Was I so very different from Mrs. Cavanagh?
I’d kept my assault a secret to retain my reputation, even though I knew full well I no longer held any intention of marrying. The idea was a sobering one, perhaps not exactly fair, but something to ponder nonetheless. I had a long way to go if I was ever really going to understand myself. Perhaps Mr. Cavanagh was right and I should simply move on, pretend, or otherwise. Inwardly I sighed. If only it were that easy.
I tapped my finger on the book. “Have you heard anything from your brother-in-law in regard to his search?”
“Charles’s letters have been few and far between, but he did write and there is no further news. Seline has simply vanished.” Her voice turned a touch dismal, and I was forced once again to reexamine my perception of Mrs. Cavanagh. She did love Seline in her own way, as she no doubt loved all her children. And she seemed to worry a great deal about Seline’s return. So why did I feel uneasy in her company, almost as if she were keeping some sort of secret?
I watched her pick at her needlepoint as if the two of us were simply enjoying a fine afternoon, but on occasion there was an urgency to her movements. She jerked the needle up and down, her breathing short and fast as her eyes slid readily to the door, the very feel of the room ever changing.
Suddenly Baker entered the drawing room and the silence snapped. Mrs. Cavanagh jumped to her feet, her hand flying to her chest.
He didn’t respond to her hasty movement, but I could see plain as day it had affected him. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Cavanagh requests your presence in his room, ma’am.”
It took a moment for her to answer. “You may inform him I will be there shortly.” Her voice was strong, but when she whirled around to stow away her sewing bag, I caught a glimpse of her face. It was only a second, and I could have easily been reading into what I saw, but her eyes looked pinched, her mouth quivering in a scowl.
I stood as well. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Her eyes met mine, and I was startled to see them shiny with tears. “How kind of you, but as you well know, I am merely passing the days as best I can until I hear word of Seline. Mr. Cavanagh needs me just now, and I should not keep him waiting.”
Chapter 22
Piers entered the receiving room at precisely three o’clock. I stood in the warmth of the front windows when I heard my name, turning to see a rather well-dressed gentlemen in dark blue waiting for me in the doorway. I couldn’t help but notice again how refined Piers had become in my years away.
“Good afternoon.”
Society had never considered him to be naturally handsome, his features a tad unremarkable, his mannerisms a bit clumsy at times; however, when he smiled, I mean really smiled, he possessed the momentary ability to capture one’s attention. I’d tried to put my finger on his allure years ago with little luck. There was just something about his face when it changed. I found myself smiling back.
He accepted his hat and gloves from a waiting servant, and I made my way to join him at the open front door. Beyond the portico stood the waiting curricle, and I cast a questioning look back. “I didn’t know you intended to drive.”
We exited the house and he crossed in front of me, maneuvering into place to assist me into the vehicle. “It is a lovely day, and I’d much rather drive than ride. What do you think? You’ll not catch a chill on the return trip?”
“I have my pelisse. I think a curricle ride sounds delightful.”
I accepted his outstretched hand and mounted the steps up and over the large wheel of the vehicle, where I settled into a long black leather seat. Piers rounded the equipage and swung into his place at my side.
He squared his polished boots on the floor and secured the ribbons, offering me a quick glance before flicking the reins. The vehicle swayed into motion with a lurch, and I gripped the side of the carriage.
Piers’s curricle proved well-sprung, and as we rounded the front drive and began our way down the long road that led out of Loxby, he seemed to relax at my side. The sun was balmy on my skin, and it took me all of three seconds before I found myself drifting back into the past—to the last time Piers and I went driving. I’d been so excited to have a few precious moments alone with him, the chance to sit close, the delicious possibility of more.
I stared down at my lap. How much had changed since then. Today there was a good six inches between us—six inches of impenetrable hurt and shame, an invisible wall we would be fools to cross again. So why did every inch of my being want to do just that?
Piers caught me staring at the bench. “I must confess, I selected this carriage with the intent purpose of speaking with you alone.”
“Oh?” The spring wind was a fragrant one and bluebells littered the roadside. I breathed them in, hoping to control my heart rate. “I’m glad you did.”
He smiled, prodding the butterflies in my stomach to life.
Again I took a deep breath. “I have some things to tell you too, but you first.”
He stared down the road for a long second, a curious wrinkle to his brow. “I wouldn’t normally discuss such a topic with a lady, but you were present at the, uh, challenge.”
“You mean of the duel with Lord Kendal.” I folded my hands in my lap, focusing my gaze on my fingers.
“Yes.” He slowed the horses so he could steal a glance at my face. “I’m sure the murder has kept him busy thus far. He would not be so foolish to meet me with the authorities crawling all over Whitecaster Hall.”
“Then you still intend to—”
“See it through?” He sighed. “Certainly I do.”
“That’s not what I was going to say. I was simply wondering what the arrangements were going to be . . . What you had chosen to use.”
He kept his focus on the road. “It shall be pistols, as I’ve heard Lord Kendal is deadly with a blade. Though I’ve trained with a sword, I would be hard-pressed to call my skills refined.”
“You always had your nose in a book, no time for anything else. You were busy preparing to apply for a fellowship in botany.”
A momentary pause. “You remember that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
The curricle swayed as we rounded the corner, but Piers fell silent.
My mouth slipped open. “You never did apply, did you?”
He made no movement, but I knew my words had affected him. “Life took me on a very different journey.”
“It has a way of doing that.”
He ran the ribbons through his gloved fingers. “What I wanted to tell you is that I’ve gone ahead and sent my seconds to meet with Lord Kendal’s. I hope to have this business over and done with as soon as we’re able to.”
“Who did you arrange to second you?”
“Avery of course, and Tony Shaw. It’s the best I could do on short notice.” He chuckled. “It’s not all that important really. I’m planning to delope.”
“And Lord Kendal, will he shoot into the air as well?”
“I doubt it.” Sarcasm tinted his voice.
“Then you simply plan to stand there and take the bullet?”
He shrugged. “What other choice do I have?” His fingers clenched the ribbons, then relaxed. “I just wanted you to know . . . in case something happened. I’ll need you to look after my father and mother. Avery will have a difficult time of it.”
“Don’t say that, Piers. I know you’ll come back.” The muscles in my back stiffened as I imagined Mrs. Cavanagh learning of Piers’s injury or worse. Regardless of how she acted, it would devastate her. And me. I watched the trees as they passed by to keep my worries at bay.
“Speaking of your mother, I had a rather peculiar conversation with her today. She seemed relieved by Miles Lacy’s death.”
The carriage rattled onto the bridge over the River Sternway, the horses’ hooves echoing off the ancient stones. The oak trees were larger here, stretching their gnarled branches over the bridge’s exit, their roots dipping deep into the hillside to produ
ce the massive plants.
The carriage was still shifting in the shadows when Piers turned to me. “My mother is a complicated creature. I will not claim to understand her, but I know she cares for Seline. Her thoughts become scattered when she’s nervous.”
“Or perhaps afraid?”
“Well, yes.”
The grove of trees broke at the base of a slight incline, and green grass lay as carpet over the slopes.
I leaned forward to see as far as I could across the horizon. “I’m anxious to see Grovesly again. We must be getting close.”
“The outer gates are just over that hill.”
There within the slight valley I caught a glimpse of Tony’s ancestral home. The redbricked structure graced the manicured lawns like a perfectly planted flower, its vast white chimneys pointing to the heavens like petals and the entire affair mirrored on the surface of a motionless lake.
I smiled. “It’s just as beautiful as I remembered.”
Traversing the long drive took several minutes. Finally we coasted to a halt before the grand front entrance where a cluster of blue-liveried servants were prompt to meet us.
We alighted from the curricle and were shown through a small receiving area. Down a long hall and around the corner, we were deposited in a salon of pale green walls and gilded moldings to await our host.
I wandered to the fireplace at the center of the long wall, running my fingers over the familiar intricate surround, which displayed two female figurines, arms stretched upward to support the mantel.
It wasn’t long before Tony barreled into the room on the whiff of a laugh. He stopped just inside the door, turning to speak at the last second to someone behind him. “Tea and cake, if you please.”
He crossed the room, stopping but a few feet in front of us, the genial smile he wore so well fixed on his face. He looked far more at home at his own estate.
“It’s an honor to have you both to Grovesly.” He spoke easily enough, but I noticed a slight hesitation in his voice, or was it merely a weary remnant of the previous few days? It was he who had stumbled upon the body of Miles Lacy, after all.
“Your home is just as lovely as I remember it.” I moved to take a seat on a nearby sofa, which encouraged the gentlemen to be seated as well.
Piers, it seemed, had no time for small talk. “I’m going to be straight with you, Tony. We’ve come for answers. Miles Lacy is dead, and though we’ve kept it somewhat a secret that Seline’s been missing since the night she had an argument with Lord Kendal at Kinwich Abbey, we can do so no longer.”
Tony dipped his chin prettily enough and covered his mouth with his hand, but there was no denying the fact that he already knew of Seline’s disappearance.
Piers recounted what we knew so far as Tony sat stoically rubbing his chin. “I’ll do all I can to help of course, but I have little information to share with you about that night. I was the first one to leave, after all.”
“Then we should start with Miles Lacy. He was mentioned in Seline’s note, which we now believe was forged. They were supposed to have eloped, but clearly they did not.”
His face blanched, and he shrugged defensively. “I never met the fellow in my life before I found his dead body lying behind Kendal’s stables.”
“What exactly happened the day of the murder?”
Tony’s knuckles whitened on the armrest. “I promised Kendal I’d overnight in the stables. Lot of money was riding on that blasted curricle race. I’d never seen anything like it.” He scrunched his lips up. “I’m sure everyone is in a pucker since it had to be postponed due to the murder. I don’t even know if Kendal ever means to have the race now. If he doesn’t . . . Have you been by London to see the book at White’s?”
“No, but Avery made some offhand comment about there being quite a few bets.”
“And then there were so many people at Whitecaster for the engagement ball. I got a little nervous myself. Thought it might be best to watch over Kendal’s horses. When I was asked to give him a small token of luck from Hugh, I only left for a moment.”
“So Hugh was there at the stables?”
“Just for a short time to make sure everything was ready. I sent him home at once. He didn’t look well.”
Piers nodded. “Then what happened?”
“I found Kendal in the ballroom and gave him the letter. Then I returned to the stables.” Tony’s eyes glazed over. “When I entered, it was eerily quiet. I found out later the grooms had gathered upstairs to enjoy some ale. I intended to walk straight to Kendal’s private stall, but a groom drew my attention out the window. That’s where I found Miles, flat on his back in a grove of trees, his skull broken, blood everywhere . . .” Tony glanced at me. “Forgive me, Charity, I don’t mean to be gauche.”
Piers didn’t flinch. “Then he was hit over the head. But why on earth was he at Whitecaster Hall in the first place?”
I startled both gentlemen as I spoke. “I may be able to shed some light on Miles’s presence there. You see, Mr. Lacy received a letter from Miles a few days ago.” I had their attention now. “He told his uncle that he’d taken a job—a lucrative one—at Whitecaster Hall.”
I wasn’t prepared for the wide eyes Piers turned on me, nor the unease on Tony’s face. I wish I’d had a moment to tell Piers about my secret meeting with Mr. Lacy.
Piers was clearly off stride. “When did you speak with Mr. Lacy?”
I turned first to Tony then back to Piers. “I’m so sorry. I should have found a way to tell you before now, but Mr. Lacy sent me a note before we left Loxby the night of the dance. I ended up meeting him at the stables, where he asked me to speak with his nephew at Whitecaster, to try to talk some sense into him. He wanted Miles to leave the country as they’d arranged with Mr. Cavanagh. He thought Miles might be in something deep.”
Tony rested his elbows on his knees. “I hesitate to speak, but so much has happened . . .” He ran his hand down his face. “Apparently Miles is the one Kendal contracted to rig the curricle race.”
Piers remained oddly silent for a long moment. “You were all in on the sabotage?”
“Listen, Piers, don’t blame Avery. It was Hugh’s dratted idea, and he would broker no opposition.”
“What happened after we left the stables that night?”
Tony shook his head. “Kendal was shocked, barking out all kinds of orders. It was mayhem, I tell you, servants running in every direction. I was eventually sent to fetch the magistrate.”
Piers drummed his fingers on his leg. “Tell me about the Gormogons.”
Tony nearly fell out of his chair.
Piers didn’t flinch. “I followed the three of you to the ruins of the abbey. You were talking about the curricle race. What does one have to do with the other?”
Tony squirmed in his chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play coy with me. We’ve been friends our whole lives. If you think I can’t tell when you’re sporting a lie, you will be gravely disappointed. Besides, Avery has already revealed a great deal.”
“Avery, huh? Hugh will have his head.”
Piers sat forward. “Then it was Hugh who revived the Gormogons?”
“Couldn’t say. I’m not a charter member.”
A slight smile creased Piers’s lips. Unwittingly Tony had just confirmed what we’d wondered since finding the medallion—the group was indeed connected in some way to the one Mr. Cavanagh had been a part of.
An innocent diversion of a group of friends? Possibly. That’s certainly what Avery wanted us to believe, but a man was now dead and my friend missing. Everything took on a more sinister tone.
Piers angled his chin. “Then tell me this, Tony. When Kendal was flat on his back in the garden, I ran across a particular note—the one you delivered, no doubt.” Piers couldn’t stop a slight smile. “Within the text were the words loyalty pledge. I saw something similar in a book my father keeps hidden in our library. Perhaps you can save me the
trouble of ferreting it back out. What does the term mean within the Gormogons?”
“You opened Kendal’s letter?”
Piers lifted his eyebrows. “The one Hugh brought you, correct?”
Tony slapped his leg. “Dash it all, Cavanagh! You were always too clever for your own good. Listen, you two, you can stop your games. I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t much.
“I joined the group on a whim. Actually, Hugh got me involved. I had a little trouble with a lady friend of mine, you see.” He adjusted his collar. “I agreed to pledge myself to the betterment of the society and my troubles went away. Simple as that.”
“How did you pledge yourself?”
“Each Gormogon member holds a damaging secret provided to them by a new member. Except for me, because I was the last one to join our small party. Avery holds my pledge and Kendal has Hugh’s. I know that. The secret has to be of great importance, evidence that would cost the person his livelihood, standing in society, or worse. Avery is my ‘secret bearer.’ If I betray the group in any way, he can choose to expose my secret.” Tony ran his hand along his forehead. “Which is entirely possible since I’ve told you both all of this.”
Piers shook his head. “With my father a former member and my brother involved, you can hardly be found liable.”
I leaned in. “What if a person wants to join, and they don’t have a secret?”
Tony dipped his chin. “Everyone has a secret.”
My chest felt heavy, and I looked away, a mix of shock and embarrassment pumping through my veins. Tony was right in a way. Even I had a secret.
I only hoped one of the gentlemen didn’t see through the unease crawling across my face. To my great relief, neither said a word. That is, not until Piers and I were alone in the curricle on the road back to Loxby.
He slowed the horses to a walk, then halted them altogether beneath the sweeping branches of a nearby elm. He said nothing at first.
The Vanishing at Loxby Manor Page 20