“What?” Louisa’s breathed. Her world plunged into the deep, vast ocean. Taken? That one word was an anchor dragging her to the bottom of the ocean floor.
Her mind turned blank as a sheet of paper. What did he mean they took him? Was Leo not here? Certainly... certainly... he must be here!
She grasped onto the duke’s voice when he asked in a low voice, “When?”
“Right after you left. There were two of them. Snatched the lad from the beach while one distracted me.”
“You mean beat you.”
Helgate cursed. “You should see the other man. They took Leo, I couldn’t stop it, but I still have the one who planted the bruises.”
“That’s good.”
Good? How was that good? Louisa’s mind spun, and she sought for calm. Spiraling would not do her brother any good. She inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. And repeated.
“Those tiny jackals do know how to bite,” Helgate growled. “And they did wait for the boots to come off. The moment you cleared, they struck.”
Those blasted Furys! This was to prove a point, wasn’t it? A move of power. A show of... well she didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t a show of strength!
Drat, drat, drat.
Why had she ever thought she should leave her brother behind?
“Louisa?” a soft voice probed. “Just breathe.”
She swallowed, took another deep breath, and managed, “I cannot believe they kidnapped my brother. They will be at The Raging Stag, won’t they? Well, they shall have my rage today!”
The duke cursed. “He will be all right, Louisa.”
Her gaze lifted to meet Oliver’s. “Are you sure? How do you know that?”
“They won’t hurt him,” he said reassuringly.
Perhaps not physically, but that was an impossible claim to make. Her kidnappers hadn’t injured her either, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been hurt.
Oh, dear God.
Leo.
She clutched at her chest and dry heaved, struggling to once more catch her breath.
“Louisa!”
Strong arms enveloped her, but she couldn’t seem to grasp at their hold as memories of her own kidnapping ten years ago rushed in. Several men. Thick puffs of smoke. Water dripping through the roof. The mocking laughter of men. Coldness.
Darkness.
Then . . .
A low, male voice whispering through the abyss in reassurance.You shall be all right.Louisa’s breath hitched as the frame of a tall youth flashed across her mind. No, it should be that of a young man, not youth, but she could not be sure. In her memory, she could only see his mouth move, whispering those words of reassurance over and over again. Nothing else.
How . . .
Who . . .
Wasn’t it just a dream? Who was that young man? Why had he shown up in her head at this very moment?
“Louisa.”
