evan swung around to face a red-eyed Taylor. It seemed the man had entered the manor without a servant's escort, a forgivable breach of etiquette if he knew Katrina's whereabouts.

"I fear for the lady," Taylor said.

A lethal, volcanic rage erupted with Evan's roar. His eyeballs would pop from their sockets if he did not calm himself.

"That is preposterous. Why would he do such a thing?" Harrington said.

"It has nothing to do with his feelings for Lady Katrina," Taylor said. "Greyson is incapable of affection. His deplorable actions have everything to do with his ego, Katrina's rejections, and the numerous times the two of you humiliated him."

"Who in the hell does he think he is messing with?" Harrington waived his arms wildly. "My brother will cut off his bollocks, and he will do it with His Highness's blessings."

Not if Evan got to Greyson first. He would slice them off and then shove them down the shite-fuck's throat.

"Taylor, you look like hell," Harrington said.

Not that the man's ever-deteriorating appearance mattered at that moment.

"My father passed away early last evening," Taylor said.

Anna gasped. "I am so sorry."

"As am I," Harrington added.

Evan was too young to remember his mother's death, but his father's passing left his heart hollow for months. Despite their dire circumstances, Evan aimed for a sympathetic expression as he met Taylor's gaze. There was something heartbreaking about the man's countenance. Sadness? Defeat? Torment?

Probably torment. He seemed to be experiencing prolonged torture of some sort—probably because Greyson had taken up residency in his summer home.

Still, Evan was wary. "Why are you here?"

Taylor swiped his hand through his disastrous hair. His fingers caught in the knots, and he struggled to free himself. Birds and rats would be hard-pressed to nest in Taylor's unhygienic mess.

"Mostly because I cannot bear to see him hurt women. And I also hate the son of a bitch and his hideous mother. He insisted I show up today and tell you he is headed to London, sending you searching in the wrong direction. By the time you found Katrina, her reputation would be ruined. If he marries the lady, he thinks he will have a hand in the Astleyshire wealth and power. He would also possess the woman Eaton wants." He slid his gaze to Evan. "He truly despises you."

The feeling was mutual.

"Bloody hell," Harrington said.

Evan stared into Taylor's eyes. "I will ask you again. What information does Greyson have on you?"

Taylor stared at his shuffling feet.

"Out with it," Harrington said.

"And be quick about it," Evan said.

After taking an eternity to compose himself, Taylor cleared his throat. "His mother and my father were lovers. We are brothers."

Suddenly, everything made sense—from why Taylor had allowed Greyson to stay in his home, to why the marquess collected information on those around him. The man was piling up insurance in case his secret got out. Not to mention, they looked so similar that Evan had once mistaken Taylor for Greyson.

"I knew not until recently. I find the woman to be hideous, but my father spent a lot of time at the estate when he was their solicitor and found himself enchanted with her. He said she was quite a beauty and made him laugh. He was lonely after my mother's death two years earlier. And—" the man exhaled something akin to a puppy whimper "—he felt the late lord was abusive to his wife. Then, when my father became ill this spring, he told me of his affair with the marchioness. They kept it a secret all these years—from their sons, from my sisters, from the late marquess, and the gossipy ton. For some ungodly reason, my father still felt affection for the marchioness and did not want to ruin her reputation. As if the woman isn't already a notorious talebearer."

"Good God," Harrington said.

"He wanted me to know I had a younger brother before he passed away, but he swore me to secrecy. However, he was not privy to all of Greyson's machinations. Had he known of all of his son's sins…." Taylor blanched. "I have sisters, by God. I know Father would not have approved."

"But that means he is not the rightful Greyson heir," Harrington said. "He is simply a by-blow, the bastard son of his father's solicitor."

"Without his title, he may be culpable for kidnapping the Duke of Astleyshire's sister," Taylor said. "Even if he is not found guilty, his title would go to his cousin." Taylor sighed. "I have broken my word to my father less than twenty-four hours after his death, but I cannot allow my stepbrother's reign of terror to continue."

Steepling his fingers, Taylor looked at the ceiling. "Please forgive me, Father. I want to do the noble thing."

They could finish the conversation on their journey. "We must get to Limestone Manor and stop him before he harms Lady Katrina," Evan said.

"'Tis not far from here," Harrington said. "If we take the carriage, we can be there in thirty-five minutes."

That meant Katrina was already there. Already in danger. Already…

They needed to hurry.

"I must head home," Taylor said. "My grief and the stress of the last two months have taken their toll. At least now I can find peace knowing I did the right thing."

Evan grasped Taylor's elbow and dragged him toward the front door. "Sorry for your loss. It's a damn shame. Hurts like the dickens when a parent passes." He smacked the solicitor on the back, sending him flying onto the porch. "Now get your arse in the carriage. We have a woman to save and a devil to destroy."