His Defiant Amaryllis (Hinley Manor Book 2)

15: Found bound

"Being lost is the way, how else can you be found?"

-Elizabeth Cunningham
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The rain was still falling heavily but up ahead, Damian could see the cottage. The absence of smoke from the chimney did not dissuade him. Lydia could still be in there. She simply did not know how to start a fire.

He kicked the horse until it almost threw him off upon halting just outside the door. He casted his feet down the ground, he cared naught if the horse was untied or if it ran away. He just sprinted and threw the door open with all his might. The scent of dust and emptiness welcomed his nostrils.

Empty.

His eyes surveyed the floors and saw no footprints or any signs that anyone had come through here.  Even the windows were bolted, probably to prevent rain and insects from crawling in. He stood in the middle of the living room and almost bumped into the sparse furniture. The fire place was dark and covered with spider webs. When was it last used?

Exhausted, he slumped down the foot of a chair. It was almost midday and there were no traces of her. By now, his in-laws would have noticed their absence. And the guests, the rest of them were arriving today.  The ball was on the morrow. Today was Christmastide.

Damian closed his eyes. He needed to think straight. Finding the duchess is his priority, the rest can be managed later.

A streak of lightning slashed against the sky. So bright that it illuminated the cottage. For a few moments he could make out what used to be a dining table on one corner and a discarded rug lay flat not far from him. The shadows left and came back.  He didn't jump, he was not scared of thunder and lightning nor of an empty cottage.

He needed to move at full tilt.

With the rain and wild noises around the forest, Damian pulled his horse and retraced his steps. A few moments later he saw a figure against the heavy rain drops. Hope rose in his chest.

"Your grace!" called out the silhouette. "I brought help!"

Help.

It was not Lydia but he welcomed another person's presence. After being alone in the forest, his mind had started to waver.

"Peterson and a few other men from town." Dante said. "Mister Garnder also came, saw 'im down the road."

Damian looked at the group of men before him. Some faces were familiar. "Thank you all for coming. I truly appreciate the help." His eyes met Ivo's. "I reckon you are more knowledgeable with the forest than I am."

"I sure am, your grace." replied his secretary. "My ma used to take me on the Bakewell's cottage. We know the family back then before they packed up and left.  I remember these areas pretty well." He pointed to the place where the duke just came from.

A roll thunder sounded from a distance. They ducked their heads down and was quite for a moment.

"Alright then, who are we looking for?" Asked one of the men. Damian recognized him from town.

"My wife." he replied

Peterson almost fell off the horse. "T-the duchess?!"

"Yes, the duchess."

His servant's face paled. "Have you, by any chance, lost her, your grace?" He shrieked. "How could you do that to her?! She is so fragile!"

"Peterson, you forget your place." Dante pulled him back. "I told you, an accident happened."

"B-but, the duchess. She's all alone...somewhere...the rain."

"Pull yourself together, Peterson. This is why we need to help the duke." Ivo patted his arm. "Save your tears. We will find her."