“If that was the case, why would she not just pack up and go rather than agree to stay on for another three months?”
“I have no idea, my lady.” Agnes headed for the door. “I need to get back to the nursery. Ned’s upset enough as it is, what with Polly disappearing without a word . . .”
“Please go ahead.”
Lucy paused to gather up a blue dress that Polly had thrown onto the floor and shook it out. There was a large mud stain on the hem of the skirt, which perhaps explained why she had discarded it rather than hanging it up. Her cloak was missing, as was her best bonnet and her stout boots—all things that she had probably been wearing as she left for her afternoon off.
But where had she gone?
Deep in thought, Lucy went down the stairs and found Robert in his study. He glanced up as she came in and immediately went still.
“What’s wrong?”
“Polly’s missing.”
“As in has left entirely, or has not returned from wherever she went on her afternoon off?”
“Most of her possessions are still here, but she isn’t.” Lucy bit her lip. “Did she seem agitated when you spoke to her yesterday?”
“Not at all. In truth, she was remarkably understanding about the whole thing.”
“Did you give her money?”
“No, of course not.” Robert looked affronted. “We always pay our staff in arrears.”
“Which means she was only paid last week for the first month of her service.” Lucy frowned.
“An amount that I doubt would take her very far.”
“I agree,” Lucy said as she took a quick turn around the room. “Then I wonder where she is?”
“Perhaps she stayed overnight with someone and has forgotten the time?” Robert suggested.
“I had the same thought, but Agnes says Polly had not made many acquaintances outside the hall.” Lucy looked over her shoulder at her husband. “Did Polly indicate to you that she planned to meet someone yesterday?”
“No, after our discussion, she asked me if it was still all right to take her half day. I told her to carry on. That was the last I saw of her.”
“That’s the last anyone saw of her.” Lucy sighed and resumed her pacing.
“Didn’t she go back upstairs to tell Agnes she was leaving?” Robert asked.
“Not according to Agnes. And she didn’t pop her head in and say good night to Ned when she returned, either.”
Robert frowned. “I told Polly to make sure Agnes knew she was going out, and she promised she would do so.” He paused. “I got the distinct impression that she and Agnes were not getting along. Perhaps Polly decided not to tell her cousin out of spite, because Agnes had assumed she was about to be dismissed and had offered to do her packing for her.”
“Agnes didn’t mention any of this, but I had wondered if all was well between them.” Lucy frowned. “Ned is very taken with Polly, and I don’t think Agnes particularly cares for it.”
Robert rose to his feet. “Let’s find Foley and begin a search of the house and grounds.”
He strode ahead of Lucy and entered the door that led to the kitchens and the butler’s pantry. By the time she caught up with him, he was already speaking to his butler and the cook. From what she could tell, everyone was surprised by his announcement and was shaking their head.
“Where’s James?” Robert asked, his sharp blue gaze scanning the kitchen.
Foley scratched his head. “I haven’t seen him this morning. Have you, Mrs. Bloomfield?”
The butler and the cook exchanged glances before she replied in the negative.
Michael, the second footman stepped forward. “Shall I go up and check his room? Maybe he’s ill.”
“Yes, please do that,” Robert replied. “And come back here. I’ll need you to go to the stables for me.”
“Yes, Sir Robert.”
Lucy leaned in and whispered, “I wonder if James is with Polly.”
“I damn well hope not,” Robert replied, equally quietly. “But the odds aren’t looking good, are they?”
Dermot Fletcher came in through the back door, whistling, and then stopped dead as he saw his employers in the middle of the kitchen.
“Is something the matter?” he asked cautiously.
“Well, at least you are here,” Robert said. “Polly is missing.”
“Missing?” Dermot paled. “I saw her yesterday walking down the drive toward the village.”
“At what time?”
“Just after midday. I heard the church clock chiming.”
Michael came clattering down the back stairs and came over to Robert. “He’s not in his room, sir, and his bed hasn’t been slept in.”
Lucy pressed her hand to her rounded stomach and briefly closed her eyes as the room swirled around her. Had James and Polly impulsively left together without a stitch of extra clothing and none of their possessions? Or had they simply gone off and would return when they felt like it? Either scenario annoyed her.
“Miss Polly wouldn’t—” Mr. Fletcher started to speak, and Robert cut him off.
“Mr. Fletcher, I need you to go into the village, alert the rector, and make sure that James and Polly are not availing themselves of anyone’s hospitality.”
“James’s parents have a farm about a mile away, sir,” Michael said. “They could’ve gone there.”
“Yes, of course.” Robert nodded. “Go down to the stables, Michael, and alert Mr. Coleman as to what is going on. Ask him to send the grooms out to search the parkland. When you have done that, please come back here with a gig so that I can go to Mr. Green’s farm and ascertain if James has turned up there.”
“Yes, Sir Robert.” Michael hurried out through the scullery.
While Robert issued his stream of orders and went off with Mr. Fletcher, Lucy sank down into a chair and helped herself to a cup of the strong, fortifying tea Cook kept ready in a teapot on the table. She knew that in her current condition, Robert would not allow her to rush out and search for Polly. Not that she felt like rushing anywhere when it was hard to breathe and she still felt nauseous.
“Are you all right, my lady?” Cook asked.
“Yes.” Lucy summoned a smile. “I’m just worried about Polly and James.”
“Do you think they’ve run off together? The boy did think the world of her.”
“It certainly seems possible.” Lucy sighed as Cook dropped a crushed lump of sugar in her tea. “Thank you.”
As the kitchen returned to normal, she sipped her tea and contemplated what to do next. It was morning, and it was quite possible that Polly and James would come back to Kurland Hall. What they expected to happen next was hard to contemplate, as Robert would no longer wish to employ either of them. Perhaps they would simply collect their things and leave.
Was it possible that James had somehow found Polly in distress and saved her from Bert, the ostler? Perhaps, at that point, Polly had realized that she cared for James and had confessed her love. James might have taken her to his parents’ farm to receive their blessing and they had stayed the night.
Even to Lucy, such a scenario sounded like it had been taken right out of a gothic novel, but then again, Polly did look like the perfect damsel in distress . . .
Lucy finished her tea and glanced over at the kitchen clock. There was little she could do at this time but speculate, and she refused to sit around worrying any longer. Agnes would be shorthanded in the nursery, and there was no one to take Ned out for his daily walk. She would change into her stout walking boots, find her cloak, and take her son to the park. Not only would she be getting some much-needed exercise, but she would also spend time with her son, who always required her full attention.
* * *
Robert put on his riding boots and thickest greatcoat and went out to the front of the house where Michael awaited him. He climbed up into the swaying gig.
“Do you know the way to the Greens’ farm?” Robert asked as he settled onto the seat.
“Yes, sir.” Michael gathered the reins and clicked to the single horse. “Just sit tight, and I’ll get you there in no time.”
“There’s no need to rush,” Robert stated. “I’d rather get there safely than not at all.”
“Right, sir.” Michael glanced over his shoulder as he carefully turned the gig around. It was fairly obvious to most of Robert’s household that, unlike most country squires, their master was not comfortable around horses. Robert had long ago given up any pretense that he would ever be like the wild, horse-mad youth he’d once been.
He gripped the bench seat with one gloved hand and determinedly stared out over the flat fields that composed the bulk of his estate. Drainage was a major issue; it was a constant battle during the months when the Kurland River overflowed its banks and saturated his fields. Robert and Dermot had recently visited the estate of Coke of Holkham Hall in Norfolk to observe his methods of farming and gained some valuable insight into ditch digging and the power of water channels and windmills. They’d already started preparing the land closest to the river for new drainage.
The light dissipated as the overhead trees closed over the road like gnarly, interlocked fingers to form a green-tinged tunnel that darkened into an impenetrable gloom as they passed through the middle of a copse of oak trees.
“Not far now, sir,” Michael said as they emerged once more into the light, leaving Robert blinking. “It’s just past the Prentice farm.”
“Thank you.” Robert hadn’t been out to visit the Green family for almost a year. They tended to come to see James at Kurland Hall and meet with Robert there, or to seek him out in Kurland St. Mary during market day.
There was no sign for the farm, but Michael seemed confident that the narrow track where he turned off was the correct one. Robert held onto his hat as the wind blew over the fields, making the growing wheat and corn rustle and sigh like a thousand whispers. The signs were that the harvest would be good, but one never knew what might happen with the weather. A week of rain could destroy the crops, and a week without it could have just as much of a devastating effect.
Such was the joy of farming . . . Robert was heartily glad that the main part of his income came from his family interests in the industrialized north, which continued to prosper even while his farming income waxed and waned.
He shaded his eyes as the farmhouse and outbuildings of the Greens’ farm came into view. The stone-and-brick cottage had been re-thatched a year ago, and looked sturdy and well kept. Even as the gig drew to a stop among a cacophony of honking geese and barking farm dogs, the front door opened, and Mr. Green came out.
“Sir Robert!” He strode over to the horse and held its head while Robert stepped down to the ground. “I was just about to drive over to Kurland Hall.”
“Why is that, Mr. Green?” Robert asked after a hearty handshake.
“Well, come in and see for yourself.” Mr. Green walked back to the front door and bellowed down the hallway. “Sir Robert’s here himself, Gwen! No need for us to worry.”
Robert followed him into the farmhouse and down the hall to the large, sunny kitchen at the rear of the building, where he discovered Mrs. Green tending to her son James, who lay on a settle covered with a blanket.
“Good morning, Sir Robert.” Mrs. Green said. “Did you come seeking my son?”
“Indeed I did, Mrs. Green. Good morning to you,” Robert removed his hat and sat down near James. “What happened?”
James sighed heavily and turned toward Robert. “Someone hit me, sir.”
“Were you fighting again?” Robert asked quietly.
“No, sir. I was just walking to the village from the hall. Someone came up behind me and hit me hard enough to knock me off my feet.”
“In broad daylight, Sir Robert!” Mrs. Green interjected. “What is the world coming to?”
“I have no idea, Mrs. Green,” Robert said politely, and then returned his attention to James. “Then, how did you end up here, over a mile away from where you fell?”
“I don’t know, sir.” James groaned. “The next thing I remember was Nell, my dog, sniffing and pawing at me, and then I heard my father’s voice.”
Robert looked up at Mr. Green, who had sat on the trestle by the kitchen table, hands on his spread knees. “Where exactly did you find him?”
“Near the bottom of the track up to the farm, sir.” Mr. Green patted one of the dogs that had gathered around him. “Not that I found him by myself. If it hadn’t been for the dog, he could’ve lain there all day, seeing as I wasn’t planning on going out.” He nodded at his son. “I was up at five, milking the cows, when Nell practically dragged me out there by grabbing hold of my sleeve with her teeth.”
“Clever dog,” Robert said. “So none of you know how James came to be lying on your land after being attacked somewhere close to Kurland Hall?”
“I know it sounds odd, sir, but that’s the truth of it,” Mr. Green assured him. “We’re just glad the boy is all right.”
“Thanks be to God,” Mrs. Green murmured.
Robert continued to study James, who was struggling to meet his gaze. “Would it be possible for me to speak to your son alone for a moment?”
Mr. and Mrs. Green exchanged puzzled glances. “If you wish, sir. We can go into the parlor.”
“Thank you.”
Robert waited until they left and then turned to James.
“I understand that you might not wish to reveal the truth of your actions in front of your parents, but I would ask for a full accounting now, please. Did you get into a fight with Bert Speers?”
“No, sir. I swear it.”
“Did you see Polly yesterday?”
James’s hand crushed the patchwork quilt in his fist. “I got off work just after she did, so I was . . . following her to Kurland St. Mary.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“No, sir.” James vigorously shook his head and then winced. “She was too far ahead. I tried to shout out to her, but I doubt she heard me.”
“Or she chose to ignore you. Go on.”
“Go on with what, sir?” James blinked at him. “I didn’t catch up with her. Just before I reached the church, someone jumped me from behind, and that’s the last thing I remember.”
Robert contemplated his footman, who did look rather worse for wear and had a bloody wound on the side of his head.
“Did you see where Polly went when she entered the village?”
“No, sir. She was blocked from my view by the church.”
“And you remember nothing since yesterday afternoon until your father found you early this morning?”
“That’s correct, sir.” James hesitated. “Did Polly say something different? Is that why you’re asking me all these questions?”
It was an interesting thing for James to ask—almost as if he feared to be blamed for something. Robert considered his young footman and decided to be blunt.
“Polly has disappeared. I was rather hoping I’d find her here with you.”
* * *
Lucy sat at her dressing table as Betty redid her hair. It was a windy day, and Lucy suspected that her loose curls would not fare well in the breeze when she ventured out on her walk. She’d instructed Betty to braid her hair tightly to her head so that she could fit it under her bonnet.
“That’s much better.” Lucy admired her reflection. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my lady.” Betty slid another pin into place. “Have you any news about Polly?”
“Not yet.” Lucy sighed. “I can’t believe she has just run off.”
“Mr. Foley did say that James was missing, too.” Betty paused hopefully. “Mayhap they are together. That will really put Agnes’s nose out of joint. She’s always been sweet on James.”
“I didn’t know that.” Lucy turned in her seat so that she faced Betty. She wasn’t normally one to gossip with the staff, but Betty had been with her since she’d lived in the rectory and was a trusted confida
nte. “Did you think Polly and Agnes got along well?”
“Not at all, my lady. Agnes is right jealous because Master Ned prefers Polly, and so does James.” Betty set about tidying the pins. “Agnes wasn’t pleased by that, and she let her cousin know it.” She tutted. “The arguments those two had after Ned had gone to bed.”
“They argued a lot?”
Betty nodded vigorously. “Yesterday morning, when I went up to the nursery to look for your missing book, my lady, I heard them through the wall. Agnes was insisting Polly was going to be dismissed, and that it was her just comeuppance. Polly would have none of it.”
It occurred to Lucy that this must have been just before Polly went down to speak with Robert, never to be seen again.
“Agnes said that it would be a blessing if Polly left, and Polly accused her of being jealous.” Betty straightened the bed coverings. “Polly didn’t half slam the door on her way out down the stairs.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Lucy said. “Perhaps that is why Polly decided not to come back.”
“I suppose it’s possible, my lady, but why would she leave without her possessions?” Betty looked doubtful. “Do you remember when Mary went missing from the rectory? She took everything with her.”
Despite the seriousness of that occasion, Lucy almost smiled. She would never forget that particular incident, which had drawn her into an uneasy alliance with a bedridden Robert and eventually ended up in their marriage.
Betty came over and patted her shoulder. “Now don’t fret too much, my lady, especially in your condition. Sir Robert wouldn’t like that at all.”
“You’re right,” Lucy agreed. “But I do feel somewhat responsible. Polly is in my employ, and she seemed to want to stay on at least for the next quarter.”
“Perhaps she’s as flighty as she looks, and got a better offer, and decided to play us all for fools.” Betty went toward the door. “That girl always struck me as a deep one, my lady.”
Lucy considered Betty’s opinion as she readied herself to go up to the nursery. It was all so confusing. Polly hadn’t told her cousin that she was leaving for her half day; Agnes hadn’t mentioned that she and Polly had been arguing just before Polly left. But who was telling the truth?
Death Comes to the Nursery Page 4
