“Nor do I.” Avery’s shoulders crunched forward. “Truth be told, I’m not easy about any of this business, particularly with Kendal involved. He’s got a hot head and an even nastier temper.”
Hugh’s hands shot up. “Listen to the two of you. What do you want, a compassionate stroll down the lane? This is my estate and future we’re speaking of as well as Priscilla’s. I for one am glad we have someone like Kendal bound to our society. Some things just need to be taken care of, one way or another.”
Avery sighed.
Hugh thrust out a finger, “Admit it, Avery. You never did like the man. It’s not Kendal’s fault that your brother hadn’t the nerve to face him on an open field.”
Avery shoved to his feet. “If I hadn’t taken an oath, I’d call you out right here for that.”
Tony pushed them apart. “Calm down. What are we, children?” He turned first to Avery. “Piers can defend his own honor. He’d be embarrassed to see the way you’re acting. And, Hugh, no more secret meetings. Everything is arranged. There’s no turning back now. The society will meet again after the ball, not before.”
I felt Piers’s strong hand in the darkness seconds before he pulled me close. “We need to hide . . . to the horses . . . quickly now.”
He slithered down the incline, then raised his arms, his voice little more than a breath on the wind, “Careful.”
I shimmied to the corner of the rock and swung my legs into the black abyss behind me, crawling on my stomach until I tipped over the edge. Dangling there, my hands slipping on the wet dirt and cold rock face, there was a second where I felt myself falling before Piers’s hands were at my waist guiding me to the ground.
I could hear the scuffling of feet above, and Piers and I both looked up the moment the light moved. They were dispersing, and Tony and Hugh would inevitably take the river path home, but if we tried to cross the meadow, we’d be seen by Avery. With his right hand at my back, Piers motioned me into the dense brush that lay between the rock and the river, and I pushed my way into the brambles. His whispered voice directed me to a small opening on the ground.
There was little room to move, let alone stretch out my feet, so I pulled my knees to my chest and pressed back as far as I could against the cold, hard rock face. Piers was right behind me, forced to slide in close at my side. It took only a moment for us to realize we might not both fit. He tried his long legs first one direction then the other before letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Perhaps if we stack them just so.” I pointed to the ground. “Here, extend them under mine.”
The moonlight revealed how wide his eyes grew at my suggestion, but I don’t think he knew I’d seen the gesture as his voice remained a calm whisper. “If you think it best. This is hardly proper, but it’s imperative the group doesn’t know we were here.”
I shrugged. “Nothing about this night has been proper.”
We scrunched in closer and closer, determined to remain hidden, and though I’d started out on the frigid ground, somehow I ended up in Piers’s lap, his warm arms wrapped around me, a bittersweet breath from the past. I’d made the suggestion without really thinking how utterly close it would bring us and what that might inadvertently ignite.
I’d feared intimacy since the attack, afraid of the pounding race of my heart and the resulting panic as my throat swelled shut. Granted, I’d suffered such an episode only once since the assault, at a dance in Ceylon a few months later, and the fear of its return was stifling at times.
But this was Piers with me now. Nothing was ever the same with him.
I felt his laugh without hearing it. “I can’t say I ever thought I’d be in this position again.”
“Again?”
“Shhh!”
I’d spoken too loudly, but really, what was he referring to?
He guided my ear close to his mouth. “Remember when you hurt your foot that day on the road?”
My heart stopped. “Well, of course I do. How could I forget?”
His body seemed to relax. “You had me a bit worried there. Sometimes I get the strangest feeling you don’t remember anything about us.” An awkward pause. “You were in my arms at the gatehouse, I mean. You were cold. Remember?”
“I suppose I was.”
“Things were so different then.” His voice sounded almost melancholy. “We were different.”
I fought against the ache filling my chest. I owed him a great deal for all he’d done for me, but I knew myself too well to allow the conversation to proceed any further. Piers would never understand what transpired a few months after I left for Ceylon.
I felt his muscles stiffen. He yearned to know my secret, that hidden piece of me I didn’t share with anyone.
It was in the resulting silence that we both realized the sounds at the abbey had died away, and we were entirely alone. I crawled from our hiding space and shook off the dust from my pelisse. Piers emerged a few steps behind me, and we made our way across the meadow to the horses.
I slowed my approach, allowing him to draw up beside me. “What do you think about what our friends said regarding Lord Kendal’s curricle race?”
His voice came out grim. “About rigging it? I’m shocked.”
“I cannot believe Avery would do something so foolish. Not after your family has been through so much.”
Piers let out a long breath. “Neither can I.”
“And the risk to the other driver—Tony seemed to think that possible.”
Piers took a moment to answer, his focus on the far-off trees swaying in the moonlight. “It is concerning indeed, but I was actually thinking about something quite different.”
We’d reached the horses and I turned to await his help to mount, but he didn’t extend his hands, not yet at least. “What if Seline was somehow involved in this scheme? She saw the light on the hill that night and knew exactly who would be here. If Avery can be trusted with his explanation, she came to speak with Lord Kendal.”
My mind replayed every detail of the night in my room. “She did say she had a plan. What if she knew something about Kendal’s curricle race?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Or she overheard it that night.”
A painful gasp escaped my mouth. “Of course that gives us . . .” I could hardly finish the sentence, my mind awash with the implications such an idea posed. “A plausible reason for one of our dear friends to wish to silence her.”
Chapter 16
I passed the remainder of the night in a state of fitful agony, the sleep I did manage ruled by dark thoughts. Each member of Avery’s secret society shared a special relationship with Seline. Though I could no more imagine any one of the four gentlemen harming her, they did have a reason to be concerned about her knowing their secret.
Hugh was clearly taken by her, but he also had the most to lose should the curricle race not take place. His family was in the basket and he was depending on the money to turn everything around. Both his mother and his sister were counting on him. And then there was my brooch. Piers and I found it on the main road to his estate. Seline must have made her way to Rushridge at some point.
Lord Kendal’s reputation was as sharp as his temper. Everyone knew he won any contest he entered—at any cost. He’d actually put a bullet in his own cousin during a duel, even when his cousin swore he’d delope. Lord Kendal would have no scruples where the race was concerned, and he would do anything to ensure his deception remained a secret.
Tony had told me he had money riding on the race as well, and his father was a stickler for rules. He could not chance the possibility of getting disinherited. He would be left destitute.
Then there was Avery. Confident, affable Avery. What possible motive could he have to silence his sister? Unless he feared the ramifications of another scandal in the family. He wasn’t the heir; however, he would lose something else he so desperately clung to—his mother’s affections. She could never forgive him if he betrayed her too.
I was still hashing th
rough the possibilities when I crossed the landing the following morning. I knew Piers would be gone on his morning ride, and part of me was glad he’d be absent. More had passed between us the previous night than simply the investigation. He still cared for me, one way or another.
I had always been like a member of the Cavanagh family. And of late I’d hoped Piers could find a way to look upon me like a sister. But after a night spent crouching in his arms, I knew it could never be, not for either of us. My skin would always tingle. My fingers would ache to touch him. And the dreaded question of what would happen next might forever hang in the air between us. I stopped at the head of the grand staircase, my gaze drifting to the alcove, then to the carpeted steps at my feet.
As soon as we discovered what happened to Seline, it was time to begin my search for a governess position. Loxby Manor could never be a place of refuge for me. I’d been fooling myself since the moment I came back. Even after he left the estate, Piers Cavanagh would haunt the halls of the house as well as my heart.
The breakfast room was quiet, and at first I thought I was alone, but as I took in the whole of the room I found Mrs. Cavanagh brooding over a plate of ham.
I tried a smile. “Good morning.”
She returned a nod, but I could tell it would be one of her sullen days when conversation would be difficult to manage, and I wasn’t all that certain I would be up to the task after the night I’d had.
I secured a plate of food, some bread and cheese and a cup of coffee, then took a seat at her side. Mrs. Cavanagh had a pewter visage—ashen face, cloudy eyes, the long stare of days of worry and pain.
I took a sip of coffee, my attention drifting to her meager plate of food, which looked untouched. “Have you been able to eat anything today?”
She shook her head. “It all tastes bitter in my stomach these days.”
“Even a few bites would help. You must keep up your strength.”
Her focus slid across the table, but she didn’t make a move for her food. “I’ve been pondering what you said the other day, about the tooth powder. I think you may be onto something. I don’t believe Seline would have left without it.”
So that was the reason for the black mood. Mrs. Cavanagh was finally coming to understand the mystery surrounding Seline’s disappearance.
She rested her forehead on the palm of her hand. “If Seline did not go to Gretna Green, then where is she?” She took a quick peek at me from beneath her fingers, and I could almost feel the imperceptible pull, her thirst for my answer.
“What do you know about Seline’s relationship with Hugh?”
She perked up at once. “I won’t deny they’ve a history. Hugh’s been in love with her since he could put two words together.”
“And they’ve remained close?”
“Seline revels in his attentions. She loves flattery and Hugh is one of the best, but she has no real intentions where he is concerned.”
I took a bite of bread. “Do you think he fully understood the status of their relationship? He showed me the other day where he’d like to build a folly on his estate. He mentioned how much Seline would like it.”
Mrs. Cavanagh coughed out a laugh. “What a fool that boy has always been. Everyone knows Seline would never stoop to marry someone like him.”
A twinge brought the hairs on my neck to attention. “But everyone was so willing to believe she had run off with Miles Lacy.”
Mrs. Cavanagh shifted in her seat, her fingers scurrying to the handle on her cup. “We didn’t know what to think. Mark my word, I never believed she’d kiss him in the stables either. In daylight, no doubt! Where anyone might see. And here I thought she was clever all this time.”
“What about Tony Shaw? He did propose at one time.”
“That was merely to appease his grandmama. He’d been caught in a rather delicate indiscretion, and she demanded a proposal. I daresay he picked the only girl who would satisfy his relations and whom he was equally certain would refuse him.”
Mrs. Cavanagh tapped her fingers on the white tablecloth. “What are you getting at with these questions?” Her voice sounded almost eager. “Do you believe Tony or Hugh could have something to do with her disappearance?” She added with a sly whisper, “A secret marriage perhaps?”
I supposed a marriage to either gentleman would be preferable to Miles Lacy, but I didn’t share her rosy conclusions. “All I know is four gentlemen were the last to see Seline before she vanished, and it’s high time we figured out what happened that night.”
Her eyes took in every detail of my face in her controlled, detached way. Then they opened wide. “I’ve never been more glad of your visit to Loxby Manor. You’re right of course. One of those boys must be hiding something, and Avery is far too close to them to decipher the truth.” She took my hand in hers. “I’m counting on you to expose their lies—to find Seline.” She gripped harder, driven by an overwhelming wave of emotions, no doubt. “Wait . . . You said four gentlemen. Was Lord Kendal also there that night?”
* * *
I was forced to seek out Piers that same day. We needed to make plans for what was next to be done. Lord Kendal had to be investigated of course, but how? Piers would never be received at Whitecaster Hall, and I could hardly go there myself.
Mr. Baker pointed me to the library where I found Piers deep in the process of searching out a book. He didn’t hear me enter the room at first, and as I stood there in the doorway, I found myself hesitant to alert him to my presence.
Loxby Manor boasted a considerable library, and as I breathed in the musty scent of paper, I took a quick glance about the room. Although the books stood in dire need of a good dusting, they were handsomely displayed along three tall bookcases. A small, white, scrolled fireplace centered the room and peeked at me behind two crimson winged chairs.
Piers had removed his jacket and climbed the central bookshelf ladder to peruse the uppermost shelf. A scholar at heart, he’d spent little time refining his physique, but there was a lithe gracefulness to his movements, a familiarity that sparked the same fascination I’d had before. I could barely take my eyes off him.
He extended his arm, leaning as far as he could to reach a book. All at once, the ladder tipped to the side.
I raced across the room, but he’d pushed the old wood as far as it would permit. Just as the tips of his fingers crested the edge of a book, the ladder took one last moan and creaked beneath his feet, separating at the rungs. He clawed at the bookcase as he attempted to slow his descent, but the frantic movement only loosened the top shelf. I arrived a split second after he hit the hard floor. Then the first book struck my shoulder, and I threw my arms over my head, the resulting deluge lasting but a few seconds.
Silence followed the stridency of literature, and slowly I lifted my arms. Books lay sprawled around us, some open, some torn, the ladder split like a banana peel in a heap on the floor. I sneezed, puffs of dust glistening into the air.
My shoulder felt numb, limp even, as if my arm simply hung from the joint. Instinctively, I cradled my elbow.
Piers was quick to my side, his hands urgent but restrained. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, but I knew something was wrong.
Relieved, he rested his back against the bookshelf, an amused expression sneaking onto his face. “Regardless, I daresay help will be here soon. They could probably hear your pert little scream from the stables.”
I slid a few more books from my legs. “Oh, did I scream? I didn’t know it.”
“No?” He chuckled. “What brought you in here?”
“I thought I was saving your skin.”
“Ah, but I’m afraid you took the brunt of it. Here, let me help you to your feet.”
I tried to extend my hand, but I couldn’t.
He stepped back, his smile fading. “You’re not all right.”
“I may have injured my shoulder when the books hit it and I fell, but you needn’t concern yourself. I doubt it’s broken. Perhap
s if I were to lie down in my room.”
“You shall do no such thing.” His arm slipped around my waist. “Come with me to the sofa at once.”
I allowed him to carefully seat me. “Did you fall directly onto your shoulder?”
“I’m not certain. All I remember is extending my hand to prevent the fall.” I attempted to lift my arm once again. “I can’t even move it.”
He felt around the shoulder joint and then winced. “There’s a rather large groove here as well as a bump on the back side. I’m afraid your shoulder may have slipped out of place.”
“Out of place?” My heart stopped. As a child I’d seen such a thing happen to a groom after being bucked from a horse.
Piers’s hands were gentle. “I do have some experience with this sort of thing.” His gaze fell to mine. “Will you trust me to help you?”
“Always.” I swallowed hard.
One simple word, but how it hung on the air like a swirling mist, clouding my vision. I did as Piers instructed and lay down, but my mind could do little more than churn through the complexities of such a word.
I did trust him. The bonds we’d forged in our youth hadn’t broken, not by time or distance, my experiences or his shame. So much had changed for me while I was in Ceylon, but somehow Piers hadn’t.
He knelt beside me and took my hand, lifting my forearm at a ninety-degree angle. “You might want to brace your feet, but try to relax your shoulder.”
I pressed my feet against the armrest and closed my eyes as a sharp slice of pain ripped through my shoulder, then relief.
“Charity?”
Piers sounded as if far away, but then I felt his fingers swipe a loose strand of hair from my forehead and I opened my eyes.
“It’s done. Do you think you can sit up?”
I nodded, and he used my good shoulder to assist me into a sitting position. The room swirled for a moment, then settled into place. Carefully I moved my injured arm and was relieved the pain had significantly abated.
The Vanishing at Loxby Manor Page 15