The Vanishing at Loxby Manor

by Abigail Wilson

  Avery.

  My shoulders relaxed, and I pressed my palm to my heart. I’d forgotten Seline said he’d been rusticated from school. Relieved, I nearly vacated my hiding spot, but I realized all too quickly I was in no condition to meet an old friend. Tomorrow would be better.

  I held as still as possible as Avery, thankfully unaware of my presence, simply lumbered down the far hall and disappeared from sight. I allowed several more seconds to pass to be certain he had indeed retired to his room.

  That’s when I heard it. Another set of heavy footsteps, pounding toward me from around the corner of the dark corridor.

  Someone else was up and about without a candle, and it wasn’t Seline. I leaned against the window casement and closed my eyes. The pant of heavy breathing seemed to echo down the quiet hall. My skin crawled.

  Tap, whoosh. Tap, whoosh.

  The nature of the person’s tread was strangely uneven, almost as if the individual dragged something behind him. The prickling fingers of fear scurried across my chest, tightening every muscle one by one as my memories of Ceylon threatened.

  Tap, whoosh. Tap, whoosh.

  Whoever it was, he was achingly close. Run! My feet itched to escape, but I gripped the edge of the wainscoting, willing myself to stay in place. It was probably just a servant—the butler or a maid—and they were simply doing their job.

  I tried to breathe like my mother had taught me to whenever I imagined things differently from what they actually were. “Everyone is not out to assault you. I promise it will get easier, Charity,” she’d remind me time and again. And she was right . . . about part of it. Time had dulled the pain my attacker left in his wake, but the wound would never fully heal, not when it was filled so deeply with grief.

  It took several minutes for the sounds to drift away and my muscles to slacken and my pulse to slow, even longer for me to allow the silence of the hall to calm me.

  Carefully I tugged open the drapes to find an empty corridor beyond the thick fabric. A quick look both directions, and I was relieved to see I was indeed alone. I rushed straight into Seline’s bedchamber, sealing the door behind me without a sound.

  Much of the yellow room lay as it always had. Heavy mahogany furniture dotting the various walls and a lovely poster bed with gauzy white curtains. I crept forward before resting for a soothing moment on the edge of Seline’s crème coverlet.

  She was nowhere to be found.

  I looked around in confusion. She had said nothing about staying out the entirety of the night, nor did I believe she would ever do such a thing, not after all she’d revealed about her situation with Miles. I raked the ribbons on my nightgown through my fingers.

  Though Seline told me Mrs. Cavanagh had been angry with her earlier in the evening, her mother would certainly want to know that her only daughter was not in her bed, particularly at this hour. I’d promised Seline my silence, but her continued absence was not something to take lightly. The strange footsteps I’d heard pounded over and over again in my head. She could very well be in trouble.

  Recollections flashed through my mind as I debated my next move. If only someone had come looking for me that night in Ceylon, so much would have been different. The thought drove me to my feet. Mrs. Cavanagh must be told and straightaway.

  I dashed from Seline’s room and down the corridor to the long family wing without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t until I stood before Mrs. Cavanagh’s door, my hand poised to knock, that a fresh wave of nerves sparked to life. I’d not seen Seline’s mother in five years, and she had always been terribly proper. What would she think of me, pounding on her door in the middle of the night, forcing her from her bed? Would she brand me as an aid in Seline’s flight from the house?

  I swallowed hard and knocked.

  The door thrust inward far more quickly than I had anticipated. Mrs. Cavanagh’s hand flew to her chest. “Why, Miss Halliwell! What are you about at such an hour?” Her handkerchief trembled as she dabbed her face.

  From the looks of her rumpled evening gown, she’d not been to bed. What mother could sleep after learning of a scandal that involved her own daughter? She’d had such high hopes for Seline. Even in our youth she paraded her about, a living trophy of wealth and privilege.

  I rubbed my arms. What I was about to tell her would only make her evening worse.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Cavanagh, but I’m terribly worried. I’ve come about Seline.”

  “Seline!” Her eyes flashed, and she shoved the door open wide. “What now, child?” A moment’s hesitation, then she yanked me into her bedchamber. She cast a weary glance over the hall before slamming the door shut.

  I was directed into her private sitting room with a half-hearted gesture of hospitality, which she quickly betrayed with the emergence of a scowl.

  The large apartment was a lavish affair, full of deep purples and sumptuous pinks. I couldn’t help but take in the complexities of the room as I spoke. “Again, I am sorry to disturb you at such an advanced hour, but it is urgent.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh cast a shrewd peek at her clock. “I must say, I’m surprised to find you still awake after such a long journey. I vow you young people shall never cease to amaze me.”

  “Seline came to see me earlier this evening.”

  “She did, did she?”

  “We talked for a bit, and then quite suddenly she told me she meant to leave the house. I tried to stop her, but . . .”

  Mrs. Cavanagh’s eyes narrowed as a flush lit her cheeks. “What do you mean . . . left the house? At night, my gel? Are you mad?”

  “I assure you, I am quite lucid. When Seline came to my room, she was terribly distraught about what happened earlier today.” My throat felt suddenly dry. “I-I’m at a loss as to where she intended to go, only there was this light we saw out my window and she decided—”

  “You mean to tell me she left the house alone?” She fanned her face with her hand. “Oh, dear me, I’m feeling faint.” She glanced around madly before collapsing into a chair. “Avery must be sent for at once.”

  She twisted her hands together as if washing them in the air. “You don’t think she went to see him, do you? No, no, she would not do such a thing to me, not after everything.” She tugged on her ear as if it might soothe her nerves as she rocked back and forth in her chair. “Avery’s the only one who can possibly keep this wretched scandal at bay. I only hope he’s returned from town.”

  I lifted my voice. “He has.”

  Her focus snapped to me, and I realized a bit too late how such an admission must sound. I stumbled over my next words. “I only know because I saw him just moments ago in the hall, walking to his room, I assume.”

  She cast a rather daring look at my nightgown, and I added quickly, “Good heavens, I didn’t allow him to see me like this. I made certain of that.”

  She jerked the bell pull, her hand quivering in the firelight. “Well, at any rate, he must be sent for at once.” Her fingers lingered on the embroidered rope for a moment as she stared into the shadows of the room. She gave it a quick tug, then slowly she turned to face me, her green eyes narrow, her jaw set. “I suppose Seline told you all.”

  It was difficult to find my voice, trapped as I was in her piercing gaze. “She told me about Miles Lacy if that is what you mean.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh crunched forward, dipping her chin into her chest. “And I can only hope you realize how important discretion is at such a moment.”

  “Certainly.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as I knelt beside her. “Seline has always been one of my dearest friends. I would never say anything to hurt her or anyone else in this family.”

  She lowered her eyelids. “That is good to hear.” She curled her icy fingers around my hand. “Tell me, did Seline say anything that might help us ascertain where she meant to go this evening? I can only assume it was to see that horrid stable boy.”

  “As I said before, we saw a strange light in the valley through my bedcham
ber window. It must have meant something to her.”

  “I see. Another liaison perhaps.”

  A knock sounded at the door and Mrs. Cavanagh nearly jumped out of her skin. Her voice erupted from between her narrow lips. “Come.”

  An elderly woman in a dark blue dress sidled through the open door. “Yes, ma’am. You rang?”

  “Harriet.” Mrs. Cavanagh’s voice turned distant. “Summon Avery to my sitting area at once.”

  The dark color of the maid’s clothes sparked a memory. “Oh!” I squeezed Mrs. Cavanagh’s hand. “There was something else.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh’s arm shot up, silencing me with a flick of her wrist until the maid had left and the door was sealed. Then she gave me a hard smile. “My dear Miss Halliwell. You do understand what I mean about discretion, don’t you? The last thing this family needs is for my lady’s maid to catch wind that Seline has left the house.”

  I covered my mouth. “I didn’t think.”

  “No, you didn’t.” She pursed her lips. “Well, go on. What were you about to tell me?”

  “I don’t know what it means, but Seline was determined to borrow my black cloak before she left.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh stared at me for a moment, then twitched a nervous laugh. “Well, of course she would need a cloak. There’s a decided nip in the air tonight.” Then she stood. “If that is all the information you have for me at present, I shall leave you for my sitting room. Avery shall be waiting for me, and I daresay you must be missing your bed.”

  Her voice softened a bit as she took my arm. “And don’t worry your pretty head, my dear. You’ve done all you can do tonight. Avery and I will see that everything is hushed up and Seline is returned to her room as quickly as possible. We will all speak again in the morning.” A sharp nod. “Good evening, Miss Halliwell.”

  I paused for a moment, considering whether I should tell her about the second set of footsteps, but they were so very odd, I might very well have imagined them. Goodness knows I had done so before.

  Mrs. Cavanagh swung open her bedchamber door and waited as I passed through it, confusion heavy on my heart. However, I halted one step into the hall as Mrs. Cavanagh’s maid flew around the far corner, a note gripped in her hand.

  Her face was pale, her arm stiff as she strangled out, “Mrs. Cavanagh! Mrs. Cavanagh!”

  Mrs. Cavanagh thrust the door wide and the rush of wind ruffled the paper in the maid’s hand. “What is it?”

  The maid shook her head like a baby bird, thrusting out the note in one fell swoop. “I passed by Seline’s room and found her door open. This note was on her bed.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh snatched the letter from her maid’s hand and angled it into the light. Her countenance shifted as she pored over every last word, her face transitioning from the harried look she’d worn since I knocked on her door to a pale grimace. She lowered the note, her whole body shaking in response.

  I moved to support her arm, my own fear and curiosity extinguishing any qualms I had in addressing her. “What does it say? Where is she?”

  The note fell to the carpet. “Seline’s set off for Gretna Green with Miles Lacy. And we are all ruined.”

  Chapter 3

  After a fitful night of sleep and the uncomfortable silence of an empty breakfast room, I realized my only hope for information regarding Seline’s unfortunate situation would be to return once again to Mrs. Cavanagh’s bedchamber.

  The precipitous appearance of the letter the previous night wrought more questions in my mind than answers. First off, why hadn’t I seen the note when I entered her room just a few minutes before? It was dark, yes, but was it really possible to miss such a vital item? And when exactly had Seline left the note? Nothing about the events of the evening made any sense.

  An offhand comment from a maid in the hallway informed me that Avery had set off quite early in search of her, and it would probably be some time before he returned. Mrs. Cavanagh remained my only recourse in the house with whom I might mull over the inconsistencies that plagued my thoughts. If only she wasn’t so easily affected.

  The family wing looked oddly cheery in the daylight, the ghosts of the previous night’s escapades tucked neatly beneath a warm, yellow glow. Even though I knew in my heart that as a mother Mrs. Cavanagh would wish to hear my suspicions, I couldn’t help but fear the flurry of her nerves.

  The shouts of a heated argument rent the cloying stillness of the hallway and arrested my steps. What at first I thought emanated from Mrs. Cavanagh’s bedchamber, I realized only too quickly came from the room next door.

  Seized by the shrill pitch of Mrs. Cavanagh’s voice, I sank against a wooden pillar, numb as to which way to turn. Of late I tended to shy away from conflict, so it was strange of me to stand there and eavesdrop . . . but I did so like a curst statue.

  As I feared, Mrs. Cavanagh’s shock from the previous night had turned into hysteria by the light of day. I could almost see her hands fluttering before her as she spoke.

  “Please, don’t take a pet about Mr. Lacy. I only meant to—”

  “How I continue to handle our curst situation is entirely up to me. Don’t ever forget that.” The second voice was that of an older man, an angry one. Considering the proximity to Mrs. Cavanagh’s room, I could only deduce it was her husband. “It seems Mr. Lacy could not stop his nephew’s abhorrent behavior any more than you seem able to manage our own daughter’s.”

  A dramatic sniffle. “I’ve not been remiss in any way. Acquit me of that at least. I’ve been the best mother anyone could be to our daughter. And for you to question my judgment when I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me—everything. Who do you think handles Loxby in your stead?”

  He gave a pointed sigh. “We both know Piers runs the entirety of the estate from Liverpool. All you have been left to worry about is how to spend my money.”

  There was a hint of the victim in Mrs. Cavanagh’s voice. “I’m well aware that you’ve no choice but to lie there day after day, planning your next criticism of me, but—”

  “Enough.” The word boomed through the wall.

  My eyes widened and my cheeks felt hot. What was I thinking listening in on a private conversation? But her next words kept me firmly in my spot.

  “Now I have that Halliwell girl to deal with. You would force me to let her come here.”

  My hand retreated to my mouth as my eyes slipped closed. I had been right in my assumptions. Regardless of my mother’s enthusiasm, my visit was wholly unwanted.

  Mr. Cavanagh’s shrewd tone broke the amassing silence of the hall. “Miss Halliwell shall likely be a comfort for you as we wait for word on Seline’s whereabouts.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh’s voice shook, but she managed to carry on well enough, “Yes . . . well . . . I . . . That is neither here nor there. What I am most anxious about is Avery. You know how easily he can be entrapped. Thankfully the little mouse is as drab as she ever was. I do not believe his head could be turned where Miss Halliwell is concerned. And it’s a good thing, too, for I have high hopes for him. As should you.”

  Another sigh. “Your memory seems to be selective at best. As I told you before, I have no intention of discussing my will with you again. Let it alone.” A long pause. “Have Piers come to my room as soon as he arrives.”

  A huff. “I wasn’t aware you knew he was coming.”

  Mr. Cavanagh coughed out an irritated laugh. “Interesting that you did not tell me so yourself. We promised to be forthright with one another, did we not? Thankfully I have Baker to apprise me of what goes on in this house. I may be weak and blind, but I am not on my deathbed yet, lest you forget.”

  “You needn’t act like I withheld the information on purpose. We’ve been at sixes and sevens throughout Loxby since Seline’s shocking disgrace. As you well know.”

  I heard footsteps approaching my position beyond the door, and I sprang into a brisk walk, my feet flying numbly down the carpeted hall, my mind awash with what I’d overheard.

 
Avery. High hopes that didn’t include me. The utter notion!

  I took a careless look behind me. Goodness, I had no intention of approaching Mrs. Cavanagh now. Not when she thought I came to Loxby to—my chest tightened—make a match with her younger son.

  I gripped the banister hard as I hurried down the steps, my heart a wrangled mess. Avery Cavanagh was never anything more to me than a good friend, and there had always been Piers . . . How could she think I’d come here to set my cap at Avery?

  My head hurt. ’Faith, but I’d come to Loxby to escape the thought of men entirely, and here was one waiting to engage me, only this time his mother wanted her children to have nothing to do with a drab little mouse like me.

  Perhaps voyaging to America would have been the better option after all.

  No. I knew full well conversation about marriage would have been front and center if I’d gone with my parents. Oh yes, I’d felt the undercurrent of hope when Mama had mentioned cousin Samuel would be meeting them in Boston. He had always been the family joke when it came to me. If I never found a suitable husband, I could certainly have him. Well, I didn’t want cousin Samuel or anyone else. Not anymore. Why couldn’t anyone understand that?

  Mrs. Cavanagh could rest easy. Not only were Piers and Avery marked off any list of mine but I’d torn up the whole dratted thing and torched it to ashes in Ceylon. I had plans of my own, none of which involved a husband.

  At some point during the upcoming year, I would find a governess position—one as far away from Loxby as I could get.

  Unfortunately I’d made the decision to come to East Whitloe, and I had little choice but to stay at the manor house and await Mrs. Cavanagh’s pleasure for the time being. I owed the family that much. Besides, I couldn’t leave now, not after Seline had disappeared so suddenly, not if I could help her in some way.

  I moved past Mr. Baker in the long corridor to the drawing room. There was a moment’s hesitation in his step until he halted midway down the hall as if he meant to delay me. But then he gave his head a light shake and hurried on his way.