Author's Note: Yay update! Sorry this chapter is so short. I'm working slowly but surely towards the climax of the story and I want to give myself a buffer in case I run into any roadblocks. Plus, the end of this chapter was a great stopping point because it's one of those Soap Opera-esque GASP! kind of moments. Does that make any sense? I've had way too much caffeine today.
This should be the beta'd version. Sorry about all the confusion, Kim! Thank you for being awesome!
Also, a quick shoutout to NataCara for messaging me to remind me that people do actually read my stories and kind of like them. That was nice to hear. :)
I've been rereading some of the reviews I've gotten on this story, and I seriously cannot thank you guys enough for your support. You're all just so freaking awesome. Thank you.
GREGOIRE
The house was completely quiet as the afternoon shadows lengthened across the library floor. Gregoire was struck by the oddness of the silence as he leaned back from his desk, taking a much-needed break from the reports he had been poring over since luncheon. He let out a heavy sigh. He should be savoring this moment, as such peacefulness came rarely in this house, but he couldn't. A chill slithered up his spine. He didn't like this silence; it reminded him of the tense lull that always preceded a storm.
He stood, and placed his hands on his desk very lightly, tapping his fingers to test his ears.
He wasn't deaf.
It was just too quiet.
Somewhere in the house, Zeus started barking. Greg sighed with relief and grinned, chastising himself for such unnecessary anxiety, but before he could ring the bell to have a servant bring the beast some food, he hesitated.
There was something different about that bark. Concern prickled like tiny, cold fingers down his spine. Something about the sound seemed... panicked.
Greg jumped to his feet, crossed the library and stepped out into the hallway. He glanced in both directions, hesitated as he tried to gauge where Zeus was, and set off towards the main hall.
He found Lena's mastiff en pointe with his nose at the front door, barking deeply, and angrily, and with a high-pitched whine that made the hairs on the back of Greg's neck stand on end.
Something was wrong.
He moved forward, calling Zeus's name softly, hoping to get hold of his collar in case he decided to attack someone. Zeus paid no heed. He kept barking, his eyes trained on the doorknob with unwavering intent.
When someone banged hard on the door, Greg was so startled he actually jumped back a step. Zeus stopped barking instantly, and the hall descended into utter silence. Greg could hear faint voices coming from upstairs, which did not surprise him, for he was sure he wasn't the only one who'd heard the cacophony Zeus had been making.
Then he heard something else. Something that did surprise him, and that sent a vicious, terrifying chill through him.
The sound of a woman crying.
Without a second thought, he flung the front door open, and Emily, one of the upstairs maids, fell into his arms. He grabbed on to her to keep her from sinking to the floor. She was trembling violently, and sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.
For one paralyzing moment, Greg did not know what to do. He was a secret agent of the crown; he had been trained extensively to handle unusual situations, to diffuse anger and avoid suspicion, to fight with countless types of weapons, and to resist torture to the death.
But for that one moment, he was utterly confounded. Too many thoughts were trying to take shape and gain dominance in his head at once. Too many emotions threatening to push their way to the surface. He fought them, forcing them down and away so that he could focus.
"Are you hurt?" he demanded in a sharp, firm voice.
The maid, Emily, managed to shake her head once.
"Were you followed?"
Her eyes widened up at him in confusion. Of course she didn't know. He bit back a growl of frustration.
Think simple. One thing at a time.
Emily.
Emily is Abby's maid.
She went with them to Hyde Park.
She's crying.
Abby and Lena aren't with her.
"Where is Helena?" he whispered. Emily's sobs grew harder, and she clutched at him tightly, burying her head in his chest. "Where is Abigail?"
"Gone," Emily cried, her words muffled by his coat, "they've been taken!"
"Gregoire!" His father's voice boomed through the main hall, commanding and distinct. Greg snapped his head up, and focused on his father. "Qu'est-ce qui se passé?"
What has happened?
"Je ne sais pas," Greg replied instantly. "Zeus a été aboyer à la porte d'entrée quand Emily est arrivé."
"En anglais, s'il te plaît," Greg's mother, Regina, chided in a calm voice as she walked into the foyer. She had a way of calming a situation, merely by being present, that soothed Greg's nerves immensely.
Greg nodded. "I don't know what happened," he repeated in English. "Zeus was barking at the door, I came to see what he wanted, and Emily was on the doorstep crying." He gestured to the maid, who was clinging to him like a terrified kitten. "Relax, my dear," he said to her in a quiet voice. "You are safe now."
"What's happened? What's going on?" Margot shouted, skidding to a halt as she rounded a corner and found her parents, brother, and a group of wide-eyed servants staring at her. "Zeus was barking strangely," she said defensively.
Regina opened her arms and Margot ran into them instantly.
"We don't know yet, ma cherie," she said in a gentle voice, "but it is important that you remain calm, d'accord?" When Margot nodded, Regina lifted her gaze and focused her pale eyes on her son. "Bring Emily into the Blue Parlor and have some tea sent up," she commanded. "You may join us after you have spoken with your father."
Greg nodded, once, and just like that his world fell back into place. His mother had always run her household with a firm, even hand, and following her orders at home came as naturally to him as following the orders of his commanding officer in the field. He put one arm around Emily's shoulders and followed his mother and sister, guiding the maid towards the Blue Parlor, the less formal, more comforting greeting room that was decorated in soothing, pastel shades of blue.
When he reached the sofa, Emily's arms turned into iron vices, and he almost had to pry her off. He murmured some comforting words to her and as soon as was humanly possible, he sped out of the parlor and back to the main hall. His father was waiting, with Zeus sitting patiently by his side.
"I have sent Eleanor to bring tea to your mother," his father said in French. "She will be able to get more information from the maid alone; our presence would just frighten her."
Greg nodded. He followed his father into the library, where the Vicomte de Millau kept a small escritoire for emergency purposes, on the opposite side of the room from his son's large mahogany desk. Greg sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace as his father unlocked a drawer in the escritoire, pulled out a thick stack of paper, of varying degrees of age and wear, and sat it on the table next to Greg.
"These are the letters from Viscount Stanford that I have received over the past two years," Philippe stated, still speaking in French to avoid having the conversation overheard by curious servants. "He has threatened my life and the life of your sister on multiple occasions. It is very likely that he is responsible, at least in part, for whatever has happened."
Greg stared at the pile of letters. It had to be at least two inches thick. He couldn't control the sudden surge of dread that rose up from deep within him as his father's words registered. Something horrible had happened to his sister and cousin. Even now, they could be dead.
No. His mind fought for reason amidst the panic racing through his blood.
They had been kidnapped. They wouldn't be killed outright unless the Dubois family failed to meet the demands of their kidnappers.
Someone held his sister and cousin hostage.
And it was very likely that Viscount Stanford had something to do with it.
Two years ago, Stanford had fled the country when he was supposed to be taking care of Helena. The beau monde thought that Lena had called off the engagement because she was afraid of losing him to the war, as she stood to lose her father and brother. Gregoire had been told that it was, in fact, Stanford who had abandoned Lena. He had seen her heartbreak firsthand when he had returned home from the war.
Apparently that wasn't the entire story.
"Did you..."
"Exile him to America?" his father finished, raising one eyebrow. "No. He made that decision himself. I just made sure he stayed there." He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something unpleasant. "I told you that he abandoned Helena, son. What I did not tell you is that he abandoned her because of a rumor that you and I had been stripped of our titles, lands and fortune and had been executed in France. He abandoned her because he thought she was penniless and common." His father's sharp, angular jaw clenched tightly, and pain and fury glittered in his eyes. "And because, at the time, she was with child."
Author's Note: Holy cliffhanger, Batman! Yeah. I totally did that to you. Sorry. I really do love you guys. Review if you want to let me know what you think. Or if you just want to curse at me.