Page 53 of A Stolen Heart

“I don’t want any. I won’t eat it.”

“Won’t you? It’s mighty tasty, and here it is past breakfast.” She picked up a glass of water. “At least drink this.”

“No!”

“Jenny,” Magdalena said significantly, and the girl went over to a low brazier not far from the bed. A few small sticks and such were in the brazier, and the girl efficiently lit them, sending a trail of smoke in the air. Then she dipped several spoonfuls of what appeared to be herbs onto the fire. The fire began to smoke heavily.

Alexandra coughed. “You’ll asphyxiate us,” she protested.

“Not at all.”

The smoke was heavy and pungent. Alexandra coughed again, but she could not keep from breathing in the thick, dark stuff, as the girl was busy with a fan directing the smoke toward Alexandra.

“Please. Stop that. I need to find out—my mother, is she all right?” Alexandra’s words sounded strangely slow to her ears. A strange sort of lassitude was creeping through her. She realized how hungry she was—and even more thirsty. Her mouth felt as dry as the desert, and she wanted water desperately.

She looked at the glass the woman held. She knew she should not drink it, but she was having trouble remembering why. She drew a deep breath. The smoke no longer bothered her. In fact, nothing was all that bad. What could it hurt to drink a little water? Or eat some food? She looked at the tray. She could imagine the crisp, juicy tang of the apple, the smooth taste of the golden cheese, the thick slab of bread slathered with creamy butter.

Magdalena picked up the plate from the tray and held it closer to Alexandra. It seemed to Alexandra that she could smell each individual piece of food, and they were all wonderful. Her stomach rumbled hungrily.

“Maybe a bite,” she mumbled.

Magdalena smiled. “First drink a little water. Peggoddy, help her up.”

He came to the side of the bed and lifted her under her arms to as near a sitting position as she could get with her hands tied as they were. Magdalena held the glass of water to her lips, and Alexandra sipped.

She screwed up her face. “Bitter.”

“Take another sip. It won’t be long.”

She held the glass to her lips again, and when Alexandra opened her mouth, she tilted it up and poured in a whole mouthful. Surprised, Alexandra swallowed. This time it didn’t taste as bad, and in a few more drinks she had drained the glass. With Peggoddy still propping her up, she ate the food that Magdalena held to her mouth. It tasted delicious, almost as good as she had imagined, and she ate greedily. By the time she finished, however, her lips felt strange and rubbery, and she noticed that there was a hazy look to everything. She glanced around the room, amazed at how good she felt, how warm and wonderful everything seemed.

“I’m sleepy,” she mumbled.

“Of course you are. You have a nice long sleep ahead of you.” Magdalena motioned to Peggoddy to release her, and he did so. Alexandra closed her eyes, slipping immediately into sleep. Magdalena looked at her with satisfaction. “Well, that ought to take care of her for the rest of the day. We’ll give her another dose with her meal this evening. And for heaven’s sake, douse that fire before we all get stupid.”

NEVER IN HIS LIFE HAD TWO DAYS passed so slowly for Sebastian. As soon as he had gotten home from his talk with Aunt Hortense, he had summoned Murdock and told him what had happened. He had laid whatever servants or money he might need at the man’s disposal with only one directive—find her. Next he had hired a Bow Street Runner and given him the same mission.

But he could not sit at home waiting for the net to catch some word on Alexandra’s abduction. He had gone to the rough sort of places he had frequented in his wilder youth, taverns where one had to watch one’s back, and gaming hells where one had to watch everyone else’s hands. He had made some friendships long ago in those places, and he called on them now, explaining the information he wanted and the money he was eager to pass on to anyone who could give him that information. By the end of the day, he had exhausted his sources, and there was nothing left for him to do except wait.

He did it poorly, pacing his study and snapping at every hapless servant who was foolish enough to interrupt him without bringing word of Alexandra. He did not pause to consider why he felt as if his life hung in the balance because a woman whom he held in contempt was in danger. The only thought that occupied him was the worry that the longer she was missing, the more likely it was that she had been harmed. He thought of the man taking her off somewhere and raping her, and his fingers curled into fists, red-hot anger coursing through him. When he got hold of the man, he promised himself, he would make him sorry he had ever been born.

Murdock urged him to eat and sleep, pointing out how little use it was to make himself less alert and strong for when the time came for action. Sebastian understood the logic of his manservant’s words, but he could not follow his advice, however reasonable. Food seemed to stick in his throat, and though he lay down on his bed, sleep kept its distance from him, coming only in fits and starts. During the brief periods when he did sleep, he dreamed crazy, frightening dreams and awakened from them with a start.

By late the next afternoon, he looked as if he had aged years, and he felt worse. There were blue circles beneath his eyes, and lines had sunk into the skin around his mouth. He had not bothered to shave or to tie a cravat. The lunch that Punwati had brought him was on a tray on his desk, largely untouched.

He sat slumped in a chair beside the desk, his eyes closed, but he was not asleep. When the door opened, his eyes flew open and he was out of his chair in an instant. Murdock stepped into the room, and though his face was set, there was an intensity to his eyes that gave Sebastian hope for the first time in two days.

“What is it? Do you have news?”

“We tracked down a man. He’s known for doing jobs that require brawn, not brain, and today he’s been spending money and boasting about getting paid two ways, saying once for the old lady and once for the girl.”

Sebastian’s heart picked up its beat. “Where is he?”

“In a tavern. I got men watching him. He won’t get away. But I thought you’d want to talk to him yourself.”

“You’re right about that.” Sebastian was pulling on his jacket. “Get my pistols.”

“In the hall, my lord.” Murdock’s pistol was already tucked into the waistband of his trousers, hidden by his jacket. “I took the liberty of having the carriage brought round.”