"You say you were sitting on the bench and heard a rustling from the bushes behind you?" Clayton asked.

"Yes. Before I had time to turn around I was. .h.i.t. I must have blacked out. I don't remember anything after that, just waking up with this headache."

"I've questioned the other guests. No one has seen anyone suspicious and everyone is accounted for," John said. "We must make haste before the trail grows cold."

Dorian shot him a dark look. As if he didn't know that they were wasting precious time. But there was no use going off ill prepared and leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

"It's going to be difficult to track her in the dark," John a.s.serted with a frown.

"We'll have to spread out. I've gathered every able-bodied man in the stable yard. We'll find her."

His mother tied off the thread and Dorian stood. The world started to whirl around him and darkness crept into the corners of his vision. "Blast this dizziness," he murmured, leaning down to regain his equilibrium. John was at his side in a moment. "Easy, old man. It won't do to pa.s.s out on us again." He tried to take his arm but Dorian brushed him off.

"I'm fine."

"Well, your face is as white as a ghost's."

"I'm fine, I say. Let us be gone."

"Wait!" Amelia stood up, her face splotchy with tears. "II think I know who took her."

Dorian crossed the room to stand in front of her, his brows together in a scowl. "Does Franklin have something to do with this?"

She nodded, her eyes full of fear and shame. "He and Martin Saunderson. They've been planning this for weeks. I overheard them talking before we came. I didn't know they meant to take her here. I thought Martin would show up and keep her attention away from you, but I didn't know they meant to actually kidnap her!"

"Where, Amelia? Think back to the conversation. Did they mention a place?"

She nodded. "Hanover. Martin said he knew of an inn there. I think he means to force her into marriage." Her bottom lip began to quiver.

"You've done the right thing, Amelia. Thank you. We won't let them get away with this."

Dorian and John headed out to their horses. It was decided that the other men would fan out as planned, just in case Amelia was wrong.

They followed a set of carriage tracks on the road north toward Hanover, riding fast and hard. By morning they'd reached the little village.

Please G.o.d let her be here. He didn't know why or how, but he felt like G.o.d was helping them and as grateful as he was, it made him uncomfortable too. It made G.o.d alive and personal. It made Him care . . . and Dorian just wasn't sure he really believed that. G.o.d hadn't cared enough to stop Molly. Why care now? Why with Kendra?

The town was small-a mercantile, a boarding house, a couple of taverns, a livery, a blacksmith, a constable's office, a church, and a few other small, scattered establishments. They headed toward the livery to feed and water their horses. A tall youth ran out to a.s.sist them.

"Sir, what a fine horse! Might I brush him down?"

Dorian clapped the lad on the shoulder and nodded. He had ridden Trista, one of the Andalusian mares, and had begun to regret it. The beautiful gray attracted too much attention as evident by this starry-eyed youth. Dorian dug some coins from his pocket and pa.s.sed them to the young man. "Take good care of them both and keep them out of sight, will you?"

He looked up wide-eyed. "Yes, sir."

"What's your name, boy?"

"Stephen Fowler."

"Your father own this place?"

"Yes, sir. My ma is fixin' to have a baby and he stayed with her this morning. I'm watching over the livery."

"You know horses? Been doing this awhile?"

"Oh yes, sir. Been around horses since I could walk. I've a natural way with 'em, I'm told. You can trust me to take good care of these fine animals."

"Glad to hear it."

John pa.s.sed over the reins of his mare. "Where's the inn around here?"

Stephen pointed toward a weathered plank building. "Aunt Judy's Boarding House. She serves breakfast if you're lookin' for a meal. She usually has plenty."

As they walked toward the boarding house Dorian made their plan. "As much as I would like to bust in, guns blazing, let's sit down for breakfast, ask questions, and have a look around the place."

John patted his stomach. "Exactly what I was thinking."

Minutes later they were seated near a window with a good view of the street, drinking strong coffee and waiting for their promised apple tansy, fried eggs, and pork.

"How's the head feeling?" John tipped back his chair and looked at Dorian over the rim of his coffee cup.

"Feeling like someone bludgeoned me with a hammer." Dorian's tone was dry. He looked out the window at the townsfolk pa.s.sing by and clenched his teeth together. "John, what if she's not here? What if we can't find her? Amelia isn't exactly an excellent source. We have so little to go on. I . . ."

"You love her, don't you?" John asked in a quiet voice.

Dorian jerked his head up to look at his friend. "What?"

"You've been like a man possessed since you clapped eyes on her on England's sh.o.r.e. Admit it to me, at least."

Dorian stared at John for a long moment, anger and frustration rising to heat his face. "I don't want to love her."

John chuckled. "Not what you thought it would feel like, is it? You'd think falling in love would feel good, but most of the time it feels like your guts are all tied up in knots. It's downright painful at times."

The arrival of their breakfast stopped the conversation. The serving girl set their plates in front of each of them and gave them a broad smile. "You'll be wantin' some more coffee, I suspect. Goodness gracious, but this town is full of folks lately. What with the doc in town for Mrs. Fowler's baby and that new couple, they're so elegant and mysterious! And now two handsome gents like you. I ain't ever seen Aunt Judy's so busy."

Dorian's head snapped up to look at the girl. "An elegant couple, you say? We're looking for someone. A young woman with blonde hair. She was wearing a blue gown. She has an English accent and goes by Lady Kendra Townsend?"

The girl nodded, wide-eyed. "Oh, yes sir. I didn't see her come in, but I heard Maybelle, the other serving girl here, talking about her. Maybelle took a tray to her room this morning. She came in with a man who is near famous in these parts."

"What's his name?"

"He's a gambler and so handsome." She patted her chest. "Martin Saunderson. You heard of him?"

"Yes, I have." So Amelia had been right. Thank G.o.d.

"Would you like me to go and fetch him for you?"

Dorian leaned in and murmured in a low voice. "No thank you, miss. What's your name?"

"Marie, sir."

"Marie, Martin Saunderson is very dangerous. Can you show us to the room where the lady is staying? I need to see that she is safe."

Marie edged closer, eyes wide as saucers. "You think she's in some sort of trouble with him?"

"Yes, I do. Will you help us?"

"Oh, sir! You're making me afraid, but I reckon I could sneak the two of you up the back stairs. Go on outside, to the back of the building. I'll let you in that door."

John took a giant bite of his apple tansy as he stood, gazing down at his food with a look of longing. "Can you wrap this up for later?"

Dorian frowned at him and tossed down the appropriate coins, handing an extra one to Marie.

"Come on, John. I believe the good Lord is rolling out the carpet with His help and I aim to take Him up on it. There will be time for breakfast later."

Kendra stood, knees locked and shoulders back, chin up and jaw clenched, wearing the awful dress and waiting for the sound of the bolt on the door to slide open. She shook with fear and anger but determined not to show it. Martin must find her strong and determined. When he entered with the magistrate they must both find her steadfast and resolute against them. No tears. Resolute. It was all she had left.

She waited for long moments, breathing so shallow that she felt faint. Finally, the door sc.r.a.ped open. A tall man with slumped shoulders and wearing all black walked in ahead of Martin. He was perhaps thirty, brown nondescript hair, a long face and somber eyes. His pinched face appeared afraid and sad and . . . guilty. His gaze darted from her eyes to the floor as Martin pushed him further into the room. He bowed, a short action of head and shoulders, his gaze lingering on her bruised cheek. Martin must have noticed it as he stepped up to he and grasped her elbow with a tight squeeze, pulling her arm against his chest, and smiled down at her. He brushed his hand against the throbbing cheek. "So clumsy, that fall." He looked at the magistrate. "She had a small accident, but will be fine in a day or two. Isn't that right, my dear?" Martin raised his eyebrows and dared Kendra to defy him.

The memory of him striking her was like another blow. She exhaled, lips trembling as she looked from Martin to the magistrate, mute, knowing that anything she said would be turned against her.

"Shy, are we?" Martin propelled her toward the magistrate in the center of the room. "A bride's nerves, you know. Let us get on with it."

The magistrate nodded his head with a bewildered expression and opened the leather-bound book in his hands.

Martin secured Kendra to his side with a strong arm and rasped into her ear, "It doesn't matter if you speak or not, we will be wed."

Kendra pretended not to hear as she stared at an ugly brown stain on the wall in front of her.

The magistrate paged through his book with shaking fingers and then launched into a lengthy speech about marriage. He did not once look at Kendra.

Martin grew impatient, fidgeting beside her. "Yes, yes, get to the vows, man. We haven't got all day."

The magistrate cleared his throat and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Do you, Martin Saunderson, take this woman, um, y-you d-didn't say what her n-name was," he stuttered.

Martin looked down at Kendra with a devilish grin. "Lady Kendra Townsend."

The magistrate started to nod and then looked up, startled at the t.i.tle.

"Just go on!"

Kendra jumped at the shout.

The magistrate cleared his throat again and looked at Martin. "Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after G.o.d's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will." His voice held a note of mock gravity as he stared down into Kendra's eyes. Anger, like she'd never felt before, filled her. She looked away, breathing hard and trying not to burst into tears.

The magistrate nodded and then turned toward Kendra. "Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after G.o.d's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Kendra turned her gaze to Martin's, held it, stared into his brown eyes. She shook her head and stated, "No, I do not. I will not. Never."

The magistrate paled and looked to Martin, who motioned with his hand for him to continue with the ceremony.

"Do you have a ring?"

Martin dug into his pocket, took Kendra's hand, and shoved a plain, gold band on her finger.

"Repeat after me," the magistrate instructed Martin. "With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow-"

"Yes, yes. Just do the ending."

Kendra shook her head as the man's eyes skipped down the page. "In as much as Martin Saunderson and Kendra Townsend have consented-"

"Consented!" Kendra yelled. "How will you sleep at night, knowing you've done this thing? G.o.d is our witness, sir."

"Continue and your debts will be paid in full," Martin reminded him with raised brows.

The man hesitated, his mouth working in silent indecision.

"You have exactly three seconds," Martin challenged. "Three, two-"

The magistrate cleared his throat and looked back down at his prayer book. ". . . together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before G.o.d and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I p.r.o.nounce that they be-"

Kendra fell forward but Martin caught her and forced her to stand upright. "Noooo! I beg you!"

Dorian turned from following John out the front door. "Wait. Forget the back way. It's Kendra." He knew that voice. He would always know that voice.

He turned and dashed up the stairs, John on his heels. A loud scuffling noise from behind one of the doors gave him his direction. He ran to the door and threw it open.

The occupants of the room turned and gaped as Dorian and John rushed into the room, pistols aimed at the two men.

Martin cursed while trying to grab the fleeing Kendra. Catching her, he pushed her behind his back, breathing hard. Dorian lost all conscious thought at the sight of her, eyes wide with fright. He took the steps toward Martin and punched him in the jaw. Before Martin had time to react, Dorian followed that punch with another to his stomach. Martin bent over with a harsh sound and tried to swing at Dorian but it lacked the strength that Dorian knew flowed through him from his fear for Kendra.

"Get back," Dorian ordered Kendra. While his attention strayed to her for a brief moment, Martin knocked his arm, the one holding the gun, and sent it sliding across the floor. They both dove for it, but Martin was closer. Dorian watched in dread as he grasped it and turned it on him, standing up with a slow grin. Dorian didn't pause, didn't give Martin time to even raise his arm and point the gun. He swung with all his might, punching Martin in the side of the head. Martin's eyes rolled back into his head and the gun clattered to the floor as he went down, the table falling over with a crash.

Looking around, Dorian saw that John held the man with the prayer book. He was pale and panting, not even trying to get away. Dorian tossed some rope to John. "Let's tie them up and then fetch any law we can find around here."

Dorian turned toward Kendra. "Are you alright? What was going on in here?"

"If you'd been a second later, I might be a married woman right now. Martin was bribing the magistrate to wed us without my consent."

Dorian glared at Martin who had come to and sat tied to a chair, his mouth bleeding on one side. "He lied to you, Kendra. The courts would never support a marriage that you didn't consent to."

Martin's upper lip curled in a disdainful smirk. "We would have been long gone from here and the marriage consummated before she figured that out."

"Come. Let's get you away from here." Dorian took her elbow and led her from the room, saying back over his shoulder, "John, hold the pistol on them while I fetch the constable."

"Gladly, Captain."