Street.
Julian slammed his fist into the garden wall, not even feeling the pain. There had to be a way to reach them.
Finchley House was one of only two houses on Grafton Street whose gardens backed directly onto the mews. All the other houses had stables separating the mews from their gardens. Julian scanned the long narrow lane, searching desperately for a horse. What he found was Hart’s driver, sitting idly on his bench in an unmarked carriage a few doors down. Thank God his friend was always prepared for a hasty departure.
Julian whistled for Jonas just as Hart ran up beside him.
‘I saw you hurry past. What has happened?’
‘Someone has taken Katrina. I’m taking your carriage.’ Julian climbed onto the driver’s box, next to Jonas, and looked down at Hart. ‘Find Miss Forrester and let her know. You both must keep this a secret. Watch for my return.’
Hart nodded, and stepped back as Julian and Jonas sped away.
The carriage rocked as it travelled over the bumpy cobblestones. There was a bend in the lane ahead. Hopefully the other carriage would be visible once they had made the turn.
‘There was a carriage here just now, Jonas. Did you see it?’
‘Aye, Your Grace. The one with the unmatched pair?’
‘That’s the one. We need to follow it.’
Jonas nodded as if chasing down another carriage was a common occurrence and then called out to the horses. ‘Come on, boys, on with you.’
The carriage picked up speed.
‘We won’t know which way they went once they reached Bruton Street,’ he pointed out to Julian over the sound of turning wheels and clattering hoofbeats.
‘I’m aware of that. Let us pray they are not that far ahead of us and we see them.’
Julian had no idea what he would do if they did not. He clenched his right hand into a fist.
Thankfully when they reached the end of the mews, they spotted the driver’s green coat and the mismatched pair of horses as they turned right onto New Bond Street. Julian knew that once they were away from the street lights of Mayfair it would be harder to track them.
‘Whatever you do, do not lose sight of them,’ he ground out.
They followed the carriage out of Mayfair towards Cheapside. He thought of trying to overtake it, but was afraid it might cause an accident and Katrina might not survive. He would follow this carriage to the far corners of the land to get her back, and when he did he was going to beat Armstrong senseless.
If it was Armstrong, could it be possible that he was taking her to Gretna Green? Was he that desperate? Certainly by the way he had rendered her unconscious, this elopement was not by choice.
If they were headed there they would have to change horses in two hours. Julian needed to force himself to remain calm until then. He would do Katrina no good if he could not think clearly. In two hours he would have her back. And Armstrong would regret the day he had planned this.
When Jonas lost sight of the carriage near St. Paul’s it was nearly impossible for Julian not to lash out at the coachman. They could not have disappeared. They had to be somewhere close by.
He gripped the rail in front of him until his knuckles were white. Dear God, please let me find her.
The streets in this part of London were not very familiar to him. Thank God Jonas appeared to know his way around. After circling the streets for what felt like hours, but had probably been less than fifteen minutes, they spotted the carriage parked on Newgate Street. He had Jonas stop far enough back that their presence would not be easily noticed.
Looking closely at his surroundings, Julian realised he knew this place. The carriage was parked in front of the Crypt of St Martin’s le Grand. He, like other people in London, had ventured out here to inspect the crypt when it had been uncovered not long ago.
The implication of where they were made his palms sweat and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. This was not a forced elopement. What was Armstrong up to?
Before Julian had a chance to determine the best way to approach the situation the cloaked figure hurried out of the crypt empty-handed, and re-entered the carriage. Julian’s blood ran cold. His gut told him Katrina was in the crypt.
As the carriage pulled away Jonas spoke up. ‘Shall I follow it?’
He shook his head. He knew where to find Armstrong—and he would find him. But first he needed to reach Katrina. He only prayed he wasn’t too late.
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