“Would you like to dance?” A man Leo had introduced her to earlier stood in front of her.
“Thank you. That would be lovely.”
One dance moved into another. Jocelyn suspected everyone wanted to gather information to add to the gossip vine, but she was politeness itself, exchanging pleasantries with each of the men who secured her hand for a dance. Finally, Jocelyn excused herself to visit the ladies’ retiring room. On the way back, she dawdled and, on seeing a set of open doors, sought brief respite from the constant surveillance of strangers.
Lit by torches, the gardens were wild and untamed compared to those at Merrivale, yet they bore a certain charm. She breathed in the scent of roses, the sweet perfume relaxing her and bringing a spurt of pleasure. Her mother would love to use these petals in her potions. Perhaps she could ask Hannah—no, maybe not.
“Don’t you think he has a nerve appearing in public, especially at a party at Hartscombe?” A woman’s tart voice carried on the night air. “Sherbourne is a murderer.”
Jocelyn came to an abrupt halt, her heart jumping in a noisy thump-thump.
“I daresay Hannah and Peregrine thought they had to invite him. I mean, they used to be related by marriage,” a man drawled, amusement clear in his lazy tone.
“But he murdered her,” the woman snapped. “If I were his new wife, I’d worry about my safety.”
Jocelyn caught back a gasp, her hand fluttering at her breast.
“The officials cleared his name,” the man said.
A tinkle of laughter came from the woman. “He paid them off.”
“Maybe,” the man mused. “He certainly had reason to rid himself of Ursula. No man wants a wife who cuckolds him.”
The voices sounded closer and, afraid of discovery, Jocelyn ducked off the path and pressed into a corner. Luckily, she blended into the shadows. A rose branch dug into her arm, the jab of thorns piercing her long gloves. Wincing, she froze and prayed the couple wouldn’t linger.
“Do you think the child is his?” the woman asked.
“It’s difficult to say since she takes after her mother. Only Leo would know the truth.”
“What do you think of his new wife?”
Jocelyn’s breath hitched when they paused mere feet away. Please don’t let them catch me eavesdropping.
“She’s plain,” the man said. “But with good lines. Leo has a discerning eye.”
“Discerning…she has bright red hair and is covered in freckles!”
“You have no imagination, my dear.” His voice lowered to a seductive croon. “All that fire combined with a pleasing figure. I’d wager she’ll breed well.”
Jocelyn bit back her instinctive cry of protest. The man was talking about her as if she were a prize broodmare.
“Do you know anything about her? How did he meet her? Do you think she is with child?”
“All I know is that Leo went to London to visit his cousin and returned with a wife. Hannah is beside herself,” the man said with a touch of malice. “She might cease her snobbish manner and accept one of the local men now that Leo is out of circulation.”
“Perhaps,” the woman said.
To Jocelyn’s relief, they recommenced their ramble through the garden and, after a few minutes, she could no longer hear them. Cautiously she detached herself from the rose bush and crept from hiding. She reached the house without meeting anyone else.
In the salon, she searched for Leo and finally located him on the dance floor with Hannah. The other woman appeared happy and free of her normal spiteful air. Leo, on the other hand, didn’t appear quite as pleased. His mouth was pinched as he went through the steps.
“You’ll have to watch that one,” an elderly woman said.
Jocelyn turned to face a tiny woman dressed in the fashions of twenty years prior.
The woman let out a rusty cackle on searching Jocelyn’s expression. “Come, escort me to a chair. My legs aren’t what they used to be.”
Hiding her amusement, Jocelyn allowed the elderly woman to lean on her arm. She led her over to a grouping of chairs overlooking the dance floor.
“Sit, sit,” the woman said, once Jocelyn had seated her. She clicked her fingers at a footman. “Bring us two glasses of punch.”
Jocelyn joined the woman and arranged her green skirts so they wouldn’t crease.
“Did you know Hannah fancied herself as the next mistress of Merrivale?”
“So I understand,” Jocelyn said cautiously, accepting a glass of punch from the footman on his return. “Thank you.”
“I knew Leo was smart, but I didn’t see another marriage coming so quickly. Are you breeding?”
Jocelyn blinked and sipped her punch to give herself time to reformulate her instinctive retort about manners.
“Don’t be reticent, girl. Can’t stand young misses who don’t have opinions of their own.”
Jocelyn met the nosy woman’s gaze with a direct one of her own. “No, I’m not with child.”
“Was it a love match?”
“Yes,” Jocelyn lied, realizing anything she said could make the rounds of the village. “Leo is a wonderful man. I’m sorry, but I don’t recall your name. I’ve met so many people tonight.”
The elderly woman reminded her of an alert bird, her bark of laughter like a warning squawk, attracting the attention of several women standing in the vicinity. “I’m Lady March, Hannah and Peregrine’s godmother.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t spread dubious rumors, girl. I’ve always liked Leo—a handsome rogue, that one.” She made a humming sound. “Yes, I think you’ll do well together. You have a head on your shoulders. Not flighty.”
“Thank you.”
The dance ended, and Leo joined them.
“Lady March, you’re looking well.” He bent to kiss her wrinkled cheek, and Jocelyn saw he was genuinely pleased to see the elderly woman. Some of her tension dispersed when he pulled up a chair to join them.
“Aren’t you going to ask your wife to dance?” Lady March asked.
“After we’ve spent time chatting with you,” Leo said.
Lady March clapped her hands together in girlish delight. “Do you have any good gossip? I do so like to know what is happening in the district.”
“As long as it isn’t about me,” Leo said drily, eliciting a cackle from Lady March.
“Pooh, where is the fun in that? I wanted to ask about your wife’s mother.” Her lips pursed. “I’ve heard rumors from Hannah and Peregrine.”
Leo grunted. “I can imagine.”
“My mother has times where she becomes confused,” Jocelyn said stiffly. “She requires rest.”
“Hannah told me she shrieks like a banshee,” Lady March said.
“Hannah is rude.” Leo’s reply was curt.
Lady March cackled again. “Age gives me advantages, my boy. I can say what I think, and no one takes me to task.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you think your mother would welcome a visit from me?”
“Thank you for the suggestion, but my mother is going through a bad patch at present.” A pang cut Jocelyn at the admission. It was for the best. The last thing they needed was for her mother to confide about Jocelyn’s past.
“I think she’d enjoy a visit because you have a lot in common,” Leo said. “Send word before you come to make sure she is up to receiving guests.”
Lady March nodded. “I’ll do that.”
A footman materialized in front of Leo and handed him a message. Leo scanned the contents. “Have the carriage brought around.” He turned to Jocelyn. “We’ll leave immediately.”
“Is something wrong?” Lady March asked.
“We have a problem to attend to at home.”
Worry bubbled up in Jocelyn as Leo helped her rise from her chair. “Is it Mother?”
“I’ll explain everything in the carriage.”
Jocelyn swallowed her alarm. It was difficult acceding control to Leo when in the past the responsibility had fall
en to her. “It was lovely to meet you, Lady March.”
“I like your wife, Leo. You’ve chosen well.”
Leo studied Jocelyn for an instant, his gaze warm. “I think so.”
When Leo exerted charm in this manner, it was easy to forget her concerns.
“Surely you’re not leaving?” Hannah asked, appearing behind them without warning. “Father was saying he hasn’t had a chance to speak with you yet.”
“I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” Jocelyn said before Leo could answer.
“Leo could send you home in the carriage,” Hannah said.
“I don’t think so,” Leo said. “I want to make sure Jocelyn reaches home safely.” He didn’t give Hannah a chance to argue. “Thanks for inviting us, Hannah. We’ll say goodbye to your parents on the way out.”
Jocelyn caught the ripple of interest, imagined the guests’ thoughts. In truth she was glad they were leaving because she had much to consider. It seemed everyone was convinced Leo was a murderer, and she couldn’t help the shiver of foreboding that slipped down her spine. Someone was murdering poor, unfortunate women and spiriting away others. All the signs still pointed to her husband.
Chapter Eight
After they said their goodbyes, Leo hustled her to the carriage.
Jocelyn’s mind danced over the possibilities, each one worse than the next. Terror made her shake, the punch she’d drunk earlier sloshing uneasily in the pit of her stomach. When Leo settled beside her in the carriage, she clutched his arm. “Is it Mother?”
“She’s missing,” Leo said. “Woodley has organized a search party, but they thought we should know.”
Fear tightened her chest, and she had to force herself to breathe. “It’s unlike Mother to leave the house at night. She doesn’t like the dark.” Another thought occurred. “Do you think someone has kidnapped her? Like Ella?”
“I’m afraid the note didn’t say much.” Leo threaded his fingers through hers and placed her hand in his lap. “They’ll find your mother before we reach the manor.”
“I hope so.” She didn’t have a good feeling about this.
“You disappeared for a while,” Leo said.
“Ah, yes.” A frisson swept her as she recalled the woman’s words. She feared for Jocelyn’s safety. Oh dear. What should she tell Leo? Her eavesdropping didn’t show her in a good light. “I went for a walk in the garden,” she said finally.
“Alone?” His question fired at her like a pistol, and her anxiety ramped up another notch. Surely he didn’t suspect her of meeting with another man? Her shoulders slumped. Of course he did. He was judging her by his first wife’s standards. He probably didn’t even realize, but this early in their marriage she’d make allowances and give him time to understand she’d never betray him—as long as he was innocent of murder.
“I needed a break from the intense scrutiny. Everyone kept staring at me.” Now she was starting to babble when she needed to remain matter-of-fact. She needed to placate him. Reassure him she was nothing like his first wife.
“And?” There was a clear edge to his voice.
“I heard a couple talking out in the garden.”
“You eavesdropped?” Now he sounded disbelieving, definitely disapproving.
“Um…yes.” Not her finest moment. She wished she could scrub her mind clean, but now that she’d overheard accusations of murder…
“Yes, what?” His tone hovered close to snappish, and she tugged her hand free.
“Yes, I’m guilty of eavesdropping on a private conversation.” Her words echoed in the silence of the carriage, crisp and tinged with anger. She took another breath, willing herself to relax. She was acting exactly like him, jumping to conclusions. The parish constable hadn’t arrested Leo for murder, and trust needed to go both ways.
“You might as well tell me, Jocelyn.”
She hesitated, wishing she could see his expression. “The couple intimated that you murdered your first wife.”
Silence fell—an uneasy one.
“Do you think they’ll have found my mother by the time we arrive at the manor?” She repeated her earlier question, desperate to change the subject. She didn’t need to give him ideas about murder.
“Do you believe them?” Leo asked finally, his voice devoid of nuance.
“I didn’t mean to snoop. It happened by accident because I was too embarrassed to show myself. It wasn’t well done.” And she hadn’t answered his question. Disquiet rippled through her as she waited for more questions. Relief when they didn’t come allowed the tension to ease from her muscles.
“What else did they say?”
He’d noticed the way she’d prevaricated. It was clear from his clipped words. “They…implied you murdered your wife and paid off officials to avoid imprisonment.”
“Is that all?”
Again Jocelyn wished she could see Leo’s expression. “They talked about Hannah and how she thought she’d marry you once the mourning period ended.”
“I see.”
Jocelyn wished she could see. She didn’t understand a thing. While she didn’t know Leo well, the things she’d learned showed a good man. He was generous with her mother and a kind and lusty lover to her. While he was distant with Cassie, he didn’t neglect his daughter. He might have remarried a short time after the death of his first wife, but that didn’t make him a bad man. He’d wanted a mother for his daughter.
But some people were adept at covering their true characters, and that was the confusing part.
The springs creaked when he shifted his weight, and her pulse suddenly raced. As the silence grew, more questions formed in Jocelyn’s mind. She kept returning to the same one. What had really happened to Ursula?
For peace of mind, she needed to learn more about her without providing fodder for gossip or upsetting Leo. Whether the answers she found would help—
What if she discovered Leo was responsible? No, she shouldn’t pursue this matter. “Do you think they’ll have found Mother by now?”
“I hope so,” Leo said.
She swallowed at his harshness and wanted to say something to placate him yet her doubts and uncertainties wouldn’t let her offer the support.
Finally the carriage pulled up in front of the manor. Leo pushed the door open and leapt out before turning to aid her descent.
The manor was ablaze with light, and Jocelyn’s heart sank. Obviously, they hadn’t located her mother. Shouts rang out, some close and others more distant. Lights bobbed in the garden, indicating the progress of searchers.
“You’re back,” Tilly said in clear relief. “I’m sorry, Jocelyn. Your mother retired with a headache. I gave her a powder and looked in on her several times. She was asleep when I made a final check before I retired for the evening. The maids, Mrs. Green and I have searched the manor from top to bottom.” She wrung her hands in clear agitation.
“When did you become aware she was missing?” Leo asked. “What made you check on her?”
“Mrs. Green heard a noise and thought it was a footman sneaking around with one of her maids. When she went downstairs, she discovered the front door wide open. She notified Woodley. When we discovered Elizabeth missing, we commenced a search.”
“When was that?” Leo asked.
“Almost three hours ago.”
“Three hours!” Jocelyn exclaimed.
Tilly shot her a look of apology. “We thought we’d find her without difficulty. You know how she wanders off. We’ve always found her in short order.” Tilly clutched a handful of her skirts, twisting and tugging the fabric. “No one has seen Elizabeth. It’s as if someone has spirited her away.” Unspoken was the fear that this was a repeat of Ella’s disappearance.
“Where is Susan? Is she all right?” Jocelyn asked.
“She’s in your chamber, awaiting your arrival,” Tilly said.
Jocelyn nodded. “I’ll get Mrs. Green to check on her.”
“Jocelyn, I want you to search the house again,” Leo s
aid, after returning from speaking to several of the servants. “I’ll help the men outdoors.”
“But I can help—”
“Please, Jocelyn. I don’t want to worry about you too. I’ll send word as soon as we find her.”
Jocelyn watched Leo stride away and told herself her mother had wandered off. She’d keep telling herself that because the alternative was unspeakable. Yes, if her mother had strolled out of the gardens to the moor she’d be frightened. Cold. The thought galvanized her to action. “Blankets. Warm bricks. Come, Tilly. We’ll prepare for my mother’s return and do another search of the house.”
Leo grabbed a lamp and located Woodley. Wisely, Woodley had sent footmen in various directions and stayed near the stables to coordinate.
“Any luck?” Leo asked.
“No. We’ve combed the house, the stable area and most of the gardens. One of the footmen found a scrap of white cloth snared on a branch. We’re not sure if it belongs to Mrs. Townsend or not.”
“Where was it found?”
“Near the walled garden.”
Frighteningly close to the gate leading into the moor. “It’s time to hunt farther afield.”
Woodley nodded. “Which areas should I send the footmen to search? Some of the locals have arrived to help too.”
Foreboding swept Leo, memories of Ursula swamping him, the sense of helplessness, the knowledge everyone suspected him. “I’ll scan along the riverbank to the west. Tell the next group of men who report back to you to check the shore from the east. If we don’t find her near the river we’ll spread out and start to scour the moor.”
Leo held his lamp high, his gaze sweeping the area as he strode through the garden to the river. “Elizabeth!”
God, he hoped they located her soon. If she’d wandered onto the moors they might never find her. As it was, they’d need to wait for first light to search the open ground. There were dangerous bogs nearby that were nigh impossible to navigate during the day. They’d likely lose men if they attempted to look now.
He thought of the missing maid and rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension flooding his mind and body. Although Elizabeth’s moods were unpredictable he couldn’t think why she’d leave the manor in the middle of the night.
Mistress of Merrivale Page 12