The Vanishing at Loxby Manor

by Abigail Wilson

  The road had left a sprinkling of dust down Avery’s jacket and breeches, but even more noticeable was the weariness of his bearing. He collapsed in the closest chair, his hand finding his forehead.

  “A complete waste of time. There has been no word of a Fitzgerald or anyone matching Seline’s description in any direction. The whole curst escapade has proved to be nothing but a blasted inconvenience. I could box Seline’s ears for forcing me to ride all over the district. Mark my words, she can marry her stable hand with my good blessing. I’m finished chasing a veritable ghost.”

  Mrs. Cavanagh threw her hands up and shrieked. “Don’t say such a terrible thing.”

  Avery quailed beneath the weight of his words. “I didn’t mean ghost exactly—”

  “Not that.” Mrs. Cavanagh fanned her face with her hand. “The part about her marrying a stable hand. I’d rather just about anything happen than that.”

  Mr. Baker entered the room to announce the arrival of Tony Shaw and Hugh Daunt.

  My gaze shot to Avery just in time to catch him mutter under his breath, “Figures.”

  The gentlemen bowed and we all took our seats once again, but Avery seemed decidedly uncomfortable, leaning forward, raking his hand through his hair. In fact, everyone in the room had caught a whiff of Avery’s irritation, and no one seemed to want to be the first to initiate the conversation.

  Avery finally glanced at the ceiling before drumming his fingers on his knee. “Just rode in from Canterbury boys. Haven’t even had a chance to shed these dusty clothes.”

  Tony produced a smile. “Don’t you always look like that?”

  Avery laughed and the room seemed to relax, at least some of it did. The sudden arrival of Avery’s friends had forced a lid on Mrs. Cavanagh’s pot of boiling questions, and she wasn’t happy about it.

  She finally swayed to her feet. “I believe I shall retire to my room to rest before supper.”

  The gentlemen waited for her departure, and then all eyes turned to me. Goodness, was I supposed to leave as well? I adjusted the folds of my skirt, then folded my hands on my lap. Even if Piers had taken a break from the investigation, I had no intention of doing so.

  Tony ran a hand down his face, then turned to Avery. “We were just up on the rise and we saw you ride in. I thought a little air would do Hugh some good. Then we got to talking. How about you ease our friend’s mind and tell us you are still planning to attend the ball at Lord Kendal’s in a few weeks.”

  My attention shot to Avery. “A ball?”

  A spot of red entered his cheeks and he sat up. “Kendal’s planning a dance the night before the curricle race. Something of an engagement party.”

  Hugh came to life. “Then the race is still on.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Hugh shrugged. “With his sudden engagement, I did worry. I’ve got quite a bit of money riding on the outcome.”

  Tony chuckled. “We all do.”

  Each of the boys joined in the laugh, but I couldn’t miss the hesitation in their voices and the sideways looks they passed around the room. Something was not as it seemed. If only Piers were here to witness it as well.

  I cleared my throat. “Are you all attending?”

  They stared at me for a long second, and I added quickly, “The ball.”

  “Oh yes, of course.” Tony stood, startling me by his hasty movement. “We were really on our way home. No wish to tarry. I don’t think Hugh should be out of his house for much longer. I’m pleased to learn Kendal has not lost all his senses over a bit of love. Good day, Miss Halliwell. Avery, I know you’ll keep us informed.”

  Informed of what?

  I opened my mouth to form a question, but Avery mumbled something about clothes as he made his way to the door. Hugh, it seemed, meant to beat him to it, calling out his farewells as he rushed into the entryway.

  Then silence. The life of the drawing room disappeared into the incessant tick of the grandfather clock. I stared across the empty room at the flames in the fireplace. Those three gentlemen were hiding something, and if I had to guess, it had something to do with the night Seline disappeared.

  * * *

  Later that same day, hours after I’d retired to my room, I heard a scratch at my bedchamber door. I stared for a moment at the closed door before moving. My first thought was of my maid, but the notion trickled from my mind, skittering its way down my back like an insect. She would have no reason to return to my room.

  I clutched my robe from my bed and threw it around my shoulders. “Who is it?”

  The person answered with another knock, but this time it had a pattern to it, as if that alone should reassure me whoever stood on the other side meant no harm.

  “Just a moment.”

  I grasped the poker from the fireplace and inched my way to the door before turning the lock and stepping into the shadows. “It’s open.”

  The door swung inward slowly as my heart thundered. A figure appeared in silhouette, and I raised the poker above my head.

  “Don’t you dare hit me with that thing.”

  My arms relaxed, and I dropped the iron rod to my side. It was Piers.

  I took a few steps forward and then stopped, the realization of my lack of dress filling my cheeks with heat. I pulled my robe tight about my neck. “What are you doing here?”

  “Charity.” My name came out a little more than a whisper, but then a laugh entered his voice. “Who were you expecting?”

  I placed the poker back into its holder near the fender. “No one. Which is why I couldn’t be too careful.”

  “Oh?”

  I turned back to face him as a peculiar feeling swarmed my chest. He just stood there, watching me, his arms crossed, his shoulder pressed to the wall as if the past few years hadn’t even happened. He seemed different. Did he somehow know what I’d discovered from his father?

  I swallowed hard. Or was it me who was different?

  A familiar stir of anticipation, one I hadn’t felt in some time, settled in my core. I forced it to bend to my will. We were older now, both changed by our experiences. Both wiser, hopefully.

  Not once during the few blessed weeks of our secret relationship had I ever been alone with him in my room. Outside, yes. Hidden in the hall alcove, once. But this intimate setting, the most private of places, felt like something else entirely.

  I rubbed my arms, but I couldn’t completely wipe away the urge to step nearer, to test the boundaries of my delicate emotions, to find out what I feared most of all—was intimacy possible for me after so much pain?

  Piers had always been perceptive, but never more so than in that moment. His brows drew in and he seemed almost careful when he asked, “What is it, Charity?”

  The sound of his voice broke the tension that had sprung up like a plague, forcing me back to the present, to reality. “Nothing. You just surprised me is all. Why are you here?”

  He crossed the room, his gaze never leaving my face. “I need to show you something.”

  A beat of terror coursed through my body. “What is it?”

  He stalked to the window and thrust open the drapes. He pointed into the inky blackness. “There on the hill. A light.”

  I rushed to his side. Sure enough, across the meadow a light twinkled on the horizon, darkening what was left of the rugged stones of the Kinwich Abbey cloisters. “And Avery just returned today.”

  Piers dipped his chin. “Care to join me for a midnight stroll?”

  The familiar flash of fear drew heat to my cheeks once again and then a startling cold.

  Piers took my hand. “I’ll be with you of course.” He motioned to the window with his head. “It’s only Avery and his silly friends out there.”

  Then his face changed. “Forgive me if I was improper in coming to your room. I thought you might like to join me. I can certainly venture to the abbey by myself.” His voice dissolved into a mumble. “Asking you to come had nothing to do with any fear on my part. I— Never mind.”
He pulled away.

  “Wait!” I followed him to the door. “I’m coming with you. I wanted to go more than anything the night Seline disappeared, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so alone.”

  Piers eyed me for a moment as if he didn’t believe me, then nodded. Goodness, he probably thought I changed my mind to appease him, that I actually thought him the coward he’d been labeled. After all, the Charity he remembered wouldn’t have batted an eye at such an idea.

  I reached for the door, and he chuckled. “I am glad you’ve decided to join me, but I don’t think it would be all that wise to go dressed like that.”

  I grimaced, then lifted my chin. “Give me five minutes.”

  The ridiculous charm he liked to strike to life like a candle in the most awkward of moments bubbled to the surface. He’d never been all that good at social games, but sometimes he possessed this look . . .

  He raised an eyebrow. “You know, someone might see me in the hallway. Perhaps I should simply turn my back.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Dare I risk it?”

  He splayed his hand across his chest, feigning indignation. “I thought you knew me better than that. Last I checked I’m not a rake”—then more seriously—“nor would I ever betray your trust.”

  The long months in Ceylon came to mind after I’d received his letter, but I shook off the memories. Everything I thought I knew about our prior relationship had to be called into question, reexamined from a new angle. The drawing he left me came to mind. It was time to start anew, and we were only friends now.

  “If you will stand over there, I’ll hurry.”

  I waited until he’d taken his stance in the corner, his back to me, before slinging my robe from my shoulders. A twinge of embarrassment snuck down my spine and washed over my bare arms, but I realized in that strange moment that I did trust Piers, more than anyone else.

  I threw a simple frock over my chemise before sliding my arms through my long pelisse. Though the day had been a warm one, I knew the night would not be so kind. I dropped into a chair at my dressing table. “All right, you may turn around.”

  My voice must have sounded a bit serious, for when he whirled to face me he wore the oddest expression, as if he’d not seen me for some time.

  He pushed off the corner of the wall and was behind me in one fell swoop. My fingers went to work on my hair, but the strands felt slippery under his watchful eyes. Suddenly rather clumsy, I dropped one strand then another as I attempted a quick chignon.

  “Can I be of assistance?”

  I met his gaze in the looking glass and my heart all but stopped. Hadn’t I dreamed of such a moment? Piers and me, alone in our bedchamber preparing for the evening. The whims of a different time and place.

  He didn’t seem to notice my discomfiture as his fingers brushed my neck to hold the bottom part of the coiffure. My hands clenched briefly, then released. After all, it was the first intimate touch I’d received from a gentleman since the assault, and the shock of it left me frozen to my chair, but not in the way I’d imagined it would.

  No, this was quite different.

  He gave a breathy laugh that tickled my shoulder. “I can’t say I know what I’m doing, but I suppose I won’t make it any worse.”

  As Piers leaned over to secure a hairpin, I caught a tantalizing whiff of his familiar cologne and it transported me back in time. Carefully I focused on the warmth of his skin, the delightful trickle of nerves that radiated down my back. It was strange really, how a simple touch could be so utterly wonderful yet alarming at the same time, like riding on the back of a runaway horse—the initial rush of exhilaration, followed quickly by the all-too-real and desperately terrifying loss of control.

  I grasped another hairpin and forced my chignon firmly into place before dropping my arms to my sides. “There.” As I sat, inwardly quivering, I employed a great deal of control to add over my shoulder, “And thank you.”

  It was impossible to know what he was thinking, but as he stepped away, I caught a fleeting expression on his face. He, too, had sensed the invisible emotions passing between us. Turning to the window, he raked his fingers through his hair, but he couldn’t completely hide the waver in his voice. “We’d better hurry.”

  Chapter 15

  The dark of night had brought with it a galling wind that surged against Loxby’s ancient stones and cast a spell of considerable unease on the horses.

  Piers kept Gypsy close as we started up the narrow path toward the crest of the hill. We could no more bring a lantern than announce our arrival to the people at the abbey, so the hazy white light of the moon flickering through the clouds stood as our only guide.

  Piers had been quiet most of the ride, but as I followed him into a grove of trees, he motioned me closer, his voice a whisper. “This is a good spot to dismount and tie up the horses. We’ll have to be careful as we make our way on foot across the open valley.” He dismounted and secured Gypsy before coming to assist me.

  I slipped into his waiting arms. I’m not certain his hands lingered at my waist any longer than was proper, but heavens, it felt that way. At length, I shied away, pretending the need to adjust my pelisse but, more importantly, the gallop of my heart.

  He took my hand, tugging me close. “I’d like to make our way around the back of the abbey. There’s a cut in the land there where we won’t be seen. That is, until we climb the small cliff. Do you think you can you manage such a thing?”

  I nodded, unable to answer aloud, certain my voice would betray the wave of nerves feathering up my arm from the warmth of his hand.

  We dodged the sharp fingers of low-hanging tree branches and the sticky nails of dense shrubs as we exited the small grove where we’d tied off the horses. More than once I had to free my pelisse.

  We crouched as we skittered across the meadow, through the tall grass, and wound our way closer to the River Sternway. There was a small outcropping of dark rock that terminated into a plateau.

  As soon as we were safely out of sight and with the river burbling behind us, Piers pulled me close once again. “I’ll give you a boost onto that ledge and then swing myself up.” He cupped his hands and I placed my half boot into his fingers. With little effort I was thrust upward toward the edge of the rock where it was up to me to pull myself the rest of the way. I used my forearms to give myself just a few more inches before finally catching my knee on the ledge. It certainly wasn’t ladylike, but with one hard push I was able to roll into the cleft of the rock and now lay panting in a pocket of damp soil and dead leaves.

  I closed my eyes, refusing to consider what insects might call the unfortunate spot home.

  Piers’s fingers appeared at the cliff’s edge, and I sat up to watch his approach. He launched himself off a nearby tree, using it as leverage to scale the short face of the rock as if he’d done so a thousand times.

  Still on his feet, he crouched to make his way to my side and pointed to the ledge above us before slowly raising his head where he could see. He dropped his arm back from the rock’s upper edge and curled his fingers, urging me to follow his ascent. I scrambled up beside him.

  I’m not certain what I expected to see over the top ledge, but it wasn’t three bowed heads swathed in black cloaks and huddled around a small fire. There was no conversation on the breeze, only a low hum, as if one of the men were chanting. I glanced at Piers. Were they?

  He had a sour look about his face, his brows low, his nose wrinkled.

  I opened my mouth to whisper a question but stopped when I caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of my eye. The strange cloaked group stood, and the men followed each other in a circular pattern around the fire, mumbling the same words over and over again. It only took me a moment to be certain they were speaking Latin.

  Piers’s arm tensed at my side as he lifted his hand to wipe his face. There was a solemn intensity in his gaze, and I bit the inside of my cheek.

  What on earth was Avery a part of?

 
The billowing wind ruffled the long black cloaks for several minutes, causing the firelight to dance in and out of darkness. Finally the members of the society took their seats on the remains of broken stones.

  It was Hugh who spoke first, his tone anxious. “I am sorry to have to summon you both here on such short notice, but with so much at stake, particularly for me, I have to have my questions answered.”

  Tony’s voice rent the night air like a low ship’s horn. “Don’t go up into the boughs, Hugh. We’ve all placed our bets same as you.”

  “But neither of you will be ruined should our scheme fall apart.”

  I could see Avery’s shoulders move as he spoke. “I planned to come to your house straightaway. You needn’t have summoned us. With guests at Loxby, you put us all at great risk.”

  Hugh popped to his feet. “It’s been over a week. What did you expect me to do, sit around and wait?”

  Avery’s arm shot out. “Sit down. Stop making a cake of yourself, and I’ll tell you all.”

  There was a second of strained silence, but Hugh did as he was told, retaking his seat at an angle, his fist pressed to his chin. “Well, go on then.”

  Avery’s covered head faced Hugh then Tony. “Lord Kendal says everything is in place. His engagement changes nothing.”

  “But he’s already sent out invitations for the ball. You mean to tell me he doesn’t care a fig that all those people will be scrambling about his house? What if our benefactor learns of what we have planned?”

  Avery shrugged. “Kendal assures me that won’t be the case. We all took a solemn vow, Hugh, and I for one don’t plan to put any of our lives at risk. Kendal says the two events are to remain completely separate. His allegiance to our plan, or more importantly his friends, has not changed. And I believe him.”

  Hugh’s voice almost squeaked. “You would.”

  “What is that supposed to mean? Of course I do, as should you. The bond between the four of us goes way beyond this society. And we know who his secret bearer is.”

  Tony leaned forward, his cloak billowing forward until he shoved it out of his face. “We need to get back on task. Now, I’ve agreed to the modifications to the chap’s curricle, but I don’t want to see him dead.”