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Barclay let his words trail off. If Jane had accepted a proposal, it would cause a scandal for her to reverse her position.

Unburdening himself to Aurora had helped ease the tension in his mind. In doing so, he turned his attention back to Tatiana to run through their last few conversations so he might seek a clue to where she might be.

Inspiration hit. Jumping to his feet, Barclay hastened out the door for the one place he had not searched. This time he was certain he would find his child, but he hoped she would be safe, recalling the pond’s slippery edges covered in green algae that lay nearby to his destination.

Chapter Seventeen

"There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time."

Jane Austen

* * *

Barclay darted from the terrace, jogging across the gardens toward the woods. He was aware of drawing curious looks from the other guests, but he did not give a damn. He needed to reach Tatiana and ensure she was safe. Approaching the woods, he stopped to scan for the path they had taken days before.

As he entered the trees, the call of birds and the singing of insects were his only companions as he strode down the path. When he left the manor, he had been certain he would find Tatiana, but doubts had crept in as he kept walking. What if Tatiana was not there? His breath caught at the thought. That would mean she was still unaccounted for.

Why had he agreed to this cursed house party? It had created nothing but chaos and hesitation. He had been perfectly satisfied with his prior life, working hard and mourning Natalya’s absence. Now—swallowing hard, Barclay finally admitted the truth—he was in love with Jane, whom he had wronged, and his daughter was missing.

It was all so … complicated.

It was with a huge sense of relief that he caught sight of the pond through the trees. Picking up his pace, he jogged the last of the path and, navigating a final bend, the pond came into view. Across its expanse stood Persephone, gazing back at him over the water. Barclay steadied himself on his feet, giddy with joy when he noted the figure of his daughter scrunched near the feet of the statue.

Careful to avoid the banks of the pond, Barclay ran the last forty feet to join her. His fear was assuaged, but his anxiety returned when he saw how her head was bent against her knees, her slender arms wrapped around her shins.

“Tatiana!”

Her head lifted to reveal a tear-streaked face. “Papa?”

Reaching down, he grasped her under her arms and raised her to his chest in a hard embrace. “Oh, little one, I was so worried about you.”

She lifted her reed-thin arms around his neck, lowering her face against his chest to hug him tightly. “She did not come,” she whispered into his coat.

“Who did not come?”

“Jane did not come. I left her a note, but she did not come.” And, for the third time in as many days, Barclay held a sobbing female to his chest. He looked about, then walked over to a bench near the back of the cave to take a seat. Settling Tatiana on his knee, he pulled out a handkerchief to carefully wipe her cheeks and dry her eyes.

“I do not think that Jane received your note, little one.”

Big, blue eyes found his as she leaned her head back from his chest to look up at him. “How do you know that?”

“I asked her if she knew where you were, and she did not.”

“Oh.” Tatiana hung her head, her expression devastated. “I failed.”

“Failed at what? Why are you here?”

Tatiana turned her face away to stare at the cave wall sweeping around the bench. “You will not believe me. You did not believe me when I tried to tell you before.”

Barclay raked a hand through his hair while he tried to think. He was afraid he had not been on his best behavior these past few days. In an attempt to be responsible and do his duty, he had hurt Tatiana and Jane. He should have listened to his daughter—to his heart—and in not doing so, he had let both of them down.

“I will listen now. Tell me what this is all about, and I promise to pay attention.”

Tatiana bit her lip, evidently considering his words. Eventually, she turned her Baltic-blue eyes back to him. “Mama told me Jane was the one.”

Barclay blinked. “Mama?”

“She came to visit me, and she told me it was time for her to leave and that Jane was to be my new mother.”