The Vanishing at Loxby Manor

by Abigail Wilson

  I cleared my throat. “A little.”

  “Well, I paid Miles to leave that very morning, and I was confident we’d not see him in this county again, but now I’m to understand Seline left a note—that they’ve run off to Scotland. Lying here as I am, I cannot help but feel a fool. And I cannot believe there’s not more to this business than what we already know.” His voice softened. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but what I must ask is, do you have any suspicions about whether Miles hurt her in any way, whether anything was forced on her?”

  My heart nearly stopped.

  And for a blessed second, I imagined my own father taking me aside, asking me so tenderly about my incident in Ceylon, but the moment faded to darkness and to the bitter reality I knew to be true. My father would never ask in such a way. Not to mention our situations could hardly be compared. Seline had initiated what happened between herself and Miles Lacy, and mine was more than a simple kiss.

  “I . . .” I paused a second to think. Seline would want her father to believe the situation was Miles’s fault, but he had asked for the truth. “She knew she never should have made a habit of seeing him alone, not when there was obviously a mutual attraction, but I don’t think she meant for anything to happen.”

  My voice took a strange dip as I went on. “She should have left the minute he came near her.” My eyes slipped closed, the unspeakable details of my own night in the tea fields emerging from deep inside me, twisting and turning Seline’s story into something more.

  “I can only imagine that it happened quite fast. Her reflexes might not have behaved the way you’d think they would. She’d been so desperately alone for so long. Perhaps she wanted to believe someone cared for her . . . Then everything changed.”

  Mr. Cavanagh’s hand curled tight around mine, his voice breaking the pensive silence of my thoughts like velvet ice. “I’ve already spoken with some of the grooms. There have been accusations about Miles in town. Seline said it was only a kiss, correct? You’ve no need to hide anything from her father, now. I only want the best for her.”

  His hand was so warm, his comfort so utterly real. I nearly mouthed the word no, but then I gave my head a little shake. We were speaking of Seline, not me. “Luckily, they were found straightaway before—”

  “My dear Miss Halliwell. You’re shaking. I never meant to cause you any distress. I know how good a friend you’ve been to my daughter. I’m afraid this will be a delicate matter for some time to come, but you’ve helped me understand what happened a little better today. If we can only find Seline and bring her home, this will all be forgot. So if you know anything, anything more . . . Mrs. Cavanagh is convinced they’ll return a married couple. I may very well be forced to send him money to keep him honest, but if Seline is able to come about in society, it will be money well spent.”

  I wondered how much Mrs. Cavanagh had told her husband about the disappearance. Did he know about my concerns?

  “It may be a bit difficult for the new couple at first; however, if she or Miles reaches out to you, let them know I plan to stand their friend. They should go on as if there was never an incident in the first place. Attend parties, dance the night away. The scandal will fade away in time. It’s simply a matter of moving on.”

  “I suppose so.” I sat there in silence for several seconds. I’d always considered Mr. Cavanagh wise, and he was probably right about society. Seline would come about. But what about inside the person? What about me? I’d changed so much since my assault, but what if I could find a way to go on as if nothing had happened? No one knew, after all. Could I, too, find my way back to some sort of normalcy? Capture the essence of the person I had been before? The girl with the whole world in front of her and an unending zest for life.

  My heart lurched, and I sat up straight. Wasn’t that why I’d come to Loxby in the first place—to forget?

  * * *

  Strangely enough, Mrs. Cavanagh agreed to the dinner party with Hugh Daunt and Tony Shaw without even batting an eye. I don’t know what I expected her to say or do, but it certainly didn’t involve such a level of enthusiasm. She patted my cheek and smiled, adding rather sweetly that a night of conversation and cards might prove just the thing to turn her mind from her relentless fears about Seline.

  It was Avery who seemed hesitant.

  In fact, on the night of the occasion, I entered the drawing room to await the guests with the rest of the family, and he was still making a fuss about the whole idea. He’d managed to corner Piers by the fireplace, and by the looks of his stiff posture the conversation had not been pleasant.

  “Dash it all. Our time would be better spent elsewhere.” There was a sort of dig in his voice and he added a heavy sigh. “We haven’t even heard from Uncle Charles yet. These fantastical notions of yours could all just turn out to be a hum.”

  Piers averted his attention from Avery as I approached, and he dipped his chin.

  As if aware of an added presence in the room, Avery stepped back and spun to face me before running his fingers through his hair. “Oh, it’s you. Good evening, Charity.” He checked his sullen behavior, adding a bit too boisterously, “And what a gown! You do clean up rather nicely.”

  Oh dear. I took a quick glance back through the door and let out a slow breath. Thank goodness Mrs. Cavanagh had not descended the grand staircase as of yet.

  “Care for a drink?” Avery had always possessed a heightened degree of boyish charm, but after what I’d witnessed between him and his brother, the show felt unnatural.

  I offered him a smile. “Thank you, but no.”

  Piers didn’t move, regarding me out of the corner of his eye. At least I thought he did, but he was always so good at deflection—something about that restrained posture yet steely countenance. I pulled my arms in close. Avery and I were friends. Why should I care what Piers thought?

  Piers had donned a silver waistcoat and black jacket for the impromptu dinner party. His black pumps gleamed in the firelight. We’d said nothing to each other throughout the day about Seline’s disappearance, but we both knew this party could prove vital to uncovering where she had gone.

  Avery checked his watch and held up a finger to Piers who had opened his mouth to speak. But Piers was already ahead of him. “I have one more thing to add, and then we shall put this conversation to rest. We shouldn’t hear from Uncle Charles for days yet. If Tony or Hugh saw anything”—he shot a glance at me—“I should like to know straightaway.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh bustled into the room, effectively stifling any response from Avery. She crossed the rug amid a flurry of purple satin and gold trimming, her hand lightly caressing the base of her hair, which was swept up and pinned with a single ostrich feather. She paused for a dramatic pose by the sofa and angled her chin. “I hope this will do. You will not be embarrassed by your mama?”

  “Well done.” Avery went dutifully to her side and continued to lavish the praise Mrs. Cavanagh so evidently sought. I couldn’t help but see the resemblance to Seline in her speech and mannerisms. Seline would have loved to be the toast of the evening on such a night.

  Mrs. Cavanagh took Avery’s outstretched arm. “What time are we to expect our guests?”

  She had left the invitations as well as the preparations to me and Piers.

  “Six o’clock, ma’am.”

  She wrinkled her nose and turned to Piers. “I suppose Mr. Daunt was more than pleased to accept our kind offer.” She moved her hand to conceal her words but spoke loud enough so everyone in the room would be sure to hear. “For we all know his pockets are to let.”

  “Mama!”

  I was caught off guard by Avery’s outburst.

  He ran a hand down his face, working to temper his tone. “It’s no secret that the Daunts have had a rough few years. Hugh is doing all he can to keep Rushridge afloat.” He cast a curious glance at me. “Besides, we all know Tony Shaw is the better catch for any eligible young lady.”

  I froze as a single pulse of
dread tore through my chest. First Seline then Piers—did Avery also consider Tony a suitor for me? I turned away, wandering over to the large central window before feigning an interest in the front drive. Why must every conversation around a single young lady involve marriage?

  Within seconds Piers was at my side. He rested his arm on the window frame. “Allow me to apologize.”

  “There is no need.”

  He let out a long breath. “Then permit me to say that I don’t believe any of the Cavanaghs possess the least degree of tact.” When I didn’t answer, he stared down at me. “No flaming retort? Are you well this evening?”

  I gave him my best casual shrug. “Perfectly well. Why do you ask?”

  He inched his foot onto the windowsill. “I wouldn’t dare wager a guess, but I will endeavor to point out that your face is a bit pale at present, and after you made clear your thoughts about marriage, I—”

  “You meant to rescue me from the likes of Tony Shaw?” I gave a breathy laugh. “How valiant you are.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Trust me, Sir Galahad, I can handle an old friend who’s never shown the slightest interest in me.”

  “Possibly.” His finger grazed the edge of my sleeve. “Or not. I daresay Avery was in the right of it. You shall find Tony’s continued indifference a bit more difficult to attain with your, uh, selection of gowns this evening.” His eyes flicked up to meet mine. “You look exceptional.”

  Warmth filled my cheeks, and I spun to the window like a mouse, my heart wild. What did Piers mean by complimenting me in such a way? He’d already made his intentions clear. Did he hope to inspire me into a marriage with Tony?

  I choked out a thank-you before adding a bit more confidently, “Rest assured, I didn’t wear this gown for him.”

  Piers stared at me for a moment, then his eyes widened in that infuriating mix of surprise and confidence. I could have scratched him.

  Phenomenal job, Charity. If a way existed to make the situation more complicated between Piers and me, I’d certainly found it.

  I rushed to snuff out the resulting silence, pointing through the window. “There. I can almost see the silhouette of the abbey in the moonlight. At least I think those are the ruins on the hill over there.” My shoulders felt heavy, my throat thick. “What do you suppose your brother and his friends were doing there the night Seline left?”

  Piers turned his back to the window, his arms crossed. “Searching for ghosts perhaps.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past Avery and his friends.”

  A wry smile curved his lips, and I couldn’t help but deduce that his mind was on something else. He nudged my shoulder. “There have been rumors for the last hundred years of a spectral monk who walks the ruins.”

  “And you mean to suggest that Avery was hoping to meet this monk?”

  He let a small laugh slip. “He always has been fascinated with the beyond.”

  I dipped my chin. “Speaking of the beyond”—I motioned out the window—“our first guest has arrived.”

  Piers cocked an eyebrow. “Here we go.”

  At length Mr. Baker entered. “Mr. Hugh Daunt and Miss Daunt.”

  Piers leaned down near my ear, his voice a mockery. “He brought his sister.”

  “Don’t look so smug. I invited her.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

  Priscilla Daunt had been twelve years old when I left for Ceylon. Though she’d been able to hold on to the wide-eyed innocence of youth, she’d also grown into a lady in my absence. Her blond locks were twisted into braids and piled neatly on her head, while the white roses in her hair matched perfectly the smooth satin of her gown. She recognized me at once and hurried through a curtsy to Mrs. Cavanagh before tugging her brother to meet us in the center of the room.

  I felt Piers’s hand at the small of my back. “Hugh, you remember Miss Halliwell?”

  Hugh swept a questioning look from Piers back to me, and it wasn’t the first time I wondered if he knew of Piers’s and my secret relationship. Before I left for Ceylon, Hugh had mentioned rather coyly how much Piers was going to miss me.

  Of course that turned out to be far from the truth.

  Today Hugh flashed a keen smile. “Indeed I do.” Then he bowed. “May I present my sister, Miss Daunt.”

  Priscilla had always had a lovely voice and pretty manners, but she tossed them aside as she grasped my hands. “No need for formalities here. I perfectly remember Miss Halliwell.”

  I squeezed her hands in return. “And I remember you.”

  Her voice came out in waves, like a song building to crescendo. “I was absolutely giddy when I heard of your arrival in East Whitloe. You and Seline must call on me as soon as the both of you are free. I am sorry to hear she is indisposed at present.”

  It seemed Avery had already initiated a viable rumor. I didn’t bat an eye. “We would be pleased to do so as soon . . . as Seline has fully recovered.”

  Mr. Baker announced the arrival of Mr. Tony Shaw as well as his older cousin, Miss Susannah Shaw, whom I’d been forced to add to the party to keep up the numbers. All eyes turned once again to the door. The spare guest was ushered in before her cousin, and I found her a dainty little bird with black hair and wire-rimmed spectacles. She was slow to move and even slower to smile—the complete opposite of her jovial cousin.

  Tall with a large frame, Tony Shaw couldn’t help but chuckle as he drew up beside her and bowed to the room. The removal of his hat left a few scraggly pieces of hair at the back, and he smoothed them into place. Years ago he had been forced to crop his diminishing locks quite close and brush what was left forward. It didn’t appear he would be able to do so for very much longer.

  I gave him a wide smile. Though Tony tended to laugh a bit too loud for most drawing room conversations, he also possessed the immensely desirable mix of goodwill and humor. A favorite at parties, he and Avery had always got on quite well. I knew when he flashed that brilliant grin of his in response to mine no time was lost between us.

  Dinner was announced within the half hour by Mr. Baker, and we all made our way into the formal dining room in something of a muddled crowd. I was pleased at the opportunity to seat myself between Avery and Tony, regardless of the insinuations about us. I liked Tony and I always would.

  The dining room was comfortably warm as we awaited the first course. A fire snapped in the grate. The white walls danced with candle-strewn shadows, which were created beautifully by the grand central candelabra. Mrs. Cavanagh had selected a bold china pattern for the evening, dark blue with golden heart-shaped leaves and stems.

  The servants emerged from the hall in matching gilded livery to serve the first course of bouillie soup, and I focused my attention on Tony.

  “I am so pleased you were able to join us this evening. Are you having a fine time?”

  He swallowed his first bite of soup. “More than fine. Deuced glad you decided to return. We’ve all missed you, especially Seline. I’d be lying if I said your name wasn’t mentioned by her more than once or twice a month at least.” He shot a glare across the table. “And your arrival finally brought Piers back from that curst hole he was living in near Liverpool.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t me. Piers dashed home to take Avery to task after he was rusticated from university.”

  Tony narrowed his eyes. “Quite right. I had, uh, forgotten about that nonsense with Avery.” He took a sip of his drink. “Tell me about you. What are your plans?”

  “Rather awkward at present, I’m afraid.”

  He leaned in. “Does that mean they still involve Piers?”

  “Goodness no!” What had he known growing up?

  I heard a creak from his corset as he leaned back. “Then another gentleman—”

  I set my spoon on the table with a clunk. “I see you are as bold as you ever were.”

  He laughed. “You know I’m only teasing. I
am well aware your aspirations likely have nothing to do with men.”

  “You are quite right. I have a mind to take a position as a governess.”

  He nodded slowly as if pondering my suitability for such a position. “Considering your family and travels, I have to admit I was expecting something a bit more interesting, like an elephant herder or tiger trainer.”

  “You’ve been visiting the Royal Menagerie again, haven’t you?”

  “It has the most fascinating animals—tigers, zebras, kangaroos. Every time I’m at the Strand, I can’t seem to stay away.” He shook his head, then looked back at me. “A governess, eh?”

  “I plan to start inquiring about a position as soon as I can.”

  He gave me a smile, but it felt forced. “You will make an excellent governess of course. I’m fairly certain you could do anything you set your mind to. But don’t decide too quickly.”

  “I thank you for your confidence, but it has been a long few years, and I’m ready for simplicity.”

  He nodded. “I could use some of that simplicity as well. Got quite a bit of money riding on Lord Kendal’s curricle race. Dashed nuisance if he doesn’t win. I may have to sell off some of my land. Not as tight as Hugh, mind you, but I could stand for some luck.”

  “The curricle race?” I asked, fishing for more information about what Avery had already mentioned.

  “Just put it in the book at White’s last week. He plans to wait till after his engagement party of course, but he shall make the race from Whitecaster Hall right past Kinwich Abbey.”

  My nerves twitched at the mention of the ruins. “Speaking of Kinwich Abbey, I understand Seline came upon you and a few other gentlemen there the other night.”

  His eyes shifted and his chair squeaked. “Uncomfortable business there. Must not have heard about Kendal’s engagement. Turned into quite a scene.”

  “Avery said Lord Kendal and she had an argument.”

  “And a bitter one at that.”

  Desperate for information, I realized I might have to take Tony into my confidence if I was to get any real information. I made certain everyone else at the table was absorbed in their own conversations and took a measured breath, hoping I wasn’t making a terrible mistake. “I know I can trust you, Tony.”