Page 98 of A Figure of Love

“Go to sleep, mignon. You can do no good in your condition.”

“But—” Her mouth was thick and full of cotton wadding. “What?”

“A little milk of the poppy. Sleep.”

She wanted to yell at her, but dozens of small hands clutched at her body and pulled her down, down, down . . ..

∞∞∞

Gareth and Declan each held items of Oliver’s clothing the Frenchwoman said he’d worn lately. The dogs followed Oliver everywhere now that they lived in the house. The only time he put them in the barn was when he had something to do and they could not go. There had been one or two accidents in the house and Serena had told him they must stay in their stall when he was not with them.

The dogs began whining and snuffling even before Gareth opened the stall door. They had been trained not to jump, but they were rambunctious and restless, waiting for permission to leave their stall.

Gareth squatted down in the clean straw and held out the cloth cap. The dogs went wild, leaping and sniffing and making sounds he could only assume indicated dog happiness.

“They certainly know his scent.”

They took two lanterns in case they had to split up for some reason, but only lit one, and that one with its shutter lowered almost all the way and allowing a narrow circle of light that barely lighted the ground two steps ahead of them. They clipped leads to two of the hounds and turned the rest free.

The only sounds as they left the stables were the snuffling of snouts and stridulating of thousands of nighttime insects. They had both dressed in dark clothing and darkened any visible skin with ashes. Gareth hardly see his own hand.

The dogs ahead were invisible, but they stayed close enough to hear. The two they kept on leads pulled in the same direction, down toward the river.

Gareth briefly thought of the mine Oliver had led him to that day and could only be grateful he had sent workers to close the opening, especially as the dogs seemed to head in that direction.

They stumbled and cursed quietly behind them, Gareth’s heart growing heavier as the dogs led them almost directly toward the mine. But, suddenly, the two dogs on leads stopped and Gareth heard a distinct snarl and snap among the dogs ahead.

“What is it?” Declan whispered.

Gareth had no idea. This was the first time he had been with the dogs—or any dog, really—without Oliver’s company. He knew his friend suffered from the same lack of canine experience. The place where they had grown up had no dogs—they were just another mouth to feed.

The dogs’ growling became louder and almost savage sounding.

“Jesus!” Dec whispered, “if there is anyone out here they will certainly hear this. Can’t you make them be quiet? What the hell is going on?”

Gareth realized his dog had begun to strain toward the river and the old mine. Dec’s dog was pulling in the opposite direction.

He gave a soft snort. “They are having a dog argument. Look at them, Dec.”

A moment of silence and then, “By God, you’re right. What the devil do we do now?”

“We split. We’ve both got pistols and lanterns. It’s obvious something happened here, enough to make the dogs think he went in two directions. The boy knows this area like the back of his hand. Perhaps he escaped Bardot and ran away? I don’t know, but we split.” He knelt on the grass to light his lantern.

“Do you think we will be able to split them?” Declan asked, crouching down beside him, his eyes barely a glitter in the low light.

“They seem to want to. Besides, Oliver has trained them to obey.” He shuttered both lamps until they set out. “Do you think you are familiar enough with the layout of the property to find your way back to the house, Dec?”

“Yes, I’ve gone out every day while you’ve been gone and the boy took me down past the lake to where he found an old gamekeeper’s shack. In fact, it occurs to me that might be the direction the dogs want to head. He spent a good deal of time there and even had a spirit lamp and made tea for us. There were several other items of his there and he told me he often takes naps and reads there. Possibly Bardot knew about it.”

Gareth chewed his lip. He knew of the shack, of course. “Perhaps I should go with you?”

“I think we should follow both trails.” He hesitated. “Do you think the dogs will start baying and making a racket if they catch scent of him?”

Gareth lifted the shutter on his lamp a hair and snapped his fingers and all nine dogs converged on them. “Sit,” he hissed, pleased and surprised when they did just that. Eighteen canine eyes looked back at him. He could have sworn they knew this was not a game.

“Track now,” he said, his voice a little louder. Of course the dogs made no comment, but he thought their bodies tightened in anticipation.

“Oliver took them hunting hares and used this command. I can only hope it will work to track their master.” He dug his watch from his pocket. “It is seven minutes after ten o’clock. I think we should agree to meet back at the stables at a certain time, no matter what we are doing or what we have found.”