“I don’t know, Noble. I wish to God I did. I never thought—I was sure Carlisle was innocent—but I suppose you were right. My nose has gotten cold.”

Noble clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, then resumed his pacing. “It’s not your fault, old friend. She was my responsibility—what is it, Crouch?”

“M’lord, one of the Runners ’as returned.”

Noble raced over to where the Runner, still dressed in his livery, was jumping off a horse. “They’ve gone toward Colfax,” he said breathlessly. “We followed them to the east road. Davey’s on their heels, but I’d wager a year’s worth of blue ruin that they’ve gone to the Nag’s Head Inn at Colfax.”

Noble was in the carriage before the man had finished, ordering the coachman to spring the horses.

“Papa! Don’t leave without me!”

Noble swore and threw the door open, grabbing the small figure of his son and hauling him into the carriage just as the horses leapt off.

“We’ll be right behind you,” he heard Rosse shout as the carriage barreled down the road, the coachman bellowing oaths at the people who were foolish enough to block his path. Noble closed his eyes briefly against the pain that threatened to overwhelm him, pain at the thought of losing Gillian. She was his very soul, hers entwined so tightly with his that he didn’t think he could survive the separation. His mind repeated a litany in time to the horses’ hoofbeats, “Please God, let her be all right.”

A small, cold hand slipped into his. Noble opened his eyes and looked down at his son.

“She’ll be fine,” he said, wiping off a lone tear streaking down the boy’s cheek. “Don’t worry, son, we’ll rescue her.”

“Just like she rescued you?” Nick asked, squeezing his father’s hand tight.

A small smile flashed over Noble’s face. “Yes, just like that. We’ll save her and take her home and keep her safe for the rest of her life.”

Nick burrowed his head into his father’s side. “That man will hurt her like he did Mama,” he said into Noble’s coat.

“What man?” Noble asked, the idea of locking his wife away in a tall tower beginning to look very attractive.

“The man who hurt Mama. The man who hit you on your head when you came in to help me.”

Noble felt his blood turn to ice. Gently he pushed the boy back until he could see his face. Nick’s eyes—those eyes that made him feel he was looking into a mirror—gazed back at him filled with pain and worry.

“The man you saw who…” God, he hated to do this to him, but it was Gillian’s life at stake. “The man you saw shoot your mama?”

Nick nodded, a tear spilling over his brimming eyes.

“Where did you see this man?”

“At Gentleman Jackson’s. He was watching Gillian.”

The ice turned to fire deep inside him. “Was the man still there after Gillian left?”

Nick nodded again, looking even more worried. He twisted the material in his short pants between nervous fingers. “Did I do something wrong, Papa? I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”