The Vanishing at Loxby Manor

by Abigail Wilson

  I touched my forehead. “Won’t there be a scandal?”

  “Not if I can squelch it or head it off. I do have a plan.”

  A plan, hmm? I waited for her to say more, but she rose and made her way to the fireplace and poked the logs.

  She angled her shoulders to steal a glance back at me. “What about you? Any special gentlemen you met at a ball? If you even had those in Ceylon.”

  I cringed as the memories of the dreaded house parties I’d been forced to attend on those blustery summer nights came to mind. Goodness, how I’d hated them.

  “If you remember, I have great difficulty hearing and understanding people in crowded spaces. It’s an affliction I’ve suffered since birth. Everyone’s voices jumble together, particularly with the instrumentalists present, until the sounds form nothing but a mess of words and notes. Trust me, when a gentleman did take pity on me and asked for a dance, I hadn’t the least idea what he’d said during the set to make conversation. I must have come across as dull as ditchwater, for I was rarely asked for a second dance. After all, nodding and smiling can only get you so far.”

  There was a beat of silence, and then she said dryly, “You poor dear. I do recall you struggling with something of the sort. At any rate, I remember how Avery used to tease you mercilessly when you misunderstood what was said, though you can’t entirely blame him as you quite often did.”

  “Neither of your brothers had much patience with me.”

  “Well, the good news is Avery is in as much hot water as me at present. He was rusticated from university just last week. In fact, Piers was so angry he dashed off a letter informing us he means to arrive tomorrow. Can you believe it? With any luck my little indiscretion with Miles should slip quite nicely under the rug, particularly if I have a certain announcement to make.”

  My heart dropped. “Piers will be here tomorrow? I thought he hadn’t returned home in five years.”

  How I wished my voice hadn’t cracked, for Seline rounded on me, her eyes flashing. “Don’t tell me you’re still harboring that ridiculous calf-love you always had for my brother.”

  “Certainly not.” Not after he’d ended our secret relationship in one cryptic letter, the first and only one I received from him. “I was just surprised to hear he was coming home is all.”

  She crossed her arms. “It was a shock to all of us, believe me. He’s been hiding for so long at Grandmama’s old cottage outside Liverpool, we thought he’d never return. At least I hoped he wouldn’t.”

  “Why did he go to Liverpool?”

  I’d spoken too quickly. Seline darted another knowing glance. “Why, the scandal of course. He can’t face the shame of his public disgrace.”

  I stifled a gasp. Seline and Avery had written me a handful of letters over the years, and none mentioned one word about a scandal. Thoughts raced through my mind—cheating at cards, an illicit affair, a brawl—but nothing made any sense, not about Piers. He could never stoop to anything of the sort. Of course he had easily walked away from our relationship. Had I ever really known him?

  I drew my arms in close. “What do you mean . . . a scandal?”

  She glared at me as if testing the motivation for my question. “I suppose you wouldn’t know, isolated as you were. It happened right around the time you left for Ceylon.” She flicked her fingers in the air. “You remember when Lord Kendal and I got rather silly that one day, and I allowed him to touch my ankle?”

  I dipped my chin. “How could I forget?”

  “Well, Lord Kendal had the gauche to boast about our silliness at White’s, and Piers caught wind of it. He got so angry he called Kendal out on the spot, only my illustrious brother never bothered to show up for the duel. Kendal declared him a coward that very day, and rightly so. Piers wouldn’t even give a reason for his absence. I was never so embarrassed in my life.”

  The room blurred. Piers a coward? Why on earth wouldn’t he show up for a duel he’d arranged? I lightly shook my head as a strong chin and a pair of resolute blue eyes came to mind. Surely there was some sort of mistake.

  Seline went on, ignorant of the shock coursing through my body. “Piers received the cut direct first in London then everywhere else. He is completely beyond the pale at this point, and I decided years ago to have nothing to do with him. I’m certain Piers’s disgrace is at the heart of why Lord Kendal never offered for me. My brother’s absolute cowardice has left a blight on this entire family. Mama can hardly bear to be in the same room with him. Her hopes are all with Avery now. If only Papa will change his will before the end and leave Loxby to Avery, this family might come about.”

  I looked up at the mention of her father. My mother had warned me about Mr. Cavanagh’s accident. “How is your papa?”

  She expelled a weighted sigh. “Not well at all. He spends most of his time in bed.” She gave me a sideways glance. “His vision never did return.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear.” Mr. Cavanagh had always been such a kind, thoughtful man. I could hardly imagine him confined to his bed, blinded by a kick from a horse.

  Seline paced the rug as if she anticipated the ceiling to fall, her attention on each wall she faced as she turned. “And what about your parents?”

  “They are well, extremely proud of the work my brother is doing in Boston. Arthur is a chemist. His work has even been lauded by the government.”

  “Oh.” She paused by the window. “Is there a reason why they didn’t take you with them to America?”

  “Mama thought I might do better here.” I studied the creases on my palm.

  “Or perhaps she thought I might find you a husband and take you off their hands.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Something like that.”

  “You know, I think it a glorious idea. We have so many eligible gentlemen in the area.” She clapped her hands. “Oh yes. Tony Shaw or Hugh Daunt shall do nicely for you. They’ve never been all that picky when it comes to looks. And you do have a little dowry.”

  I knew Seline hadn’t meant to insult me, but her words stung. Of course she was right. I could hardly be called pretty. Plain, more like. Mousy brown hair, dull brown eyes, freckles. I was decidedly forgettable. The closest I’d received to a compliment was when old Colonel Baynes had referred to me as a taking little thing. Granted, he wasn’t wearing his spectacles at the time.

  The sound of a scuffle drew my attention to the corner of the room where I caught a flash of white. “What was that?”

  Seline followed me to the far side of the bed where I leaned down to peek beneath the bedside table. There in the shadows hid a snowy white cat. Carefully I reached underneath the table and was rewarded with a touch of soft, velvet fur. The cat hesitated at first, but soon enough she allowed me to scoop her into my arms.

  I turned to Seline, cradling the animal. “What a darling.”

  Seline waved her arms in the air as I approached. “Get that curst thing away from me. I cannot tolerate animals. Mama banished the beast from the house, but she keeps finding her way back inside, if for no other reason than to terrorize me.”

  The cat nestled her head against my shoulder, a low purr vibrating against my chest.

  Seline seemed to shiver as she backed away. “Hugh should have known I would hate it when he gifted her to me last year.” Her voice lightened. “You remember Hugh, don’t you? He lives on an estate just to the south.”

  Certainly I remembered Hugh. She’d mentioned him as a possible suitor for me just moments ago—one of the less picky ones. He’d also been a staple at our pretend garden parties. It seemed he hadn’t lost the affection he’d acquired the day he and Seline spent at the river. “Is he still a good friend of yours?”

  “A silly one, but a friend nonetheless.”

  There was an edge to her voice that had seemed to grow over the course of the conversation. She wandered to the window again, this time thrusting back the drapes. She fell motionless for a split second, and then her mouth fell open.

  “Oh my go
odness. He must have returned sooner than I thought.”

  She was breathless as she spun back against the wall. “What shall I do? He’ll hear about Miles and everything I’ve planned will be lost.” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless . . .”

  I laid the cat on the bed. “Unless what? He who?”

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks, her gaze darting around the room. “It might work. It just might work.” She stalked over and grasped my shoulders. “Stay here, and you must tell no one you’ve seen me this evening. Do you understand?”

  I glanced at the darkened window. “Why? What do you mean to do at this hour? Who are you talking about returning home?”

  “I cannot say at present, but I believe it will prove just the thing.” She snapped her fingers. “Quickly, have you a black cloak in your wardrobe?”

  “A cloak? Never tell me you mean to leave the house.”

  “All right, I won’t tell you.” She scampered to the looking glass, her fingers wild in her hair as she tugged and pulled each errant strand back into place.

  I stood helplessly in the center of the rug, holding my hands out in front of me. “Seline?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, a sly smile across her face. “So do you have the cloak or not?”

  “I do in my trunk, but I cannot let you leave the house, not like this.”

  “Don’t be such a prude. It’s not like I haven’t gone out at night alone before. I know full well what I’m doing.” She laughed. “Besides, I haven’t much of a reputation left to protect.” Then her face changed, and she crossed her arms. “Listen, I do not dare risk a return to my room, and the back stairs are so wonderfully close to yours. Either you give me the cloak or I’ll fish it from your trunk myself. I’m running out of time.”

  She knelt on the floor and swung open the trunk’s lid. Caught up in a misguided desire to help my friend, I found myself kneeling beside her, pawing through my things. I was forced to remove several garments before locating the long black cloak I hadn’t used in years.

  She grasped it from my hand. “Charity, you are the dearest dear. I shall never forget your kindness. I promise to find you the perfect husband soon enough. You’ll see.” She touched my cheek, pushed to her feet, then slung the cloak over her shoulders, flipping the hood over her golden hair. She fumbled with the collar. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, that’s my brooch.”

  “It’s pretty.” She fastened it beneath her chin.

  “Please be careful with it. It was my grandmother’s. She had one of my grandfather’s favorite collar jewels fashioned into it.”

  “You needn’t worry. I’ll take good care of it.” She flashed me a smile. “If everything goes according to plan, my whole life changes tonight. Mama will be so pleased. She’ll regret the day she ever called me an ungrateful wretch.” She seemed almost weightless as she bounded to the door.

  “Please.” My stomach clenched, and all at once I couldn’t let her leave. I grabbed her arm. “I don’t care how many times you’ve gone out alone. A lady should never do so, particularly at night. You could be assaulted or worse.”

  “Don’t be absurd, not in East Whitloe. You’ve been reading too many novels.”

  An ache swelled in the back of my throat. If only it was just the novels. I went on, miserably aware of the pain seeping into my words. “Please, you don’t understand.”

  She wriggled out of my grasp, a coy bend to her shrug. “Besides, I won’t even be alone.”

  I stood breathless as she hesitated at the door for one final statement. “Wish me luck. I won’t be long.”

  I didn’t even have a chance to reply before the door closed and the room fell empty around me, the casement clock ticking away an uncomfortable silence. I stood like that for several seconds, trying to make sense of why Seline had darted from my room, before returning to the open drapes.

  What had Seline seen through the darkness that set her off? I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, scanning the moonlit garden and the west lawn beyond.

  Twinkling on the horizon, at the jagged tip of a nearby hill, something did catch my eye. A light, wavering in the evening breeze like a solitary ember fanned to life one breath at a time.

  Hardly anything was left of the curved stone cloisters of Kinwich Abbey, but I recognized the glowing remains straightaway—a lonely remnant of another time, another place. The people who lived around the village of East Whitloe believed the ruins of the old abbey still housed the ghostly spirit of a monk who once lived there. As girls, Seline and I had been too scared to venture anywhere near the rubble.

  I shook my head. Seline and I were girls no longer. My hand inched over my lips as I stared into the abyss. Whoever placed that light within the cloisters had drawn Seline racing from the house to meet them.

  Chapter 2

  I ate the supper on my tray by the bow window as I listened to the ebb and flow of the wind, my gaze glued to the light flickering amid the ruins of Kinwich Abbey. Who exactly had Seline scrambled from the house to meet, and what on earth did she have planned?

  I tucked my feet beneath my nightgown and tipped my head against the window’s hard wooden frame. June’s daytime warmth had vanished with the sun and ushered in the cool, layered depths of nightfall in the countryside. Nearby tree branches whipped back and forth in the moonlight while the growing gusts charged against Loxby’s ancient stones.

  The wind had always fascinated me. I suppose it was the pure relentlessness of it. Heaven’s invisible hand sweeping over the world. Sometimes it was as light as a feathered touch, a soft whisper on my skin, and other times a fevered fury that left nothing untouched. My father once explained that the wind was a promise of things to come. He said all we needed to do was listen to its call.

  Another strong gust pounded the wall and my heart lurched. It was not an evening to be out and about. Why had I ever let Seline leave?

  As I sat quivering on the window seat, still exhausted from the events of the day, the hours stretched on endlessly. The remains of my supper grew cold on the tray. Yet I could not abandon my post, not when Seline was out there somewhere in the gloom. I glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. Eleven thirty. Where on earth could she be? Whatever she had planned, she hadn’t indicated it would take all that long.

  A great deal of time had passed since she escaped my room, yet the strange beacon on the hill remained fixed in place. The impulse to leave the house and initiate a search wavered in and out of my mind, charging my nerves for flight. But it had been so long since I’d ventured into Loxby’s expansive woods, and I’d promised myself in Ceylon that I’d never be so foolish about my surroundings again. Besides, I had little chance of finding my way in the darkness. I pressed the palm of my hand to my forehead. Why had I ever agreed to her ridiculousness?

  The pit-pat of rain tickled the window, and I sat up just in time to see the light on the hill jolt and weave.

  I pushed the drapes aside and pressed in close. The dithering glow seemed to vacillate then split in two, the smaller light bobbing its way toward Loxby, while the larger simply disappeared into the opposing hillside.

  I kept my focus on the small glow as it crawled toward the house, dipping in and out of the trees, up and over the gradual curve of the land. I was forced to wait several minutes until a dimly lit figure scampered across the rose garden and I was rewarded by the outline of a black cloak.

  I released a trapped breath. The onset of the drizzle must have sent Seline scurrying back to the house. Thank goodness. I sat for a moment, then took a few relieved steps onto the rug.

  A door slammed somewhere in the distance, and Loxby’s old walls seemed to groan in response. Muffled footsteps resonated through the twisting corridors of the ground floor, and then an unexpected silence took hold.

  I stood for some time in the center of my room completely still, straining to hear the least movement beyond my door. But the quiet was deafening. Slowly, the hair began to rise on my arms.

>   Seline would have to venture back this way. The side stairs were the fastest and easiest way to the family wing. I inched to my bedchamber door and cracked it open, peering into the blackened hall. Surely it would only be a moment before my dear friend crested the stairs and I could calm my frantic heart.

  “Seline,” I whispered into the gloom.

  Nothing.

  I tied my dressing gown a bit tighter about my waist and tiptoed to the edge of the steps. “Seline.”

  Again, nothing but my heartbeat throbbing against my ears.

  Where was she? I stared down the curved stairwell then fleetingly at my bedchamber door. It was possible she had taken an alternate way to her room. Perhaps she did not wish to discuss anything further with me tonight. I knit my brow—that is, if it was indeed Seline who had entered the house. My chest tightened.

  I would never sleep if I didn’t find out for certain.

  Seline had occupied the same bedchamber at Loxby for all the years I knew her. Perhaps a quick peek in her room would ease my mind, and then I could make my way back to bed. The silvery haze of moonlight would be ample to guide my slippered steps. I secured the ribbons on my robe and turned down the main corridor.

  Little had changed at the manor house in the years I’d been away—the same floor-length paintings hung in the hall, the sparse furniture with a flair for the Orient, the familiar white wainscoting that appeared gray in the dim light—every inch conjured a memory from my past.

  It didn’t even occur to me that I might need to be cautious until I heard a cough a few paces from the door to Seline’s room.

  Not any cough, mind you—a deep, manly cough. My gaze snapped to my robe. Heaven help me if I’d stumbled onto Baker or one of the servants. I was scarcely presentable. And worse, it could just as easily be one of the other inhabitants of Loxby Manor.

  I grimaced at the thought. Now was a particularly awkward time for a reunion. I plunged behind the velvet drapes at the L in the hall seconds before the moving shadow clambered into view around the far corner.

  From the fold of the curtains I was able to catch a glimpse of the candlelit figure as he took shape in the long corridor. Broad shoulders, medium build, dark hair, lanky gait.