from the house. I want to know if anyone saw her this evening, saw anything untoward.”
“Yes, sir.” The butler bowed and left to attend to the task.
“Let’s examine the facts,” D’Angelo said. He was always calm and composed when dealing with other people’s problems, more a wild, bloodthirsty predator when dealing with his own. “What reason would anyone have for kidnapping Miss Hart? It cannot be another love interest for the woman is a wallflower.”
“She is not a wallflower.”
“You told Cole she was a wallflower and a pest.”
Evan huffed. “That was before I knew her.”
“So, she may have another suitor.”
“No! This isn’t helping.”
D’Angelo began pacing, for he always thought best when walking. “Let’s assume Charles wasn’t the only person following you. Someone else came for the treasure, perhaps expecting to find a chest full of gold. So why burden themselves with a hostage?”
Evan tried to focus through the mental chaos. “No one entered the house. There are too many rooms, too many servants. Attempting to locate the chest would have posed a risk of discovery.”
“Then the answer is obvious.” D’Angelo stopped pacing. “Mrs McCready stole the chest and somehow persuaded Miss Hart to leave.” D’Angelo paused. “Or it happened the other way around.”
“You know damn well Vivienne has not left of her own accord.” Evan’s faith in her was steadfast. “Mrs McCready has taken her, but they won’t get far on foot.”
Buchanan returned, quickly followed by the butler and a footman.
“James has something important to tell you, sir. He saw Miss Hart with her companion over an hour ago.”
“Describe exactly what happened. Leave nothing out.”
The footman nodded. “I passed them near the kitchen, sir. The lady’s companion said her mistress was unwell and they were taking a turn about the garden.”
“Did you not think it odd?” Evan couldn’t hide his frustration.
“The lady looked unwell, sir. Her companion said she was likely to cast up her accounts and so I left them to their walk.” James’ face twisted in panic. “Sir, I mentioned it to Flora, and she agreed to check on Miss Hart when the lady came back from her walk.”
Evan assured the footman it was not his fault and dismissed the servants. He turned to Buchanan, “Miss Hart is an excellent judge of character. Why would she speak of Mrs McCready’s loyalty when the woman is a cunning devil?”
“Och, Mrs McCready is a nag, but she loves the lass. Whatever’s going on here, she means her nae harm. And she wouldna want the laird to think she betrayed his kinsfolk.”
“Then why take the chest?”
Silence ensued.
They all stared absently, their minds engaged in finding a motive for the woman’s despicable actions.
D’Angelo spoke first. “When Miss Hart brought the contract to you, she desired two things. That you find the intruder who broke into her home, find the treasure and share the bounty. Perhaps Mrs McCready believes Lucian Hart’s granddaughter deserves to keep the reward.”
“Vivienne doesn’t care about money.” She cared about honesty, about finding the truth. She craved love, not jewels. “Her main reason for solving the clues was so she could sleep soundly at night.”
He’d never sleep soundly again if anything happened to her. He would be an empty shell like his father. It was too late to save himself from the crippling heartache, too late to stop the wave of grief.
“Bloody hell!” He punched the air. “I need to do something, damn it! We’re wasting time.”
“Be patient,” D’Angelo said. “There’s no point darting to town when they might have gone in the opposite direction.”
“Mrs McCready would head for the Highlands.”
“They’ve no money, no transport.”
The sudden knock on the drawing room door brought Evan’s agitated butler. “Sir! Sir!” The ageing man tried to walk gracefully with his salver but could not contain his excitement. “We have news, sir. A groom from a coaching inn near Tempsford has come with a note.”
Tempsford? That was 5 miles north.
They could not have made it that far on foot.
Evan took the note and peeled back the folds with shaking fingers. Panic turned to relief the moment he laid eyes on the name scrawled at the bottom of the page.
“Well?” D’Angelo said impatiently.
Evan took a second to catch his breath. “It’s from Ashwood. He received information the countess was leaving London and had a mind to follow her. It seems Mrs McCready and Vivienne are heading north in the matron’s carriage. He thinks they’ll head west once they reach Huntingdon, head for Liverpool.”
Excitement flashed in D’Angelo’s dark eyes. “No horse can match Arion’s speed