I am hunting him, she thought in surprise. Is he the one I want to marry and live with happily ever after? Was George simply a wrong turn in my journey? Whatever the answer, this husband hunting no longer feels like a game; it is deadly serious. A matter of life lived to the full with the man I love, or a lifetime of regrets.
Love? Marissa was dizzy. Was it true, did she really love him? Her practical side cast doubt upon her emotional response, until she felt as if there was a battle going on inside her. But there was no time to sit down and properly consider her situation. A moment later they set off, galloping into the night, heading for Canthorpe, and she knew she must put her own feelings aside and concentrate on the here and now.
“Do you think Baron Von Hautt followed you?” George called out, as the horses spread out along the narrow road. “Or is his spy supplying him with our information?”
“I hope he’s not following us,” Marissa said, glancing behind her. She might boast she wasn’t afraid of the baron but that didn’t mean she was keen to come face-to-face with him in the dark.
For the first time she began to have an uncomfortable feeling about this whole business. She’d been dismissing Lady Longhurst as a manipulative creature, but what if she was being unfair? What if she was wrong? Von Hautt was a dangerous man who had shown himself capable of any mischief, and for some reason he had a grudge against Valentine.
“What I don’t understand is, where could he be living? He must be nearby. Surely someone has seen him?” George had brought his horse up beside her, calling across her to his brother on her other side.
“I’ve made inquiries about the village.” Valentine began to catalogue his efforts to find the baron in a grim voice. “I’ve sent men out to scour the woods and the countryside for miles. But I always get the same answer—no one has seen him. I’m starting to wonder if he’s a ghost and can appear and disappear at will.”
“Not a ghost,” George said. “A magician, a trickster, that’s what Von Hautt is.”
A short time later they saw the village below them, and then shortly after that, Canthorpe, the entire house ablaze with light. Several servants could be seen in the formal garden, either guarding the house or searching the grounds, or both. Valentine’s group was allowed past after one of the servants held a lantern up to his face.
“I’m sorry, m’lord,” he apologized.
“Is Lady Longhurst inside?”
“Yes, she is.”
“My men are here to help in any way they can.”
“Thank you, m’lord. I’ll set them to searching the wilderness.”
Valentine sprang down from the saddle, followed by George and Marissa, and hurried inside.
The maid Marissa remembered from their visit yesterday came flying across the hall, her cap askew, spirals of hair tumbling from beneath it and into her eyes. When she saw who they were she seemed to fold in on herself with relief. “Oh, my lord,” she cried, eyes big and frightened. “Thank heavens you’ve come. This way. My lady is in the small saloon.”
She showed them the way, glancing behind her all the while, as if worried she might lose them even over such a short distance.
“Lady Longhurst is a great beauty, so I’ve heard,” George murmured in Marissa’s ear.
She flicked him a look and recognized the knowing expression on his face. “Is that why you’re here?” she asked disapprovingly.
“I want to see Valentine play the hero.”
A frown creased her brow. “He said you met up with Von Hautt in Magna Midcombe and that he threatened you.”
“Yes,” he said with a grimace. “Not one of my finer moments.”
“Why do you think he’s pursuing your family, George? What has he against you?”
George shrugged. “In my opinion he has bats in his belfry.”
The maid had reached the closed door to the small saloon. “Lady Longhurst is in here,” she said in a quiet voice. She hesitated, and then tapped lightly. When there was no answer she tapped again.
“Open it,” Valentine ordered.
With a jerky nod, the maid tried to do so, but the door was locked.
“Lady Longhurst,” he called out, knocking loudly. “It is Kent. You sent word for me to come and I am here. Please, unlock the door.”
“My poor lady is beside herself,” the maid whispered. The tears in the girl’s eyes welled over her lashes and began to trickle down her cheeks.
“When did Baron Von Hautt leave?” Valentine said.