“Always.”
I hesitated to go on, but Tony had always been a friend to me, and I had little chance of learning anything playing it safe all the time. I bit back my doubts and plowed on. “No one knows at present besides the family, but Seline disappeared that very night. A note was found later in her room indicating she’d eloped.”
“Eloped!”
“Shhh! To Gretna Green. And you cannot tell anyone.”
He leaned in. “With who?”
“Miles Lacy.”
His eyes darted about the room as he processed my revelation, then whispered again, “Are you sure?”
“Do you have reason to doubt it?”
He frowned. “I do.”
“Why?”
He adjusted his jacket. “This may come as a shock to you, but a year or so ago I found myself in something of a pickle, and I decided to offer for Miss Cavanagh. She nearly laughed in my face. I cannot imagine her running away with the likes of Miles Lacy, not when she could have had me.”
Chapter 8
Mrs. Cavanagh escorted the ladies back to the drawing room following dinner, and I meant to take the first opportunity for a comfortable coze with Priscilla. Though she and Seline ran in very different circles, Priscilla had always been quite close to her brother. Something might be gleaned by the association.
It took me a moment to secure her attention, distracted as she was by Mrs. Cavanagh’s infernal pacing. A pat of the sofa cushion and I urged her over beside me. She cast one last glance at Mrs. Cavanagh before taking a hesitant seat at my side, her nose wrinkled. “What do you suppose has upset her this evening? I did hope to make a good impression.”
I recrossed my ankles beneath my gown for the fifth time. “Probably anxious about Seline’s recovery.”
“Oh yes.” She thought for a moment. “But I understood Seline’s illness was only slight in nature—nothing to worry over.”
My shoulders sank. I hated to carry on in any kind of a falsehood, but it was vital to protect Seline’s reputation. I gave a credible shrug. “Yes, but one never does know with a fever.”
Priscilla nodded, and her attention strayed back to Mrs. Cavanagh, her lips pursed in anticipation.
I tried a smile. “Won’t you tell me about your brother? Five years has been a long time to be away. I must confess, I hardly recognized him.”
“Oh.” A blush stole across her cheeks, and she lowered her head. “I can imagine it would be startling to see . . . if you didn’t know. The last few years have been difficult for him.”
I had posed the question merely to make conversation, but something about her reaction piqued my interest. I took a glance at the door. Perhaps there was more to Hugh Daunt than I was yet aware.
I waited for her to look up. “How so?”
She fumbled with her fingers in her lap. “I really can’t say where it all began, but somewhere over the last year or so, we’ve all witnessed Hugh—change. First it was the terrible streak of lethargy, then the slow, insidious wasting away.” She gripped my hand. “Charity, he’s managed to withdraw nearly completely from the world. He used to be so full of life. You remember . . . and now . . . nothing. Avery and Tony are dears to try to think of ways to get him out of the house.” She gave my fingers a squeeze. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am he decided to come tonight. It’s the first spark of interest I’ve seen in him all week.”
She narrowed her eyes, and then a smile emerged. “You know what I think? This sudden elevation in mood must have everything to do with you returning to East Whitloe. Maybe it will be like old times again.”
“I do hope so, but I cannot credit his decision to attend our dinner party with anything to do with me. We were never all that close.”
“Perhaps not.” She glanced away. “He did speak a great deal about Avery on the drive over.”
A low rumble of voices resonated in the hall, and Miss Susannah Shaw flew to her feet, hightailing it to the pianoforte. A grand shuffling of papers, and the selected melody pounded into the room on the delicate strokes of a horse at full gallop.
Priscilla released a small laugh. “. . . come . . . now. What a . . .”
The music effectively drowned out Priscilla’s words, and I was left to plaster a smile across my face. I leaned forward and attempted to focus on her lips, but it was no use. I’d missed too much to follow her now.
I mirrored her emotions as best I could—like I’d done a thousand times before. Throughout my illustrious ballroom days, I’d perfected the art of pretending I’d understood what my dancing partner had said. Having anyone repeat their words in a loud room rarely helped and merely frustrated the person speaking. After all, who wants to repeat the same thing over and over again?
The gentlemen entered the drawing room, marking the blessed end to Mrs. Cavanagh’s frantic pacing. She collapsed into a chair, her hand resting at her throat.
Avery nodded at me as he made his way across the room to his mother’s side, and for the first time I wondered if their relationship might not be entirely healthy. Of course Seline had run off and Avery was only trying to calm his mother, but Piers handled things so differently. Consciously aloof was the best way to describe him. Granted, Mrs. Cavanagh tended to keep him at arm’s length.
Avery whispered in Mrs. Cavanagh’s ear and then helped her to the card table in the corner of the room.
Priscilla brightened almost immediately. “. . . I should . . . a game of Whist. Will you join us?”
I took a quick glance at Hugh as I struggled to speak over the piano hammering in my ears. “No, thank you, but I’m certain Mrs. Cavanagh shall be pleased by your company.” The last thing I wished to do was try to make conversation over a card table situated so close to the pianoforte.
Besides, I knew full well it wasn’t Mrs. Cavanagh who had captured the fascination gleaming in those baby-blue eyes. No, I understood the situation perfectly now. Priscilla Daunt had set her cap at Avery. It was a good match, disposition wise, but if the Daunts were in desperate need of money, as Mrs. Cavanagh had indicated, it might spell trouble for the marriage, as Avery would likely inherit very little.
I whirled back to the room in search of Hugh. He was the one person I hadn’t had the chance to speak with as of yet, and considering how close he had been with Seline, he might have some insight about the night she disappeared.
I rose to take a calculated turn about the room when Priscilla motioned Hugh to join them at the card table. “We . . . need a fourth . . . Whist.” He nodded as he passed by.
I let out a sigh and turned back to find Piers but a step away, resting against the wall beside the sofa. Startled by his sudden presence, I fell into my seat.
He covered a laugh with his hand. “I didn’t mean to . . . you.”
I lifted my eyebrows, and he nodded, moving in closer and raising his voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t frighten me. I was simply surprised to find you, uh, standing there . . . so close. I-I mean, I didn’t see you walk over.”
“Too busy making mischief with Priscilla?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
His attention moved to the card table and Hugh, and his smile faded. “I do find the elder Daunt a bit more worn around the edges than I remember from when I last saw him.”
“Which is one of the reasons I hoped to speak with him this evening.”
“Good luck. He’s quite proficient at evading conversation. I’ve managed only a few words with him so far, and now Avery has him tucked neatly into a card game. Neither of us may get much of a chance.”
Having finished her first performance to mild applause, Miss Susannah Shaw eagerly started in on a second piece, perhaps even livelier than the first.
Piers touched my arm. “Would you . . . step . . . the terrace.”
My eyes widened, and he bent to my ear. “I know very well you can’t hear a word I’m saying with that rackety song in the background, and I have something importan
t to tell you.”
I nodded, slowly rising to my feet.
He offered me his arm, and I raised my hand to take it with little more than a passing thought. But as I settled my fingers on his jacket, a forgotten memory wafted into my mind on a breath of his musky cologne—the day he’d rescued me from my horse accident. I’d been so pleased to see him that day, so hopeful for the future, but he’d regarded me in the same confusing way, a curious mix of compassion and worry. How familiar the moment felt, but at the same time so tantalizingly unfamiliar. I glanced quickly away. There could be nothing between us, not now.
Ignorant of the thoughts swirling in my mind, Piers led me through the French doors at the back of the room and onto the waiting terrace. I’d expected some sort of comment from someone in the room, but we made our escape into the dampened air with nothing more than a few inquisitive looks.
The cloudy night had wrapped the countryside in a dreary blanket. What little wind there was snuck around Loxby’s black corners like a clever fox, winding its way up my arms and across my shoulders. I gave a subtle shiver.
Piers turned to face me beside a large potted plant, the moonlight playing tricks with the expression on his face. “Are you cold?”
“A little, but at least I can hear you out here.”
I caught a smile as he moved his head. “I enjoy a performance on the pianoforte as much as the next gentleman, but I’m not certain what you would call that monstrosity.”
I popped his arm. “Quiet. She might hear you.”
He lifted his eyebrows and laughed. “Not the way she’s playing.”
“What did you need to tell me?”
He regarded me for a moment. “All right. I’ll behave.” Then he gave me another smile. “Hugh happened to mention that Seline’s horse showed up at Rushridge earlier today.”
“Her horse?”
“Avery and I have assumed all along that she took it with her, at least until she and Miles were forced to change horses.” He shifted his weight on the stone floor. “Avery thinks it’s possible that Seline sent the mare off that night, but I have a hard time believing she would do such a thing.” He shook his head. “And if I’m right and Seline was indeed on that horse, something could be terribly wrong.”
The furtive breeze sent a leaf skittering across the terrace. I watched it disappear into the shadows as the tightening in my chest made it difficult to breathe. “What do you think could have happened?”
He scowled. “I fear Miles might have forced an engagement or perhaps something worse.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Are you well acquainted with Miles Lacy? Would he do such a thing?” Was that why Mr. Cavanagh had asked if he hurt Seline?
Piers ran his hand through his hair. “I know his uncle quite well, and he’s the epitome of respectability, but Miles came to Loxby only a year ago. I’ve not been home in that time. I’m afraid I’ve nothing to compare to.”
“Perhaps Avery—”
“Not this time, Charity. This conversation needs to stay between the two of us.” Piers paced the distance between the potted plant and the wall. “I’m not saying my brother was involved in any way, but the people who were there at the abbey that night all cry friends with him. I’m not certain he can be completely honest with us, not when he still believes Seline simply ran off. And one thought keeps circling my mind. Miles Lacy wasn’t at the abbey. At least Avery didn’t see him there—or admit he’d been there.”
I thought for a moment, the quiet of the night humming in my ears. Could we trust Avery, or was he hiding something? “What do you think they were doing there so late at night?”
“That’s what I’d like to know, and I haven’t been able to get a straight answer out of Avery.” Piers glared off into the darkness. Somewhere out there were the ruins of the abbey.
He lowered his voice. “I plan to ride to Kinwich tomorrow and begin my search for answers. It’s the last location anyone saw Seline and the only place I have to begin the search for clues.”
* * *
Piers and I returned to the drawing room, and the card game surreptitiously broke up on our arrival. This was the last opportunity I would have to speak with Hugh, so I skirted around the sofa to avoid Priscilla’s gaze and headed to the sidebar where Hugh had stopped to pour himself a drink.
When he didn’t initially turn, I cleared my throat. “Mr. Daunt?”
He spun to face me, a smile sneaking onto his face. “I don’t think you’ve called me that in my entire life.”
I laughed. “I think you may be right.”
“We all missed you while you were away. No one more so than Seline.”
Hugh had always been on the thin side, but up close, particularly when he smiled, I could see the shadows that highlighted his bones, the sallow color to his skin. Priscilla was right. He looked practically ill.
Perhaps he was. I tried to keep my voice light. “I’m quite glad to be back.”
There was a strange, unsettled movement to his eyes as if he found it difficult to focus on my face. Then abruptly he froze. “Seline isn’t ill, is she?”
My heart took a wild turn. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I heard her arguing with Kendal the other night. She was extremely distraught.”
Uncertain how far to probe, I gave him space to talk. “Did you hear what the argument was over?”
He took a glance at his watch. “I thought she’d come to the abbey to address Kendal’s sudden engagement, but something else must have driven her from the house so late. She said she was frightened.”
“Frightened?” I stepped closer. “About what?”
“I don’t know, but I’m certain of one thing. Kendal broke her heart. I could see it in her eyes.” Hugh turned his attention to the painted ceiling as if he could see through the plaster to Seline’s room. “Tell her when she’s ready to entertain visitors, I want to come. We can meet in the garden as she likes to do. You’ll tell her that, won’t you?”
I blinked. “Of course.”
Priscilla had said earlier in the evening that her brother rarely left the house. Interesting that he had continued to meet Seline in the place where the three of us had once enjoyed our pretend tea parties.
Perhaps Priscilla wasn’t privy to Hugh’s excursions after all.
“Hugh, I—”
“Charity, dear.” Mrs. Cavanagh’s booming voice stifled any further conversation. “Would you run and fetch my shawl? It’s rather drafty in here after you and Piers had the ridiculous notion of opening the door in this weather.”
My shoulders sank. My moment with Hugh was gone all too quickly, and I had so many questions. “Certainly, Mrs. Cavanagh. I’ll hurry.”
It wasn’t until I reached the door that I felt Hugh’s hand at my arm. He pressed in close to my ear, his words a fervent whisper. “Would you give this to her for me?”
Something smooth and cold slid into my hand, and I glanced down to see a folded note with Seline’s name written on the outside.
Chapter 9
When I returned to the drawing room with Mrs. Cavanagh’s shawl in hand, I realized all too quickly that I’d made the trip to her room in vain. Mrs. Cavanagh was in the process of declaring it time to retire for the night.
She gave a great show of it, but unfortunately her departure took with it all opportunity I might have had to engage further with any of the party guests, particularly Hugh.
Mrs. Cavanagh gave a fluttery whiff of her fan as she stole across the carpet, and Avery jumped up immediately to assist her. Of course the impending absence of Avery was all Priscilla needed to insist that she and Hugh should leave as well. It seemed she had nothing to gain by humoring the rest of us. My gaze fell to Tony, and as expected he and his cousin fell in step behind the Daunts.
Piers and I watched the guests amble from the drawing room to the awaiting servants in the front entryway, and Piers nudged my arm. “You must be tired. I’ll see the guests to th
e front drive. No need to linger.”
“No need to linger”? Did he want me out of the way?
My chest tightened, but I nodded nonetheless. After all, Piers’s desire to escort his guests to their carriages alone was perfectly appropriate. He was the master of the house, and I only a guest. But something in the tone of his dismissal made me glare at his retreating form until he was lost to view.
Before I left for Ceylon, I’d never been made to feel like a guest at Loxby Manor, not by Seline or Avery. I circled around to the grand staircase as a rather disconcerting discovery struck me. The Cavanagh’s were not exactly the family I remembered. Piers had arranged a duel for goodness’ sake and then declined to show up. Moreover, he’d refused to explain himself to his friends or family. And after a bit of prying tonight, I’d learned that Seline had toyed with not only Hugh but Tony as well.
I leaned on the banister as I reached the top of the stairs, the letter Hugh had given me burning in my pocket. How much had changed at Loxby Manor. The people I thought I knew inside and out had proved to be mere shadows of their former selves. My mother told me before I left that I could never go back to the way things were, not really. But I hadn’t wanted to believe her.
The air felt thick in my lungs.
Tony said he had actually proposed marriage—to Seline of all people. It was all so strange really. Hugh had always been the one enraptured with her, and she with Lord Kendal. And then Seline had had the audacity to turn around and insinuate that both gentlemen would be a good match for me! The entire notion was the outside of enough.
I turned down the dark corridor that housed my room before stopping at a small rococo table in the hall, the weight of discovery a fresh burden on my shoulders.
Interesting how our intimate group of friends had all managed to converge at Kinwich Abbey the night Seline disappeared. I reached for the door to my room in something of a fog, but everything changed when I heard a skittering at my back. How easily I could go from perfect ease to heart-pounding alarm.
The Vanishing at Loxby Manor Page 8