Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood 2)

could be found.

"Right," he said with an element of determination. "I'm going inside. Wait here until I give a signal to follow."

"I'm coming with you." Grace grabbed his arm and their gazes locked.

How could he refuse her anything when she looked at him with such sorrow in her eyes? All he could think of was seeing her happy and untroubled. "Very well. You may come," he said dismissing the strange sense of foreboding writhing through his body.

Grace trotted along beside him, trying to keep up with his long strides. Did his eagerness stem from a desire to bring an end to her worries or a determination to send her back to Cobham?

If only he would give her a small clue, a tiny indication of his true feelings.

Mentally chastising herself for being far too absorbed with her own problems, Grace shook the thoughts from her mind, intent on focusing on the task at hand.

Elliot rapped on Henshaw's front door, and Grace shuffled a little to the left to widen the gap between them to a more respectable distance. Due to the intimacy they'd shared, she felt more at ease when she could feel his touch. Even if it was only the sleeve of his coat brushing against her cape.

How would she fare when they were separated by miles, not mere inches?

Failing to rouse a response, Elliot knocked again and after a brief silence, she heard the faint sound of shuffling feet.

"Sorry, my lady," came the woman's voice as the door creaked open. "I wasn't expecting you back so—"

The woman's gaze shot up from the floor, and she jerked her head back as though reeling from an invisible punch.

"Mrs. Jones?" Grace narrowed her gaze as her mind attempted to confirm what her eyes were seeing. The presence of Caroline's housekeeper caused a mixture of relief and curiosity to course through her. "What are you doing here?"

"You know this woman?" Elliot asked in a sombre tone.

"Mrs. Denton, I … I thought …" Mrs. Jones shuffled on the spot. Her chubby lips moved up and down rapidly, but no words escaped.

Grace turned to Elliot. "Mrs. Jones is Caroline's cook. The one I've not seen for days."

"I c-can explain," she stuttered.

"Stand aside," Elliot commanded, his tone stern, unyielding. "You will let us in."

Mrs. Jones struggled to obey, but Elliot put his hand on the door to open it fully. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear. You will let us in."

The woman nodded as she stepped back to usher them inside.

"Is Mr. Henshaw at home?" Elliot did not look at the woman but glanced at the doors off the hallway.

"He … he's away. Gone abroad. I'm … I'm keeping house during his absence."

"Where are the servants?" he said opening the first door and peering inside.

"Norfolk. They've all gone to Lord Henshaw's house near Hunstanton."

"Why?" he demanded.

"The tapestries needed cleaning. There's dust everywhere since they've had the roof fixed. My lady sent them to help, thought they would like the opportunity to take some country air."

Grace could not contain herself and blurted, "Have you seen Caroline? Is she here?"

Elliot swung around and stared at Mrs. Jones.

The woman's gaze darted everywhere except at them. "Yes. Yes, I've seen her. There's no need for concern."

"She's here," Elliot cried racing to the stairs and climbing them two at a time. "Caroline is here."