The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

He prayed it wouldn’t rain but the building gray clouds overhead didn’t look promising. Cadoudal was heading due south, toward Eastbourne, directly on the coast. Was he intending to take her to France? Douglas’s blood ran cold.

It began to rain two hours later. Douglas cursed, but it didn’t help. The tracks quickly disappeared, but he had this feeling that Georges, the brilliant strategist, wasn’t going to have an easy time of it with Alexandra. She wouldn’t swoon; she’d try her best to get away from him and that frightened him more than soothed him. Cadoudal wasn’t used to having anyone go against him; he was unpredictable; he could be vicious. Douglas plowed forward toward Eastbourne.

Just before he reached the town, soaked to his skin and trembling with cold, he knew that it would be next to impossible to find Cadoudal by himself. He would need much more than luck; he would need help. He needed many men to scour the inns and the docks and check into all the ships’ passages.

He was tired, exhausted really, and knew that there was simply nothing more he could do. Yet he still rode into Eastbourne and stopped at three inns. None recognized his descriptions, that or they’d been paid by Georges to lie. Defeated, he mounted his horse, more exhausted than he was, and rode the fifteen miles to Northcliffe Hall.

Hollis took one look at His Lordship and called immediately for his valet. Douglas was bundled off to his bedchamber and put into a warm dressing gown. Hollis then deemed it appropriate for him to receive family, beginning with himself.

He said, “John Coachman told us what happened. I’ve sent out word and there are thirty men ready to do your bidding. You have but to give me instructions.”

Douglas stared at his butler and wanted to fling his arms around the man. He said instead, his voice slow and slurred with fatigue, “Georges Cadoudal has her, Hollis, and I fear that he has already taken her to France. I did track him nearly to Eastbourne but it began to rain. I had no luck at the local inns.”

Hollis patted his shoulder as if he were a lad of ten again. “No trouble, my lord. You will provide me with a description of this Cadoudal and I shall give it to all the men. They can be off within the hour. As for you, you will rest before you leave this chamber.”

Douglas wanted to resist but he was so weary he merely nodded.

“I will bring you food and some nice brandy. Your brain will commence to work again very soon.”

So it was that twenty-two men fanned out toward Eastbourne within thirty minutes, such an efficient general was Hollis.

He said to Douglas, “I also sent word to Lord Rathmore. I expect him shortly. His Lordship has never let you down before, you know.”

Douglas grunted and sipped at the stomach-warming brandy. He’d eaten his fill, the fire in the fireplace was warm and soothing. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He slept deeply for an hour undisturbed, awoke and was greatly refreshed.

He opened his eyes to see Sinjun standing by his chair. For an instant he didn’t remember and said, “Hello, brat. Where is Alexandra?”

The truth slammed through him and Sinjun watched as he paled.

“I’m sorry, Douglas. Despite what Mo

ther says, I will accompany you to search for her. Shall I notify Tysen?”

“No, leave him be at Oxford.” Douglas rose and stretched. “I don’t believe this,” he said to no one in particular.

“It’s late, Douglas. Too late really for you to set out again. ’Tis nearly midnight.”

“There are twenty-two men out searching, Sinjun. I must join them.” He paused and gently cupped her face in his palm. “I thank you for wishing to come, yet I must ask you to remain here and run things. You know Mother . . . well, I want to be assured that all will be in readiness for Alexandra’s return.”

Douglas rode from Northcliffe Hall toward Eastbourne. It had stopped raining, thank the benevolent Lord, and there was a half-moon to light the way. He met McCallum, his head stable lad, at the Drowning Duck Inn on the docks in Eastbourne.

“Ah, Your Lordship needs a pint. Sit down and I will tell you what we’ve learned. I’ve made this inn a headquarters and each thirty minutes a group of fellows come to report their progress to me. That’s right, drink your ale and sit down. Now just listen, my lord.”

At two o’clock in the morning, five men trooped into the taproom to report that Cadoudal and Her Ladyship had taken a packet to Calais. Unfortunately they couldn’t follow because of the contrary tides and the storm that was now blowing in. There was nothing they could do until the weather cleared and the tide changed.

Douglas told McCallum to send the men home. He arrived back at Northcliffe Hall at four o’clock in the morning.

He found himself going into Alexandra’s bedchamber. He lay down on her bed in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling, exhausted but wide awake. He remembered every harsh word he’d ever said to her. He remembered the hurt in her eyes when he’d spoken of Melissande and how she would have acted the lady and done as her husband told her.

He felt pain wash through him, deep aching pain and an emptiness that was at once unusual yet not unexpected, not now, now that he’d finally come to realize that he couldn’t live without his wife.

He heard her speaking French, saw her sitting at his desk, looking so very young, her voice clear and precise, her accent atrocious. He smiled even as the pain ebbed and flowed deep inside him.

He would find her; he had to. He couldn’t now imagine facing a life without her.

The following day the storm had become a gale. No one was going anywhere. Rain splattered the windowpanes, and thunder shook the earth. Tree branches on the poplars were pressed nearly to the ground by the force of the wind. Douglas prayed that Georges had gotten Alexandra to France safely. He laughed harshly even as he prayed for that.

As for his mother, Lady Lydia sensed that the upstart wife who had been unknown to her son before she’d thrust herself into their lives had shifted in his regard. She wasn’t stupid; she kept such thoughts as let the twit stay gone behind her teeth. As for Sinjun, she tried to keep her brother occupied.