Page 98 of Unmasking the Diamond
Cold dread swept through Luca. “What do you mean—where is she? She isn’t at your townhouse?”
“No.” Alcott tossed a crumpled note onto the desk. “I know you have her. This was left where she was taken.”
Luca snatched up the paper, scanning the unfamiliar handwriting and felt his stomach drop. “I didn’t write this.”
“Then who did?” Alcott asked.
“I don’t know,” Luca said firmly. “But it wasn’t me. I’ve been here for hours. Ask anyone.”
Alcott’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering like firelight. “A likely story.”
Luca’s temper flared. “I thought we had moved past accusations. For what possible reason would I abduct Charlotte?I lo—” He stopped himself just in time, his throat closing around the word. Not now. Not like this.
Some of the fury drained from Alcott’s posture, but the tension remained. “Then where the devil is she?” he muttered, half to himself.
Luca stepped around the desk, urgency coursing through his veins. “Tell me everything.”
“There isn’t much to tell,” Alcott said, his jaw tight. “A footman saw Charlotte walk to the back gardens. When she didn’t return, he went after her and found signs of a struggle and that note.”
Hillstead interjected. “Who gave her the note?”
“I don’t know,” Alcott snapped. “No servant has admitted to delivering it.”
“Are your servants loyal to you?” Luca pressed.
Alcott hesitated, the answer written plainly in his eyes before he said it. “I thought they were. Now… I’m not so certain.”
Luca’s mind raced, already assessing his next steps. “Have you contacted the constable?”
“No,” Alcott replied grimly. “I did better. I sent word to Warwicke. With his connections at Bow Street, we have a fighting chance.”
Luca nodded, relief mingling with grim determination. “Good. Have you spoken to her lady’s maid?”
“Not yet,” Alcott admitted.
“I’ll come with you,” Luca said immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument. He would not sit idly by while Charlotte—his Charlotte—was in danger.
Hillstead raised a hand. “I’ll stay here and keep digging. Maybe something in that ledger will make sense once I look again.”
“Do that,” Luca said shortly before turning to Alcott. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed his jacket and hat, his pulse hammering as he followed Alcott out the door. They didn’t speak as they stepped into the coach, and it started rolling down the street.
“We will find her,” Luca said, forcing confidence into his voice that he didn’t entirely feel. His throat was tight, and the words tasted hollow, but he needed to believe them—or at least make Alcott believe them.
Alcott turned towards the window of the carriage. “People go missing every day in Town,” he said. “And no one ever finds them.”
“That will not be Charlotte’s fate.”
Skepticism colored Alcott’s tone. “How can you be certain?”
“Because I will not stop looking for her,” Luca responded. His hands clenched on his knees to still the shaking. “Not until I find her.”
Alcott finally looked at him, the anger in his gaze tempered by something else—fear, perhaps. “I know,” he stated. “Neither will I.”
“Good.” Luca drew a breath, forcing his thoughts to sharpen. “She was taken for a reason. We just have to determine what that reason was.”
“Do you think she’s frightened?”
