Page 118 of A Baby to Seal the Duke’s Fate

Mrs. Pritchard’s silence was enough to unsettle him.

“I do not believe so.”

Leopold took it and opened it quickly, almost tearing the address off the envelope as he did so. His heart threatened to choke him as he read.

The woman and child who were removed from your estate are being held in a house outside Alton.

They are alive. For now.

If you wish to see them returned safely, payment must be made to the address on this letter.

Do not involve the magistrate or any other authority. Any attempt to do so will place the woman and child in greater danger.

The lady who arranged for their removal from your estate promised payment for the work and has failed to fulfill her agreement. We have no reason to guarantee the woman’s and the child’s safety now.

You will therefore understand that this matter must be settled by you.

Bring two thousand pounds to the address. Come alone. Do not attempt to attack us and rescue the woman and child without paying. You will be shot.

The woman and child will remain where they are until payment is made. If we receive no written agreement or payment within four days, and if we do not dispose of them, they may starve to death.

You have every reason to believe that we are serious.

Leopold stared at the paper, trying to process everything it said. But the important parts were very clear: Honora and Cecily were being held captive. And Isolde was the reason why.

“Barnaby,” Leopold said unsteadily.

Barnaby took the letter before Leopold could say more, and he read it in half the time. He cursed under his breath, slamming the letter on the desk.

“We leave immediately,” he said.

Leopold nodded numbly. The guilt threatened to keep him rooted to his chair. If he had allowed Honora to explain, if he had not sent them away, they would not be in danger. But because he had been stubborn in his anger and blind in his hurt, they could die. And suddenly, the thought of losing them was too much to bear.

I love them, he thought, trembling. I cannot lose them now.

Wilfred’s interruption was enough to return him to his senses. He looked at the butler, rising from his seat.

“Yes?” he asked curtly.

“There is a gentleman at the front door.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Bellamy.”

Leopold’s head lifted so quickly his neck popped. “Gideon Bellamy?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Leopold stood. “Bring him in at once.”

Wilfred left. Barnaby glanced at him, his eyebrows raised.

“What is he doing here?” he asked.

Leopold shook his head. He did not have an answer. He barely had any words at all.

A moment later, the front door opened, footsteps crossed the hall, and Mr. Bellamy appeared in the study doorway. Leopold had never seen a man with an expression so lost and sickly, yet kept alert by panic and guilt. His hair was gray at the temples, his face pale, his coat looking as though he had lost ten pounds since he put it on, and his hand shook around the paper he carried.