A Lady of His Own (29 page)

He’d been watching; he grasped her hips, steadied her, then stood and offered his arm. Met her gaze as she took it. “You obviously need more practice.”

Another laugh bubbled up. “I’ll think about it.”

She thought she’d had the last word, but as he handed her down the steps, he murmured, “Do.”

Wicked promise and arrogant warning combined.

They remounted and ambled down and around into the stable yard. Canter came himself, reporting that there’d been no action through the day.

Much
he
knew. She refused to meet Charles’s eyes as he lifted her down. Taking his arm, they strolled, not as quickly as usual, into the house.

He saw her to her room, then continued down the corridor to his.

Still pleasantly aglow, she sighed, and rang for Ellie. Sitting on her dressing stool, she unpinned her hair, brushed it, then slowly, wits drifting, re-coiled it.

Only then did she realize Ellie hadn’t appeared.

That was such a strange occurrence, she rose and went to the door. Opening it, she headed for the back stairs. Reaching the landing, she heard voices; peering over the balustrade, she saw Figgs patting Ellie’s shoulder firmly, but the look on Figgs’s face was distracted.

“I know, ma’am.” Ellie hiccupped. “I’ll go right up.”

Ellie had obviously been crying.

“What’s the matter?” Penny went quickly down the stairs. “Is something wrong?”

Figgs and Ellie straightened; they exchanged glances, then Figgs faced Penny as she stepped onto the tiled floor. “It’s Mary, my lady. The parlor tweeny. She went out last evening—I thought it was for a walk to meet Tom Biggs down by the stable, but Tom didn’t see her, and Ellie thinks Mary went to meet some other new fellow.”

“And?” Penny prompted when Figgs fell silent.

“Mary didn’t come home last night. We’ve been expecting her any hour, but then we thought maybe one of her brothers had come and met her while she was out and called her urgently home, or something of the sort.” Figgs sighed, and met Penny’s eyes. “We sent a lad and he’s just got back—Mary’s family hasn’t seen her either, not since her last day off.”

A cold, black vise closed about Penny’s stomach. “No one’s seen her since she left last night?”

“No, my lady. And she’s not the sort to do such a thing—not at all. And her things are still here—she didn’t take anything with her.”

Penny looked at Ellie, woebegone and clearly imagining the worst. “Did Mary say anything about this man she went to meet?”

“Not particular, m’lady. Just that he was tall and ’and-some, and not in the usual way of things.”

Figgs drew in a breath. “We was wondering, my lady, Norris and me, whether we should tell his lordship?”

Nicholas wouldn’t have the first idea what to do, but it was now his house, or at least his father’s. Penny nodded. “Yes, tell Lord Arbry.” Lips firming, she turned back to the stairs. “And I’ll tell Lord Charles.”

“Indeed, my lady.” Figgs’s relief rang clearly. “Do you want Ellie to attend you now, ma’am?”

Penny glanced back at the wilting Ellie. “Just bring my washing water and lay out a plain gown. I’ll change after I’ve spoken with Lord Charles.”

Figgs and Ellie bobbed, and turned back to the kitchens.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Penny stopped at the first door and knocked lightly. “Charles?”

The door opened an instant later. “What?” He looked at her, looked past her. He’d just shrugged on a fresh shirt; the halves framed his chest.

She fixed her gaze on his face. “We have a problem.”

He waved her inside. She sat in a chair and told him all she knew while he buttoned the shirt, tucked it in, and quickly tied his cravat.

“And no one knows who this man is?” He shrugged on his coat.

“Apparently not.” She met his gaze. “It doesn’t sound good, does it? Why would Mary suddenly go missing just now?”

“Don’t extrapolate too far, too fast.” Charles glanced at the window, checking the light. “The first thing we need do is confer with Nicholas and set up a search. If someone’s seen her about with a man, maybe there’s some other, less dire explanation.”

They found Nicholas in the library with Norris; he looked stunned. “Have you heard?” he asked.

Penny nodded. She sat and let Charles take charge; he’d always been good at that sort of thing.

Nicholas, a civil servant to his toes, responded to the voice of command; within minutes, Charles had him writing to Lord Culver, informing him of the missing maid and that they were instituting a search immediately.

Charles turned to Norris. “Send to the stables, the home farm, and the workers’ cottages—round up as many men as you can, but we’ll need to leave yourself and a handful of others here to hold the fort.”

Norris nodded, glanced at Nicholas, saw him absorbed in composition, bowed to her, and hurried out.

Charles reached over Nicholas and tugged a fresh sheet of paper free. Pulling a chair to the desk, he sat and picked up Nicholas’s other pen and checked the nib. When Nicholas looked at him, he said, “I’m going to send to Essington Manor for more men. The Abbey’s too far, at least for tonight—it’ll be dark soon. We need to do all we can while there’s still light enough to see.”

Penny hesitated, then said, “What about the estuary?”

Charles looked at her, then nodded. “I’ll get the Gallants and the others out, too. They can search the shallows.”

She sat for a moment, listening to the scratch of nibs on paper, then rose. “I’ll go and change.”

She returned downstairs just as the Essingtons and the males of their household arrived. Both David and his brother Hubert had come, mounted and ready to search; they’d always been good neighbors and had understood the need—they’d come with all speed.

Millie and Julia had driven themselves over in the gig to keep her company. “So horrible to have to sit and wait alone,” Millie said.

Charles greeted the Essington ladies with heartfelt approval; Penny had changed out of her riding habit, but from the look on her face, she’d been planning to drive herself about in the gig, supposedly assisting the search, but not assisting him in the slightest.

He didn’t want her in any way involved. He had a very bad feeling over what they were going to find. In this part of the country, maids did not walk out and not come back. Not unless they couldn’t come back.

While Millie and Julia claimed Penny’s attention, he conferred with the Essington brothers; they quickly agreed on the area they’d each scour. He and the Wallingham staff would search the north hemisphere, David the southwest quadrant, and Hubert the southeast, including the estuary banks. “I’ve sent word to the Gallants—they’ll take the estuary.”

“Right.” David pulled on his gloves, exchanged a glance with his brother. “We’ll be off, then.”

While they farewelled their ladies, Charles murmured to Penny, “I’ll have a word to Nicholas before I go.”

She looked at him. “Isn’t he going with you?”

He met her gaze. “I’d rather he remained here.”

Penny read his eyes, then nodded and rose. “He’s in the library—I’ll come with you.”

Excusing herself to Millie and Julia, she accompanied him to the library. Nicholas was looking out of the window and pulling on his gloves; he patently intended riding out, too.

He turned as Charles shut the door. “Are we ready to go?”

Stepping past her, Charles halted in the middle of the room. “I am, but you need to remain here.”

“Oh?” All the antagonism between them resurfaced; Nicholas eyed him with incipient dislike. “Why?”

Holding Nicholas’s gaze, Charles evenly stated, “Because we must have someone with authority here to direct the search. If any information comes in, there has to be someone here who can analyze it and act on it—by that I mean give orders.
You
are the most appropriate in that role—this is your house or as near as makes no difference. On top of that, I grew up here, and so did the others. We know this ground like the backs of our hands. And time is limited. Night’s not far off—we need to be quick and certain of the ground we’re covering.”

He paused, then added, his gaze locked with Nicholas’s, “And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that two nights ago someone tried to attack Penny.”

Nicholas stared at Charles for a long moment, then his gaze switched to her. Another moment passed, then he glanced back at Charles, a faint, puzzled frown in his eyes. “Very well. I’ll remain.”

Charles nodded and turned for the door. “We’ll search until it’s full dark.”

Pausing beside her, he searched her eyes. Instead of taking her hand, he bent and swiftly kissed her. “We’ll be back within an hour of that.”

She nodded and watched him go. He left the door ajar; his boot steps died away down the hall, then she heard him call to the men as he joined them. An instant later, the thud of many hooves and the scrunch of many feet declared the searchers were away.

Looking at Nicholas, she watched as he, frowning more definitely, came toward her.

“Are the Essington ladies staying?”

“Yes. They’re in the drawing room. I’ll order dinner to be served in an hour.”

“Dinner?” He looked revolted.

She grimaced. “We still have to eat.”

He paused, then said, “I don’t understand Lostwithiel.” The words came out in a frustrated undertone. Nicholas briefly met her eyes, then looked away. “He doesn’t like me—he distrusts me, suspects me, and yet…”

He brought his gaze back to her face. “Someone tried to attack you the other night, and yes, I realize that for all you or he know, it could have been me. Despite that, he blithely leaves me here with you.”

Penny met his gaze. “Yes, exactly. And figuring out why might be the best thing you could do.”

With that tart comment, she led the way back to the drawing room.

The news, when it came, wasn’t good. Darkness had fallen when they heard the searchers returning. Penny knew what was coming when she heard the horses not riding in crisply, but walking very slowly.

She briefly closed her eyes, then, opening them, met Millie’s and Julia’s equally apprehensive gazes.

“Oh, dear,” Millie whispered, one hand rising to her throat.

Penny exhanged a glance with Julia, then rose. “I think you both should stay here—there’s no need for you to see…”

Turning, she headed for the door. Nicholas had risen when she did; he joined her. When they reached the door, he closed his hand on the knob, and looked at her. “You don’t have to see, either.”

She met his gaze levelly. “I’ve been
de facto
mistress here for the last umpteen years. I hired Mary. Of course I need to see.”

Neither Charles nor David were happy with her decision, but when she joined them in the cool store where they’d laid the limp body, neither attempted to gainsay her.

Someone had lit a lamp, but left it by the door; only faint light reached the table where Mary’s body lay. Even so, it wasn’t hard to see the purple marks circling her white neck, nor the protruding eyes and tongue. Penny stood just inside the door and looked, then Figgs pressed her arm and moved past, going to the table and straightening the rumpled skirts. She cleared her throat, addressed her question to the air, “Was she…do you know…?”

“No.” It was Charles who answered. “She was strangled, nothing else.”

Figgs nodded. “Thank you, my lord. Now, if you’ll leave us, Em and I will take care of her.”

“Thank you, Figgs,” Penny murmured. Figgs and Em, who helped Cook, were the oldest women in the household; to them rightly fell such tasks.

Charles moved to her side; she felt his hand close about her arm, sensed his strength close, and was grateful. He steered her out into the kitchen yard; David and Nicholas followed.

They stopped in the middle of the yard; all drew in deep breaths.

“Where did you find her?” Penny asked.

“In the woods this side of Connell’s farm.” David shook his head. “Not far at all—we’d met up and were on our way back, searching as we came.” He shivered. “The blackguard had stuffed her body under a fallen tree. If Charles hadn’t thought to poke there…”

David looked white as a sheet. Penny gripped his arm. “Come inside—you should all have something to warm you.”

They went in. She detoured via the kitchens to give orders that all the men in the search party should be served ale and cold meats, then swept into the house to supervise the same for their masters.

A dark and brooding atmosphere enveloped the house. Even though most hadn’t known Mary well, all had met her at one time or another, and this was the country—servants were people with families one knew. There was grief and confusion, shared by all; that sense of sharing, of adversity faced together, drew them closer, even Nicholas.

Hubert, having sent his men straight home, appeared alone to report no sighting. He was told the news; he insisted on going out to the cool store. He returned shortly, greatly cast down. The Essingtons took their leave. Charles, Nicholas, and Penny saw them off with thanks, then returned to the library.

Nicholas complied with Charles’s suggestion—more a direction—to write a note to Lord Culver informing him of their discovery.

Charles, meanwhile, openly wrote a brief report for London.

Ensconced in a chair, with no wish to spend time in her room by herself, Penny saw Nicholas glance at the sheet Charles was covering, but could read nothing beyond the deepening concern etched in his face.

Completed, both notes were dispatched by a rider.

Seeing no reason to abrade Nicholas’s sensibilities unnecessarily, Penny bade both him and Charles a good night in the front hall and climbed the stairs. She’d sent a message earlier excusing Ellie from waiting on her. Ellie and Mary had been friends; Ellie would be grieving.

As for herself…in her bedroom, she walked to the window, unlatched it, and pushed it wide. Looking out on the peaceful courtyard, she drew a deep breath and held it.

She thought of the man who’d come looking for her one night, thought of Mary, who that same man, it seemed, had now taken.

Why Mary? Why her?

Regardless, alongside her grief for Mary, she was immensely glad to be alive.