Page 118 of The Bachelor Spy
“Pennington.” Frederick ground out the name, sending a look over to Brandon.
The butler’s expression stopped him cold. Frederick had expected concern, perhaps fear.
Instead, his usually composed countenance had gone rigid, jaw set, eyes hardened. Frederick had known this man his entire life and had never—not once—seen him look like this.
“Sir.” Brandon’s voice was dangerously quiet. “You cannot go alone. Not with your eyes—”
“I’m not asking for permission, Brandon.” Frederick straightened to his full height, one hand still on Zahra’s shoulder. His mind was already cataloguing supplies: lanterns, rope, his revolver. Bandages. Dear God, would he need bandages? “My wife is in danger. My child—”Our baby.His throat closed. “I’m going.”
“And I’m coming with you, sir.”
The steel in Brandon’s voice paused Frederick. This wasn’t the deferential butler speaking. This was someone else entirely.
Frederick turned to face him. “Brandon—”
“With respect, my lord, Lady Astley is as dear to me as if she were my own daughter.” Brandon’s words came low and firm. “And you—forgive me for saying so, sir—cannot see well enough to navigate those tunnels safely alone. You need someone with you.” He straightened to his full height. “And since Mr. Blake is otherwise engaged, it should be me.”
Frederick wanted to argue. Wanted to protect this man who’d served his family faithfully for four decades from the danger that waited in those collapsing tunnels.
But Brandon was right.
His damaged vision could slow him down. Could cost Grace her life if he couldn’t see a hidden pitfall, a crumbling ledge, a lurking threat.
Heneededhelp.
And there was no one else he trusted more.
“Fine,” Frederick said. “Get rope, lanterns, anything that might be useful. Five minutes. Meet me at the garden exit to the forest.”
Brandon was already moving. “Yes, my lord.”
“I will go too.”
Frederick’s attention snapped back to Zahra, who’d raised her chin in that particular way that meant she would not be dissuaded.
The entire household had taken on a sudden bossiness.
“Zahra—” The word came out fiercer than he’d intended.
“I will show you the door to the tunnels.” She nodded to underscore her entreaty. “It will help you find her faster.”
Frederick shook his head, but he knew—knew—she would follow him anyway if he refused. At least if she came with them, he’d know where she was. Could attempt to protect her.
He dropped to his knees, close enough to see her tearstained face clearly through the tinted lenses. “You must promise me to stay back when I tell you.” He cupped her face, holding her gaze. “Do you understand? I need you to be safe, lamb. I needsomeonesafe.”
“I promise, Papa.”
“Good girl.” He stood, gesturing toward the door. “Go collect your coat and meet me in my room. I need to gather a few things.”
Within minutes, they stood at the garden’s edge where the manicured grounds gave way to the wild woods. Somewhere beyond those trees lay the chapel. The ruins. The tunnels.
And Grace.
His brave, clever wife.
And shewasclever. He knew that. It was an added comfort.
But she was still in the hands of a desperate man. Heading into unstable passages that could collapse at any moment.
