Page 62 of Ella’s Desire

“Lady Ella, will you join me in the solar?” Bronson dug deep into his courtier’s charms and bowed low to her. “I believe there is much to discuss.” He straightened and offered her his arm.

Ella accepted his proffered arm. “Aye, there is.”

Then, without a backward glance at Peter, she allowed Bronson to take her from the stables. The tension in his shoulders began to ebb. He need only talk to Ella, to explain how his father had been. Even as he thought of such a discussion, he cringed with self-disgust. For how could he confess that he had enjoyed life as Lark and Brigid had suffered? How could he offer such an ugly truth, to pull away his mask and let her see how he had once been? After a lifetime of keeping his secrets guarded, it was hard to imagine them so bared.

“It is not as it appears,” Bronson said under his breath. It was all he could bring himself to say until they were alone, but it would have to be enough. For now.

Rafe appeared in the castle entrance and raced in their direction.

“My lord.” Rafe offered a sloppy bow in his haste. “You must come quickly.”

Bronson opened his mouth to decline when Rafe spoke over him, “And Lady Ella as well.” The servant’s chest rose and fell with the frenzy of his breath. Clearly the lad had been running about in his search for them.

“Surely this can wait,” Bronson began.

“Forgive me, my lord, but it cannot.” Rafe clamped his hands in front of his waist as he often did when overly concerned with a bit of news he intended to share. “Lady Lark and Lady Leila have gone missing.”

Ella got the ride she had been wanting, only under circumstances that left her bereft. She and Bronson rode alongside one another, alternating between calling for Lark and Leila.

Everyone at the castle had scattered through the surrounding land, seeking out the girls. No soldiers had seen them depart, and yet they were not within the castle. It had been impossible to discern what had happened to them. At least until Ella’s father had thought to look at the box in Cat and Leila’s room, which held the key to the secret exit at the rear of the castle. He’d found it empty.

Lark and Leila were somewhere outside of the castle. Alone. With only Hardy to protect them. Chills chased up Ella’s spine.

When she had intended to ride earlier, the prospect of being alone outside the castle walls with marauders nearby had not seemed dangerous. But two young women on their own turned the idea into one of certain death.

“Lark,” Ella cried into the wind. “Leila!” Her throat was raw, and her heart stung with each unanswered cry.

“Why would they leave the castle?” Bronson growled in his frustration.

“Do you truly have to ask?” Ella encouraged Kipper over a hill and toward a heavily wooded area that might provide the perfect shelter for two girls to hide within.

Bronson stared into the distance, his expression hard. “Mayhap I was too hard on her.”

Ella said nothing as she peered through the dense foliage.

“Mayhap my expectations were too harsh,” he continued.

Something moved in the depth of the brush. Ella’s heart stopped. She put up a hand to silence Bronson.

He sighed. “Aye, I know you already knew as much, but—”

Ella put her finger to her lips to shush him. She slid from Kipper’s back and pulled her battle axe free of its holster on the saddle. Bronson joined at her side with his sword drawn.

A twig snapped, followed by a distinctive rustling in the bushes. Ella jerked her head in the direction and Bronson nodded. Together they made their way to the sound, weapons drawn and ready.

Ella’s heart thundered in her chest even as her feet were silent. Step by careful, quiet step they made their way to the bushes. A soft whimper sounded within.

A gray whip of a tail poked from the leaves and lashed back and forth.

“Hardy.” Bronson dropped to the ground and shoved aside the branches. “He’s been tied up here.” His fingers worked at a loop of blue ribbon attached from the dog’s collar to the strong base of the bush. “These are the ribbons Lark wore in her hair.”

No sooner had the knot slipped free, Hardy bounded out of captivity in a single leap that nearly dropped Ella to the wet forest floor.

“Why would they have tied him up?” Bronson straightened to his feet.

Ella reached a hand down to stroke Hardy’s fur to calm the poor, frantic dog. Her fingers caught something cold and hard. She shushed him quietly and reached for the collar once more. Carefully, she dislodged the item, on yet another blue ribbon.

A key.