“I want to wait to see what the others find,” Gregory said, “but I take it Ecton Hall didn’t always look like this.”
Her gaze fixed on the house, Julia answered, “No. This is ghastly. When the current Lord Ecton’s parents were alive, it was a lovely, welcoming place.” She huffed. “They would be turning in their graves if they could see it now.”
Parker appeared around the side of the house, jogging around the line of the circling trees.
He slowed as he reached them and nodded to Gregory. “No sign of anyone at all, but we found a flashy curricle and a couple of nags in a broken-down stable out back. The horses have definitely been out recently.” Parker’s expression darkened. “But there’s no one about to even give them a rubdown, and their tack’s just been tossed any old how over a rail.” Condemnation rang in his tone.
Gregory nodded. “Thank you.” He glanced at those around him. “So it appears Ecton drove here after kidnapping Caitlin. If he realized Hattie saw him seizing Caitlin, he’ll be expecting me.” He glanced at the house. “So I’m going to go in via the front door.”
“I’ll go with you,” Patrick Fergusson declared in a tone that brooked no argument.
The man was Caitlin’s guardian. Gregory inclined his head. “That might be wise.”
“Meanwhile”—Rory straightened—“Hamish, Daniel, and I will circle around and see if there’s some other way into the house.”
Hamish snorted. “With such a ramshackle place, there’s sure to be somewhere around by the kitchens where we can get in.”
Without waiting for further discussion, Rory led the other two off, following the path Parker had used to reach them.
Parker watched the trio go, then looked at Gregory. “I’ll go and let the others know what’s happening, sir.”
Gregory nodded, and Parker saluted and trotted after the brothers.
Watching Caitlin’s cousins tread lightly as they went, their eyes searching the house’s façade for possible entry points, Gregory recalled comments she’d made regarding their stalking skills—Rory’s and Hamish’s especially—and decided he didn’t need to worry about them.
“Right, then.” He looked at the others gathered to either side; they appeared ready to storm any bastion. “At this point, I’d like you all to remain here, while Mr. Fergusson and I and Caitlin’s cousins see what we can learn. If we need assistance, we’ll call.” He studied the house. “If we leave the front door open, you’ll be able to hear us easily enough.”
There were rumblings, but he didn’t wait for any argument. He glanced at Patrick Fergusson. “Ready, sir?”
Patrick waved at the front door. “You know the man. Lead on.”
Gregory did, striding swiftly to the front steps and climbing to the front porch. The bell chain hanging beside the door was broken, and the knocker looked to have been wrenched off; all that remained was a darker spot on the door.
He raised a fist and thumped on the door.
He and Patrick waited, but no response was forthcoming.
Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps we’ve caught him napping.”
“Whether literally or figuratively…” Gregory shrugged and reached for the doorknob.
That, at least, still worked. The door swung inward on a long, loudcreak.
Gregory stepped into a front hall that bore no resemblance whatsoever to any he’d previously seen. Cobwebs wreathed the old chandelier and draped outward to festoon the paneled walls. Dim light slanted down the stairwell, illuminating the dust that lay thick on the floor and coated the few pieces of furniture remaining—like the battered suit of rusty armor standing by an open door. The rug that covered the center of the floor had probably once held a pattern, but it was indistinguishable now.
Gregory walked forward, and Patrick followed, leaving the front door open.
Looking around, Gregory noticed that, except for the door beside the suit of armor, all other doors leading off the hall appeared well and truly closed. Judging by the cobwebs and dust, they hadn’t been opened for quite some time.
He met Patrick’s eyes, then raised his voice. “Ecton!”
“In here,” came the immediate response, predictably issuing from beyond the open door.
Frowning, Gregory stalked in that direction.
“He likes to play games,” Patrick muttered as he followed.
One behind the other, they strode into the room. A desk faced them, but the chair behind it was unoccupied.
