Page 99 of A Figure of Love

“Agreed.”

Gareth mentally made the journey to the game shack and back to the house on foot and added some extra time for a little exploration and perhaps some false trails. “Two hours. We should meet back at the stables at seven minutes past midnight.”

Dec chuckled.

“What is so funny?”

A hand landed on his shoulder and gave a squeeze. “Nothing. See you back at the stables at seven minutes past midnight.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Serena woke up to a pounding head and mouth full of cotton.

Nounou sat beside the bed, mending some item of Oliver’s clothing.

Serena’s body sat up without any command from her brain. “Oliver!” The word came out a raspy whisper.

Nounou lowered her mending. “I hope you’re not going to behave like a fool and begin running about achieving nothing.”

Serena felt as though she’d been slapped in the face. She opened her mouth, prepared to deliver the set-down of a lifetime, but the older woman was not done.

“I suppose you believe fainting from exhaustion will somehow help find your son.”

She met Nounou’s dark brown gaze, her black slashes of eyebrows drawn down into a ‘V.’ And she shut her mouth.

“Bon. Now eat.” She gestured to the bedside table, where a tray of bread, butter, and jam sat waiting, also a pot still puffing a little steam: chocolate.

While Serena tucked into the tray Nounou told her what had happened in the five hours she’d slept.

“There are eyes watching everywhere if anyone should come near. Somebody will leave at first light to collect the money.” She shrugged, her eyes once again on her mending. Although she gave the impression of calm, Serena saw how the muscles in her neck were standing out, her shoulders bowed with tension. “I do not know who will go fetch that. Right now,” she glanced up and gave her a direct look. “Mr. Lockheart and the other one have taken the dogs to see if they can find Oliver’s scent.”

Serena looked at the window, but the drapes had been pulled. “Can they see tonight?” She had been locked in a hole for a week and had no recollection of whether there was a moon or not.

“Not very well. They took lanterns but cut them to barely a glow.” She grinned up at Serena suddenly. “It reminded me of my childhood in Marseilles, with the contrebandiers.”

Serena supposed she should be surprised the rather staid older woman had once engaged in smuggling, but people were never just what they seemed.

“How long have they been gone?”

Nounou glanced at the clock on the mantle, it was half-past midnight. “It must be well over two hours now.”

Serena drained the rest of her chocolate and set aside the tray, expecting Nounou to stop her when she got out of bed. Instead, the other woman nodded to the foot of the bed, where laid out were a long-sleeved, dark green dress, fresh stockings, her dark blue pelisse, and her scuffed leather ankle boots—all clothes she wore to work.

“You might as well dress to be useful, if the time comes.”

∞∞∞

Gareth heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the entrance to the mine was still blocked with tightly packed stone. But his relief didn’t last long when the dogs kept scenting a trail north, beyond the area he had explored with Oliver that day.

They led him around the stone face that held the old mine entrance, the going rough over an outcropping of rocks that must run east until they intersected the river. As he tried to find an area that was not so steep, he encountered a section of rock that seemed to have been hewn down to make a narrow pass, the dogs shot through it like water down a spout. Gareth followed more slowly, needing to carry the lantern directly in front of his body to fit through the narrow cut out.

There was an unexpected drop-off and he almost smashed the lantern on the rock as he skidded down some loose stones and landed with a hard thump on his arse. He paused for a moment to listen. There were no dogs nearby, nothing but insects.

“To me,” he ordered in a low voice. Nothing.

When Gareth tried to stand, he realized the ground was still uneven. He had no choice but to shed more light. He lifted the shutter only a fraction of an inch but enough to see a few feet ahead. A drop of at least four feet and then what looked to be the other side of the stone face with trees growing snug up to the rocks. No sign of dogs.

He edged his way down the hillside in a shower of pebbles and dirt. When he reached the bottom he found trees growing close and hugging the rocky protrusion. A rough path had been hacked through the brambles where they met the trees and Gareth’s breathing quickened.