Holy Scoundrel (18 page)

“MacKenzie went to market about an hour ago.”

Lacey went cold. “I called for her to watch Bridget and she wasn’t even in the house. Oh, Gabriel, I left Bridget alone. Oh, God. Oh, no.”

“Ivy, start combing the place for Bridget, will you? Come on, Lace, let’s go find MacKenzie. We don’t know for sure that Cricket’s not with her.”

“Let’s hide in this cave, Tweenie,” Bridget said, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of a hand, rubbing her chest where something pounded terribly fast, like she was scared on the inside, too. “Nobody will find us here. I don’t know how warm it will be but I don’t think the rain can come in.”

Inside, Tweenie whined and placed her head in Cricket’s lap.

She petted the pup. “If Papa and MyLacey don’t want me, I’ll live here, alone, with you. It’s very small, isn’t it? Just enough room for us, except if I sit straight, my head hits the ceiling. Uncle Nick has a big house, the Towers, a castle where I would have more room to run and play, but I don’
t
kno
w
Uncle Nick. How can Papa and MyLacey want to give me to him?”

Tweenie whined and buried her nose beneath Bridget’s pinafore.

“Papa says I’m not to come to the chalk pits, but I gotta think how to make them want me again. Was I a very bad little girl, do you suppose? I must have been. The
y
bot
h
want to give me away. I think they were angry with each other, too. If they can’t be friends, Papa will send MyLacey away, and I wanted so badly to have a papa and a mama, again.” She pulled Tweenie all the way on her lap and snuggled her. “Do you have a puppy mama somewhere? Is she home with God, like my mama? Maybe we can find you a puppy cousin, like MyLacey, to take care of you. Or is Iv
y
you
r
cousin?”

Bridget slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ivy’s not a dog,” she said, sleeking the pup’s long red back, “so he can’t be related, can he? But he loves you, I can tell.” She raised her head. “I have a better idea than Uncle Nick for my papa. If I went with Ivy, do you think that Hector and Merry would be my cousins?”

Bridget yawned, while it seemed that the walls of the tunnel got nearer.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Bridget said, petting the fur above the pup’s long red nose. “If Papa and MyLacey are worried about me, they might be friends to look for me. When they find me, maybe we can all go home together and they’ll forget about giving me to Uncle Nick.”

Tweenie whined.

“I know
.
I
f
they find me.”

Tweenie pushed beneath Bridget’s neck, offering herself as a pillow, and after a while, Bridget accepted, curled into a ball, and closed her eyes.

Gabriel enlisted the help of his flock to search for his daughter.

Julian Gorham appeared, and with graciousness, considering the way he’d been treated at Rectory Cottage, he offered himself and every member of his staff to help search.

Gabriel gave them lanterns and sent the searchers off systematically in all directions, so every inch of ground would be covered well beyond the Ashcroft Estate. He and Lace combed Cricket’s room to see if she took anything that might give them a clue as to where she’d gone.

No luck there.

When Gabe sent men to the river, Lacey began to cry even as they followed. “I should never have come home. Bridget was safer with you.”

“Talk like that is what got us into trouble. How do you think it sounded to her, us trying to give her to each other? It must have sounded like neither of us wanted her and that we hated each other.”

Lace stumbled, and Gabe righted her. “You can’t crumble on me now, Lace. You’re the one who’s keeping me going.”

His words sobered her. She accepted his handkerchief, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. “Sorry. I’ll try to be strong. Maybe it does take two people to raise a child. We were lashing out is all. ”

“I pray for the chance to explain that to Bridget,” he said, raising his lantern.

They took turns calling her name as they searched beyond the Ashcroft Estate and down toward Arundel proper. “Gabe,” Lacey said, breaking the tense nothingness, “suppose tha
t
wa
s
Bridget at the door, and she thinks she can bring us together as we look for her?”

Gabe shook his head. “To pull my strings, she runs to you, not away from you. This does not smack of manipulation.”

“She’s never seen me as a villain before,” Lace sobbed, “but I shoved you, remember?”

“She couldn’t have seen that, and you didn’t so much shove as I made it look like you did. I didn’t see her through the windows. Neither of us did. So how could she have seen us?”

Lace rubbed her temple. “She really is good at playing people, like Ivy with his puppets. Suppose she’s hiding to get our attention, trying to make the world go her way, again?”

Gabe caught her arm. “Suppose she is? I don’t care. I just want her back in my arms.”

“I’ll warrant she’s safe somewhere, waiting us out,” Lace murmured. “I hope she is.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’d like to think so,” Gabe said, “but we’ve checked every building on the estate.”

“Let’s look further off the property, then.”

“We will. We’ll look until we find her.”

When Bridget woke, the world had turned pitch dark and shivery cold, and her tummy growled with hunger. Nighttime noises chirruped and scratched all around her. Something howled from a distance and came closer.

“I . . . I hope that’s not Sergei the wolf,” she said beginning to cry. “I can’t find the get-out hole, Tweenie. I can’t see to stop hiding. Papa!” she screamed. “MyLacey! Come find me. I got lost.”

Thunder boomed and made her jump.

Tweenie rose and began to bark, then she hunkered down in front of Bridget and grabbed her sock, twisting and pulling at it—making Bridget giggle for a bit—until the pup won the tug of war. And the minute she had the sock, Tweenie disappeared.

Cricket couldn’t see where Tweenie went, but when she tried to push her way out about where the pup disappeared, rocks fell and filled the opening to bar her way. “I can’t follow you, Tweenie! Come back!”

Sergei howled again and Tweenie growled, then Sergei’s howl became a yip that faded.

“Just a scaredy old wild dog,” Bridget whispered to herself.

Tweenie barked from outside the tunnel, and Bridget’s head came up. “Go get Papa, Tweenie. Run. Hurry.” Bridget sobbed. “I’m scared.”

She heard Tweenie running, rocks falling, and after a while, something growly coming closer.

Bridget curled up and whimpered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dawn crept softly through the stained glass windows and brightened St. Swithin’s with shafts of color—a slice of blue for Lace, red for Gabe. But they remained kneeling, silent, cloaked in fear, lost in thought.

Eventually the light reached Lace’s eyes. Hope. She imagined turning to see Bridget walking—no, she rarel
y
walke
d
. Cricket would run up the church aisle to greet them.

Lace sat on the hard-backed oak bench, turned a hand in a shaft of color, disturbing a dance of dust motes, watching the color change as the sun rose higher in the sky.

She raised her face to be bathed in light, trying not to turn and look down the aisle toward a pair of gothic black walnut doors. If they opened, they would send a mighty squealing echo to bouncing off walls and rafters. But silence held sway.

Bridget would not run up this aisle any moment soon.

Gabe regarded her and grasped each other’s hands.

“I promised I’d give her to you and welcome, Gabriel, if
—
whe
n
we find her.”

Gabe squeezed that hand. “I made the same promise. She belongs with you. But it would kill me if you took her away.”

Lacey threw herself into his arms. “Gabriel, that’s what she heard us saying, but in her child’s mind, could that not sound as if neither of us wanted her?” She sobbed in his arms. “Oh Gabriel, she’s lost. Our little girl is lost and it’s our fault.”

“
Ou
r
girl. That’s what Clara wanted, I believe. She did not so much marry me, I think, as she married a father for Bridget.”

“But you married Clara because you loved her,” Lace said.

Gabe hesitated before he shook his head. “No, I’m afraid that I married her because I wanted to be a father to Bridget.”

Lacey squeezed his hand. “I suspect that you both had the marriage you wanted.”

“All for Bridget,” Gabe said. “I’m worried sick.”

“As am I. But we’ll have her back in no time. Soon the sun will have fully risen and we can start the search again.”

Lacey cleared her throat, but a sob caught there. “I’ll never forgive myself for being so selfishly concerned with—”

“Me getting caught in Olivia’s trap? Glad to hear. Means you want me for yourself, right? Don’t answer. You weren’t selfish, you were heroic
.I
was embarrassed by my gullibility, so I not only failed to thank you, I fought you. I am sorry and grateful.”

“If I had let you fight your own battle, Bridget would be safe in her bed right now.”

“And about to get Olivia for a mother.”

They both shuddered.

“Cricket will be fine,” he said, believing it. “I feel it deep inside.”

Lacey looked at him with hope. “I want to feel it, too.”

They heard that squeal of an echo, finally, Ivy throwing the church doors open and shouting for them to come.

“One of the elder searchers came to say he heard a dog barking in the chalk pits. He’s got a bad leg, so he couldn’t go down the uneven track, much less carry a little one up, but he met Julian before he got to me, and Julian’s on his way there.”

As if Ivy conjured a canine, Tweenie reached them in a silent frenzy, a little girl’s sock hanging from her mouth. With it, she ran toward Lace and stood on her hind legs presenting it.

Lace took the sock from the pup and trembled as she showed it to Gabe. “It’s Bridget’s.”

Tweenie took to barking and loud, running toward and away from them in ever-widening circles.

“She wants us to follow,” Ivy said.

Gabe grabbed Ivy’s arm so Lace could walk well ahead of them. “What were you not telling us?” Gabe whispered.

“Wild dogs, the old man heard, but they wouldn’t be barking for nothing. I said it careful so Lace would think it might be Tweenie.”

“Wild dogs. Oh, God,” Gabe said, picking up his pace.

A half-mile to the south, an old abandoned chalk pit had become a repository for slag heaps from all along the South Downs. Gabe had told Bridget to stay away from this one place on all accounts, so of course she would choose it to run and hide. At least he hoped the choice had been hers and that she hadn’t been abducted.

Why do fathers think of the most frightening scenes where their children are concerned? Who in Arundel ever got abducted anyway?

When Tweenie raced down the incline toward the base of the pit, Gabe lost all thoughts except the immediate expectation of seeing Cricket.

Lacey ignored the dizziness trying to take over her being as she stumbled her way down, trying to catch her balance more often than not, to where Tweenie barked and Julian tore at a dusty fall of rough slag pieces, fresh-broken, not weathered smooth like the rest.

Ahead of her, Ivy and Gabriel reached that particular slag heap first. There Tweenie took to barking furiously while Julian cleared enough space for the pup to disappear through a break in the debris.

“I’ve called to her,” Julian said, still working to clear the opening, “but she isn’t answering. I’m sorry.”

“She isn’t there, then,” Gabe said.

“Papa, MyLacey? Is that you?” Bridget called, clear as day.

“We’re here,” Lace said reaching the spot beside Gabe. “Are you all right?”

“I’m scared. It got dark.”

Julian shook his head. “Why didn’t you answer when I called your name?” he asked.

“Are you my Uncle Nick? I don’t want to be given to you, even if yo
u
ar
e
a saint.”

Gabe whipped his gaze to Lace. Bridge
t
ha
d
heard. That would teach them to watch what they said.

“Nick’s no saint,” Julian muttered. “But I don’t think he’s alone.” He eyed Gabe. “Can you see the light yet, little one?”

A small hand came through the opening and jiggled.

Lace sobbed. “Darling, I’m here.”

Gabriel and Ivy got on their knees and with Julian removed the largest chunks of chalk and stone to help widen the opening.

Tweenie whined suddenly and went inside, then Bridget herself emerged from the hollow cone of slag.