The Vanishing at Loxby Manor

by Abigail Wilson

  We bolted for the cover of a nearby wall, inching toward our horses, but we were met by the barrel of a pistol glinting in the moonlight. Mr. Cavanagh used the half wall as support as he inched forward. “Not another step.”

  Hugh and I froze at first, and then he shoved me behind him. “It’s me you want. Leave Miss Halliwell out of this.”

  Mr. Cavanagh smiled. “You’re not in any position to make demands, Hugh. I promise you, I won’t miss a second time, not at this range. And don’t worry about Miss Halliwell; this particular shot is for you. I need Miss Halliwell to entice her brother to fulfill his pledge. There are many people in America who support the French cause.”

  Hugh squeezed my hand and for a breathless second I knew what he meant to do, yet I was powerless to stop him. He whispered over his shoulder as he lunged forward. “Run.”

  But I didn’t. My feet were frozen to the ground, my muscles stiff. My mind screamed, Get away, hide! But I simply stood there, my whole body shaking like that night in the tea field.

  The shot was deafening. The smoke burned my eyes. Hugh stumbled back a pace. At first I hoped he’d merely reacted to the sudden sound as I had, but a large crimson stain fought its way through his shirt and waistcoat, spreading across his left chest. He touched the dark circular spot a moment, dumbstruck as he groped at me, then fell backward to the ground.

  I raced to support his head, but it was no use. Mr. Cavanagh had hit his mark. Hugh Daunt was already dead.

  I pushed to my feet, starting first one direction then the next, eventually stumbling back against the fractured wall. My gaze tightened on Mr. Cavanagh, who was groping his pockets for what I could only assume was another pistol. I fled around the wall’s edge and into the inner L of the abbey ruins.

  “Let me assure you, Miss Halliwell, I have another pistol, and you’ve backed yourself into a corner. I’ve only to wait you out.” Mr. Cavanagh stepped into a beam of moonlight, utilizing the empty window ledge to support himself. “But I will say, bravo, Miss Halliwell. You’ve been a rather pleasant distraction these last few weeks. I had a feeling you might eventually figure out everything, which is why I already sent that note to your brother informing him of my concerns for your safety. I had hoped to negotiate with you. I even tried to nudge you into the arms of my wayward son, hoping I could use that as leverage with Arthur, but I see now none of that will be possible. Hugh will do nicely as your murderer. After all, when everyone finds out it was he who killed Seline, they shall be ripe to believe this as well.”

  I edged closer to the wall, keeping to the shadows so he wouldn’t get a clear shot. “It was you who placed the brooch on the road to Rushridge, wasn’t it? You wanted us to think it was Hugh who had killed Seline.”

  “It certainly would have been easier to get him out of the way, but this will do just as well. Arthur has always hated the nobility, and if I nudge him into thinking the authorities are corrupt in the handling of both Seline’s and your murder? Believe me, your brother will be much easier to manage with the right reason to join our little revolution. His sympathies have never lain with the Crown.”

  “He would not be so utterly foolish. He’s grown up from the lad you remember.” Caught between the stone remains and the river, I knew I was trapped. If only I could keep him talking, I might think of something. “And Avery—I suppose you’ve been manipulating him as well.” Carefully I crept closer and closer to the ledge that held the faceless statue.

  “Love is always the perfect manipulator. Throw in a bit of misplaced affection for his mother, and I knew I didn’t need to worry about him. He did not want to see his mother taken to Newgate prison for attempting to kill her own husband.”

  “You forced him to write that testimonial—the loyalty pledge. You told him you’d never fund a marriage between him and Priscilla otherwise, didn’t you?”

  He smiled. “What a clever chit you are. Of course I did.”

  I could feel the hard edge of the statue with my left hand, and Mr. Cavanagh was inching forward. He would be assured of a shot in a matter of seconds. I felt desperately for the crevice between the statue and the wall.

  Piers and I were masters at finding secret places. I doubted anyone besides Avery knew of our alcove at Loxby Manor. Was there enough space for me to slip in here? It would be terribly tight, but possible, I thought. I would have to make my move at just the right moment. Mr. Cavanagh only had one shot, after all.

  His steps seemed to hesitate as he talked, thus I kept him doing so. “What about Miles? Why kill him?”

  “Who do you think helped me bury Seline? Miles found me minutes after I made the terrible mistake. I paid him, or shall I say blackmailed him, to assist me in burying her. I could not have done so alone. He would have made an easy murderer, but I had already decided Hugh would fill that role. After all, it was his fault she’s dead.”

  “But why kill Miles later?”

  “He was supposed to leave the country. Kendal must have enticed the fool to stay for that ridiculous race those boys were plotting. I never would have allowed the thing to go off, not if it helped Hugh in any way. Besides, I don’t make empty threats, my dear. Baker has been my informant in the house. Servants talk. It was quite easy to learn of Miles’s decision to remain at Whitecaster Hall. When everyone left me alone at Loxby the night of the ball, it was rather easy to make my way to Whitecaster on horseback and lure Miles from the stables. He was never all that bright.”

  I gritted my teeth. We’d given Mr. Cavanagh the perfect opportunity to sneak out unobserved.

  Another inch closer and my arm slipped into the depths of the opening between the statue and the wall. “When did Mrs. Cavanagh realize you weren’t completely blind?”

  “Oh, I’ve always been rather ingenious. It’s been a well-kept secret by Baker and myself for many years, although I daresay my wife began to suspect my duplicity of late. At the beginning I saw only shadows for some time, and I knew I would never be myself again. I decided to utilize Avery and his intrepid friends to bring about my wishes, keeping the truth about my condition to myself. It wasn’t hard. Those boys were ripe for a gentlemen’s club. It has only been in the past year that I began pushing myself, using the night to gain strength. Now . . .”

  He stopped and lifted his arm to aim the pistol, steadying his hand with his other. My moment had come.

  In a flash I bent and jerked my body into the black shadow of the faceless statue, but I heard no shot. I’d moved prematurely. Mr. Cavanagh’s eyesight, however, was not good enough to track where my movements had led me. To him, it must have looked like I simply disappeared.

  Gasping for breath behind the cold stone, I watched as he glanced about, dipping his head both one way and then the next, but he never directed the pistol away from the small alcove. “I know you are there somewhere hiding, probably congratulating yourself on your ingenuity. But remember, all I must do is listen.”

  I cringed, tugging my arms into my chest. Unexpectedly, the statue moved. It was only a wobble, but my heart leapt into my throat. The large, menacing structure was somehow off balance. Perhaps that is why it had fallen on its creator in the first place. I wriggled my hands farther up my body and placed them flat on the statue’s smooth, damp back. Again, the mountainous stone tipped forward before rocking back into place.

  It would take a great deal of effort, and I would have to time my attack perfectly, but I now had a chance. I closed my eyes for a brief second and opened my mouth. “You’ll be hanged for treason.” I peeked around the edge of the stone.

  The moonlight lit a smile on Mr. Cavanagh’s face. “How so?” He stalked forward, his gaze tight on the statue.

  “Because Piers won’t rest until he knows all.”

  Mr. Cavanagh placed his boot on the narrow ledge, and my muscles contracted, thrusting my body forward with every bit of strength I had left. At first I thought the surge would not be enough to unseat the structure, but I was able to wedge my foot against the wall, which ga
ve me the leverage I needed to send it crashing forward straight toward Mr. Cavanagh.

  He screamed, attempting to dodge the heavy stone, but he was too slow, his movements far too clumsy. The years he’d spent lying in his room had taken a toll. The rock caught the back of his legs, pummeling him down to the grassy field below.

  The inescapable sounds of the collision reverberated over the ancient walls until the last stone lay motionless and a deathly calm descended over the once hallowed ground. I dared not move for a full three seconds, my heartbeat galloping, my breaths coming shallow and quick.

  Mr. Cavanagh lay utterly still, the statue lengthwise across his middle, and I knew he would not walk away a second time.

  Pounding hooves drummed their way across the meadow until I could see a small band of riders approaching fast. I slunk against the abbey wall, my hand pressed to my chest, until I made out one face in the shifting moonlight.

  It was Piers.

  Then I saw Avery and Tony . . . and Lord Kendal?

  Piers began his dismount strides before his horse drew to a halt. His eyes were only for me, and I raced to meet his plunging embrace. His hand was at my neck and then my head and shoulders. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  I shook my head, and he pulled me tight once more.

  He gasped for breath, his voice a ragged whisper. “Thank God. I never should have left you alone.”

  My pulse ran wild as I looked up into his eyes. “How did you know to come back? And your arm!” I took a step back to assess him. “You rode all this way?”

  “Thankfully the wound has remained free of infection.” He took a quick glance at his left shoulder. “It still plagues me, but nothing could keep me away from you, not after my mother sent that terrifying note.”

  “She what?”

  “She sent Mr. Lacy earlier today with a letter saying she feared you might end up dead if I didn’t return at once.”

  My lips parted. “Well, she was right!” Suddenly my arms felt heavy at my side. “Oh, Piers. It was your father all along. He had so many twisted plans. He’s a traitor and a murderer.”

  Piers lowered his gaze. “I know it all. Kendal has been apprising me of his dealings while we rode to stop him. But it seems you already had him in hand. How did you get out here? We were riding for Loxby but heard gunshots.”

  “It’s such a long story.” I touched my forehead. “Hugh is dead, Piers. Your father shot him.”

  Piers went white in the moonlight as Avery walked up and gripped my arm. “I don’t know what we would have done if we’d not found you standing here.”

  I gave him a small smile. “Priscilla is waiting at Rushridge, and is probably in a fearful state. She must be told of what happened to Hugh.”

  Avery nodded, but it was a difficult one. I didn’t envy what lay ahead for him.

  Piers helped me to a seat on a nearby stone. “All is settled between Kendal and me. He had every intention of shooting slightly wide, but he had to make it look real. My father would have heard otherwise. He’s been controlling him for years. Kendal intended a flesh wound at the most or to miss completely, but his nerves got the best of him.”

  “A flesh wound?”

  “He told me it was my father who kept up the Gormogons in secret after the law was passed. They had far-reaching plans for France and Britain. I suppose they thought it noble at one time, but somewhere along the line everything changed. He used Avery and his friends to do his bidding when his own years and infirmity kept him in his room.”

  Piers ran his hand down his face. “He forced Kendal to enrage me into the duel five years ago. My father needed me out of the way. He knew I would never align with his principles about France. He figured I wouldn’t survive the duel, but when I didn’t show up at all, he cornered Kendal into denouncing me.”

  I shifted closer. “Oh, Piers. Hugh and I read the loyalty pledges before he was killed. Your father paid several others to cut you in London. You had no chance to come about. He wanted to send you scurrying off to the countryside to hide.”

  Piers let out a tight breath. “It was his idea that I move outside of Liverpool.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “Seline was indeed an accident, but I don’t think he lost much sleep over her death. He had disconnected himself from his family years before, if he even ever knew how to love. He was a bitter man whom I will never understand.”

  He stood and extended his hand. “Let me take you back to Loxby. It’s time we speak openly with my mother.”

  * * *

  Mrs. Cavanagh sat perched on the settee in the drawing room when Piers and I entered the house. A grave look had settled into the lines on her face, her shoulders hunched over like a crow. So subtle was the spark of interest that glinted in her lonely eyes as we walked into the room, I’m not certain I’d seen it at all.

  “Where’s Avery?” Her words were more of a grumble than a question.

  Piers stepped forward. “He’s ridden to Rushridge to see to Priscilla. Hugh Daunt was killed tonight.”

  Her eyes widened, but Piers gave her no chance to respond.

  “As well as Father.”

  Her hand shot to her mouth, then quivered against her lips, her voice tumbling out in an incredulous mix of whispers. “He’s gone. Dead?”

  “He was crushed beneath a statue at the abbey.”

  Her eyelids narrowed as she shifted her gaze to me. “Then it is done at last.”

  I took a seat at her side. “We’re safe.”

  There were several seconds of tears, but I did not think them wrought by grief; relief more like.

  Piers joined us on the sofa and took a deep breath. “I’ve been appraised of what happened five years ago between you and Father, and I must admit, I’m left reeling from the revelations this day has brought. I need you to tell me once and for all what happened in the stables that day.”

  Her hands went to work on her handkerchief. “It was an impulsive decision, one I’ve regretted since the moment I struck him.” More tears.

  I’d seen a great deal of drama from Mrs. Cavanagh since I’d arrived, but for the first time her sentiments felt real, as if we’d found our way to the last act of the play.

  Her eyes slipped closed, her hand finding Piers’s on the cushion. “You see, you had left for Liverpool only a month prior and I was still caught up in the aftermath of the scandal. Quite by accident, I stumbled upon a private conversation in your father’s office. At first I paid no mind, but then I heard your name.

  “Mr. Cavanagh was gruff and short. He said you were growing to be quite a problem. He was upset with how open you’d been about denouncing French ideals, and he was worried you had found out too much information about his little group. The other man in the office, who I didn’t know at the time, asked if Mr. Cavanagh would be willing to do whatever it took to silence you, and he agreed, just like that—like it was nothing to him. Like you were nothing. He said the cause was more important than blood.”

  I couldn’t help but gasp.

  Mrs. Cavanagh didn’t skip a beat. “I was shocked to the core, angry beyond belief. Who was this man I had married? A monster? I suppose I wasn’t thinking straight from that moment on. I hid in my room for some time before I saw him out my window heading to the stables. That’s where I found him and revealed what I’d overheard. He merely laughed. Laughed!

  “I don’t even remember bringing the candlestick in with me, but there it was, in my hands. Avery saw the whole thing from the stable door, as did Mr. Lacy. We were all caught up in a nightmare, and they’ve both been forced to protect me ever since.”

  She went on. “Avery and I decided at once it was best for you to stay in Liverpool where you were safe, and I knew I couldn’t face you again, not after what I had done. I thought if I kept you at arm’s length I could bear the shame and keep you safe at the same time. I even thought to keep you out of the will so Mr. Cavanagh wouldn’t turn his sights back on you.

  “I hid the broken end of the candlesti
ck in my handkerchief and kept it in my desk drawer as a reminder. I would take it out from time to time and look at it to keep me from writing to you. When Mr. Cavanagh awoke the next day, we told him that a horse had kicked him and caused his memory confusion. He never knew it was me, at least not at first.

  “But then Seline disappeared and everything went sideways. Knowing the monster that lived in our house, I couldn’t help but consider your father. But how could it be true? How could he do such a thing, blind and feeble as he was? So much of me wanted to believe Seline had really run off with that stable boy. I never even considered the idea that Mr. Cavanagh wasn’t blind. He had us all fooled . . . and for so long. Baker must have been his confidant for years. I know that now.

  “I found Mr. Cavanagh’s room empty for the first time but a few days ago. I was terrified at what such a thing could possibly mean. I began watching him, studying his movements. Then I caught him yesterday in my dressing room without assistance, rummaging around behind my screen. He had full control of his faculties, and I knew for certain his eyesight was not as poor as he’d led us to believe. Everything was moving too fast, and you and Avery had already left. I didn’t know what to do.”

  The weight of her words drew her shoulders back against the sofa.

  Piers cast me a quick glance before turning back to his mother. “It is good to know it all finally, and I realize exposing your role in all this must have been extremely difficult. But shame is an insidious illness that only seeks to weaken and destroy you. I know that better than most.

  “Baker shall have to be turned over to the authorities.” He dipped his head. “I have no intention of leaving Loxby Manor, nor any of this family ever again. We have a great deal to sort out and much to understand and forgive, but we shall mourn our losses and find a way to move on together.”

  Chapter 30

  The following weeks passed by surrounded by a large black cloud. I rarely saw Piers, as the official investigation into the murders had begun. We all knew there would be no way to sidestep the inevitable scandal Mr. Cavanagh had brought upon the entire family.