"Perhaps she wandered away, got lost and took shelter somewhere?" Lenard offered. "You said she was ill and so could not have gone far."
Marcus tried to think logically but with every passing minute the fear of never seeing Anna again, of living with the fact something tragic had happened to her, became increasingly unbearable.
Think, think, he told himself. Had he been alone he would have thumped his head to jostle his languid brain into action.
Logically, there were only two options. Anna, feeling delirious and disoriented as a result of her sudden illness, had made an attempt to walk back to the monastery. Or Victor's accomplice had followed the cart to the village and abducted her with the intention of doing her harm. Despite his experience with the depraved depths of the criminal mind, the thought of the comte having a mysterious partner, one prepared to loiter in a quiet village for three weeks in the hope of stealing Anna away, seemed too far-fetched.
"I think we should assume she has tried to make her way home," Marcus said with an air of confidence. "She could not have followed the lane back else one of us would have seen her on our way here."
"What about the woods?" Lenard said. "It seems a logical place to start."
"Agreed," Marcus said. "We'll stay together for a few minutes and let our instincts guide us." It was a method he had used before, a method that rarely failed him.
They headed out of the village, past the row of yellow stone buildings, past the old oak tree that had stood watch for more than two hundred years. There was only one path leading into the woods, and so they walked for a few minutes through the lush green vegetation, calling out to Anna, tapping at the undergrowth with a long stick they'd found discarded.
They all stopped when the track branched in opposite directions.
"There is an old cottage down there," Lenard said pointing to the right. "Perhaps she's taken shelter."
Marcus narrowed his gaze. Lenard was referring to the cottage used by the smugglers to store their goods. The same smugglers Marcus had seen behind Lenard's inn retrieving items from his cellar.
"We'll take the path to the right," Marcus said gesturing to Lenard. It would give him an ideal opportunity to advise the innkeeper against immoral pastimes. He nodded to Andre. "You and Justin go left. Holler if you find her."
"What about me?" Selene asked. "Can I come with you to search the cottage?"
As the last person to see Anna, Marcus wanted to keep Selene close. And this business with Samuel Lessard still bothered him. "Very well."
"How far do you want us to go?" Andre asked.
"Walk for a mile or so and then head back this way. When we've searched the cottage, we'll head to the shore. There are a few caves along the coastline that might be worth checking."
Marcus observed Lenard's reaction to his suggestion. The innkeeper's expression remained impassive. There were many logical reasons why one would not dare to climb slippery rocks and venture into a cave. But Lenard offered no such protest. It was all rather puzzling.
It took no more than five minutes to reach the cottage. Selene chose to wait outside while Marcus and Lenard searched the dilapidated building.
Everything was as Marcus had left it a few nights earlier. The memory roused images of Anna. That night he had stood in the cottage struggling to concentrate on his mission. Indeed, their clumsy coupling in the cave brought a smile to his lips, despite the feeling of anguish he was trying to keep at bay.
When he found her, he would ask for her forgiveness. It would take time for her to trust him again and so he would just have to be patient.
"The place is empty," Lenard sighed.
They stood together in the main living area.
"We'll walk down to the cliff edge and check around there." Marcus decided this was probably the best opportunity he'd have for a private discussion. "I hear your daughter is ill?"
For the first time in the last hour, Lenard's expression grew solemn. "The doctor says he needs more money. He says that she may never walk again."
Marcus felt a sudden burst of compassion. "I trust you do not have the funds to cover the doctor's expenses?"
Lenard appeared surprised by the impertinent comment. "I have not made my private affairs known to anyone," he said defensively. "What makes you think it would be a problem?"
Marcus put his hand on the man's shoulder. It was a gesture of friendship, a way to lessen the blow when he challenged him over his late night activities. "I heard you've been keeping bad company. That you're moving spirits from your cellar."
Lenard swallowed visibly. "Spirits? Why would I do such a thing?"
"Please don't lie to me," Marcus implored. "I am trying to help you. You have moved liquor from your cellar, have you not?"
There was a brief moment of silence.