by Ava Stone
“Miss Alcott,” he said, rushing toward her. “My deepest apologies. There’s so much chaos here today, I didn’t even hear your knock.”
“It’s quite all right, Bendle, but what is going on?”
The man was breathing heavily, and his aged eyes held a fair amount of concern. “I-I’m not certain I should tell you.”
Now Daphne was more than curious. “Is everyone all right?” A pit settled in her stomach. What if it was Alastair? Had something happened to him?
“Well, we aren’t quite certain.”
She’d had enough of this cryptic conversation. “Bendle, I insist you tell me what is going on. Now.”
The poor man looked terrified, but Daphne would not back down. She had to know what was happening here.
“It’s Miss Eilbeck.” Bendle began to wring his hands together.
Daphne took a step closer, the pit growing ever larger in her belly. “What about her?”
“She’s…missing.”
“Missing?” Daphne narrowed her eyes. “For how long?”
Bendle shook his head. “An hour, perhaps? Everyone is looking for her, searching every nook and cranny of the castle. But she hasn’t turned up yet.”
“And who was the last person to see her?”
“Lord Quent.” Bendle stared at her, his lips twitching slightly, as if he had more to say.
“Go on,” she said. “Tell me what Lord Quent did.”
“Oh, no. It’s not that. Lord Quent didn’t do anything, he just…saw her disappear.”
Daphne raised her eyebrows. “Disappear?” she repeated, lacing her tone with skepticism.
“Mrs. Small believes the castle has taken her.”
No. Not possible. That story about Mrs. Routledge was only that: a story. A tall tale meant to frighten and delight visitors to the area, and nothing more.
“And you, Bendle?” she asked, slowly. “What do you believe?”
He took a deep breath and pulled himself up taller. “I have worked here many years, Miss Alcott, and I’ve seen many things that cannot be explained.”
He wasn’t going to admit one way or the other, but that was enough to make her think he was leaning toward Mrs. Small’s opinion, which didn’t set Daphne at ease in the least.
She held out her coat and hat for Bendle to take. “Where is everyone?”
“All over, miss.”
Daphne bit her lip. “Where is Lord Wolverly?” she amended.
“The East Wing.”
Right. She looked around, unsure of how to access the East Wing. Finally, Bendle took pity on her.
“Down that corridor, to the left. You’ll see a staircase only slightly smaller than this one.”
“Thank you, Bendle.” She hiked up her skirts and took off at an unladylike run down the corridor, following the butler’s instructions until she arrived at the staircase.
It was colder here in this part of the house. Perhaps there were more spirits here? Or perhaps it was simply a draftier area that went neglected. Surely the dust on the banister would indicate as much.
Daphne climbed the stairs until she found herself on a landing, nearly cloaked in darkness. The only light came from a small window at the end of the long corridor of rooms. She wrapped her arms about herself, squeezing tightly, and wishing she had kept her coat with her. It seemed colder here than it did out of doors.
She was about to venture toward the first door, when she heard voices coming from the next floor up. Alastair.
She raced up the staircase, and by the time she reached the landing, she was quite out of breath. But he was there, just coming out of a room at the opposite end of the corridor, Mr. Garrick beside him.
“Daphne,” he said, sounding a bit surprised to see her, but then he was coming toward her, his footsteps so sure and strong.
He didn’t stop before her, as she’d expected him to. Instead, he careened into her, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her close in his embrace. She felt the tension ease from him.
“What the devil are you doing here?” he nearly spat.
Daphne pulled back slightly to look up into his eyes. “Your words and your actions do not go hand-in-hand, sir,” she said. “Are you glad to see me or not?”
Though it was meant as a joke, Alastair did not seem to find it as such. His brow furrowed with worry as he brought his thumb up to stroke her cheek. “A little of both, I’m afraid. I meant to come and see you this morning when I saw the weather had cleared, but just as I was about to saddle Jupiter, I received a summons to the gardens. It’s not safe for you here, Daphne. You must go back home and wait for me there.”
“One of my very best friends has apparently been swallowed up by a haunted castle and you expect me to sit at home and wait?” She could hardly believe he was suggesting such a thing.
“Daphne,” he warned, but she wouldn’t be intimidated.
She set her jaw and stared back at him with determination. “You won’t change my mind.”
“But your condition.” He took her face between her hands. There was so much fear and worry in his eyes, Daphne hated to defy him so. But she wasn’t going anywhere until Callie was safe and sound, her condition be damned.
“The only condition I need worry about is the condition of my dear friend. Now…” She looked over Alastair’s shoulder to Garrick, who leaned lackadaisically against the wall, shamelessly watching their interchange. “Are we going to stand here and argue all day, or are we going to demand the castle give up Miss Eilbeck?”
Alastair must have realized he’d lost the battle, for he shook his head and took a couple steps back. “You heard the lady,” he said to Garrick. “Let’s find Miss Eilbeck.”
Alastair had a mind to wring his future wife’s delicate little neck. This was no place for her to be right now. Though Alastair didn’t truly believe the castle itself had taken Miss Eilbeck, someone had. And that person could still be lurking about the grounds, looking for another young miss to abscond with. And what if something truly terrifying had happened? What if, in the most ridiculous of circumstances, there was something other-worldly going on? Could Daphne’s heart withstand such a terror?
“Where have you looked already?” she asked, seemingly ready to take off into a run.
“We have one more room on this floor to check,” Garrick said when Alastair couldn’t seem to find his tongue. Damn chit. “Then we still have the floor below.”
“Garrick, you finish this floor, then.” She grabbed Alastair’s hand. “We’ll go down and start on those rooms.”
Garrick nodded, and Daphne tugged on Alastair’s hand, causing him to lurch forward. She didn’t let go, dragging him all the way down the stairs. Part of him was rather put off that she was exercising such authority over the situation, yet another part of him found it somewhat arousing. What would she be like in the bedroom?
He stifled a laugh. Surely she wouldn’t just lie there and let him have his way with her. Clearly, this was a girl who liked to be in charge every once in a while.
“You search that side,” she said, pointing to one side of the corridor, “and I’ll search over here.”
This was where Alastair drew the line. “No,” he said firmly. “We will stay together. Garrick can do that side when he gets here.”
Daphne’s beautiful face stared up at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Are you mad?” she asked, and he had a feeling she was truly wondering if he had indeed lost his mind. “There isn’t time. Callie is missing, and who knows who has her.”
“Exactly,” Alastair bit back, rather more bitterly than he intended. “Whoever it is might decide to take you, too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She flipped her head and walked away from him, into the first chamber on the left. He followed. When she realized this, she pursed her lips together and punched her hands to her hips. “Please don’t start that again,” she said, referring to when he’d followed her home the other day.
“Did you not hear me?
” he pressed.
“No one is going to abduct me.”
“I’m certain Miss Eilbeck thought the same thing this morning.”
“Are you always this overbearing?”
“Are you always this insubordinate?”
They both shouted, “Yes!” at the same time in response.
Alastair was the first to allow his lips to quirk into something of a smile. “Will this affect your decision?”
She blinked at him. “My decision to what?”
There was a long pause. Alastair stared at her, his future bride, his independent little fury, and he knew he’d rather spend a lifetime arguing with her than have a lifetime of peace and quiet with someone else. “Your decision to marry me.”
There. That got her to be quiet. As a matter of fact, she seemed quite speechless, standing there, staring at him, her precious mouth agape. Damn, but he wanted to kiss those soft, pink lips. If only he didn’t think she’d slap him good for kissing her while her friend was missing.
“Is this…are you…” She looked away and took a deep breath before facing him again. “Is that your proposal, my lord?”
He feigned offense. “Good God, woman, what do you take me for? Of course it isn’t. I’ll have to ask your brother first, of course, and I would never think to propose in a haunted castle in the middle of a very serious hunt for my future wife’s very best friend.”
The corners of her lips twitched. “Well, my answer is no.”
Alastair felt as if someone had punched him squarely in the gut. He hadn’t even officially proposed yet, and she was already refusing his hand. Perhaps it was better he know sooner than later that she did not intend to marry him, but still…had he misread the signs? Had he misjudged their relations—
“Your overbearing manner will have no effect on my decision,” she finished, and Alastair almost missed it for the roaring in his ears.
“I beg your pardon?”
Daphne laughed, a tittering, lilting sound, and he realized she’d been teasing him. “Did I make you nervous, my lord?”
He closed the distance between them and gently took her face in his hands, bringing her mouth to his. He kissed her in a way he was certain she’d never been kissed before, delving his tongue deep into her mouth. Tasting her, loving her with every stroke, every belabored breath.
When he pulled away, he stared at her for a long moment, studying the beautiful face he’d come to love so much in such a short amount of time. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
The barest of smiles came to her lips. “Yes, my lord,” she said, breathlessly. And then she pushed against his chest, forcing him back a step or two. “Now, we must continue our search. Who knows what’s happened to poor Callie?”
They searched and searched and searched, moving from the East Wing to the West, then back again, retracing steps they’d already taken. There was no sign of her anywhere. When Braden had made the announcement in the garden that morning, Alastair hadn’t been terribly concerned. He figured Callie must have simply been tucked away in a quiet part of the house reading a book or picking flowers out in the gardens. But now, as the sun was beginning to set on the horizon, Alastair had to admit to the pit that was forming in his stomach, telling him something wasn’t right.
He looked to Daphne, who sat across from him in the carriage. He had to get her home before her brother began to worry, and certainly before the sun left them completely. He wasn’t even certain he wanted to stay in the castle tonight, but he’d most definitely not subject his delicate Daphne to whatever was going on there. It was enough she’d stayed the entire afternoon and worn herself down so with all their hunting.
It was a short trip from Marisdùn to her home, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving to the other side of the carriage to take the spot next to her. It was untoward of him, really, but then wasn’t he planning to marry her? And hadn’t she all but agreed to it, pending her brother’s approval?
She turned to him as he sat down beside her and gave a weak smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Alastair knew it was because she was concerned for her friend. And rightly so, though he wasn’t going to say that to her. She needed reassurance right now that Callie would be found whole and hearty.
Wordlessly, he reached out for her and pulled her into his arms. She collapsed willingly against him, and only then did Alastair realize she was shaking. He held her even more tightly and pressed his lips to the top of her head. She smelled of sugar and rum, just like her famous butter. It was a smell that Alastair loved and he was rather glad that very soon he’d get to smell her anytime he wanted.
She reached up to swipe away a tear. Alastair pulled back slightly and crooked his finger beneath her chin, tipping her face up so he could see her better.
“There, now,” he whispered. “I’m certain Miss Eilbeck is going to be all right.”
Daphne shook her head. “She’s gone,” she squeaked back.
Alastair wasn’t certain he could argue with that. She certainly wasn’t anywhere to be found in that castle. Though he was hesitant to believe the prevailing thought on the matter now: that the castle had taken her. It was foolishness, for sure. Perhaps Callie decided to run away from home. Or perhaps…
He couldn’t think of any more possibilities. And it didn’t matter anyway. They were pulling up to Daphne’s home.
John helped them down, and then Alastair walked her to the door.
“Will you be all right?” he asked, stroking a hand down her cheek.
She nodded. “Graham will be home soon, I’m certain. I think I will prepare a soothing tincture and go to bed.” Her eyes turned watery as she stared up at him. “Tomorrow is Sunday. I will go to church and pray for Callie.”
Alastair wasn’t terribly religious, but he thought that was a good idea. “I will remain at the castle. I promise I won’t rest until your friend is safe.”
Daphne flung herself into his arms, and he held her tightly against him for as long as she let him. Finally, she pulled back, gave him a wane smile, and then disappeared inside.
John waited behind him with the carriage, and Alastair was about to board when he saw a familiar figure walking toward him. He didn’t care to delay Mr. Alcott from getting home and seeing to his sister’s safety, but now seemed as good a time as any to ask for Daphne’s hand. Alastair didn’t want to go another day without some kind of promise between them.
He raised his hand in greeting. “Ho, there, Dr. Alcott,” he called when the man was close enough.
“Lord Wolverly,” Dr. Alcott replied, his gaze darting from the carriage to his home and back again. “What brings you here this evening?”
Alastair gestured to the pub across the street. “May I buy you a pint?”
The doctor hesitated a moment, but then nodded his head. “That would be most welcome after the day I’ve had.”
“I do hope everyone is all right,” Alastair said as he and the doctor walked side-by-side toward the pub.
“They are now, but I wasn’t so certain for a while.”
The pair walked into the near-empty pub and settled at a table in the corner. A barmaid brought them two pints at their request, and once Alastair had taken a healthy swig, he turned to the man who he hoped he’d be calling brother-in-law soon.
“I suppose you know why I asked you here,” he said.
The doctor nodded and gave a belabored sigh. “I think I have a good idea.”
“Your sister, she’s…” Alastair felt all at sea. He’d never even dreamed of proposing to anyone before, let alone asking for permission to do so. What was he supposed to say?
“Lord Wolverly,” Dr. Alcott began, but Alastair cut him off.
“Please. My friends call me Wolf.”
The doctor gave a wan smile. “And what does my sister call you?”
He hesitated a moment, and then admitted with an equally wan smile, “Alastair.”
“Well, Wolf, I suppose if we are to be brothers-in-law, you oug
ht to call me Graham.”
Alastair’s jaw dropped. Could it really have been that easy?
“My sister loves you, that much is obvious,” Graham went on. “And though I know little about you, I can see that not only are you an upstanding gentleman, but it’s obvious you love her too. And who I am to stand in the way of true love?”
“Your blessing means a great deal to me,” Alastair said, still wondering if there might be a catch coming.
“I’m afraid there is one problem, though.”
Ah. Here it was.
Graham leaned back in his chair with another heavy sigh. “She does not come with a dowry, and for that, I am very sorry.”
Alastair couldn’t help himself. He burst into laughter, both relieved and amused. “My interest in your sister has nothing to do with money, my friend.” He clapped a hand to Graham’s shoulder. “I promise your sister will want for nothing.”
A wave of relief seemed to wash over Graham. “Then welcome to the family, my lord.”
They clinked their tankards together and took a celebratory swig of their ales. But Alastair knew he couldn’t linger.
“I’m afraid I have to cut this meeting short, Graham.”
“Is something the matter?”
The doctor must have read the worry on his face. “As a matter of fact, yes.” He took a deep breath and leaned in, so as not to be overheard by the few that lingered in the pub. “Miss Eilbeck has gone missing.”
Graham set his tankard down and leaned in. “Missing?”
“I’m afraid so. That’s why Daphne was with me today, at Marisdùn . We’ve been searching the entire castle, all of us, since this morning.” He paused, sucking in a breath. “There’s no sign of her.”
“I should come with you, help you search.”
“No.” Alastair stayed him with a hand. “I need you to watch out for Daphne. Keep her safe. We don’t know what—or who—is out there. I don’t want her traipsing about the countryside alone until we know what’s happened.”
Graham nodded. “You will send word if you need us.”
“Of course.” He was about to get up, when a thought occurred to him. “Perhaps there is one other thing you can do.”