Surely she had heard Jonathan’s voice. No other man’s words stirred her heart so. It had to be him. Why didn’t he come to her? All she owned in the world she would gladly give away for one kind word from Jonathan.
“Payton, what are you doing out of bed?” Anne gripped her around the shoulders and steered her toward the guest quarters.
“Jonathan’s here?”
“No, dear. Why do you ask?”
No one would convince her otherwise. “But I heard him.”
Anne’s grasp pulled her away from the stairs. “That must be from the laudanum Dr. Blakely gave you. Payton, dear, you must get your rest if you are to go home. Come back to your room.”
Anne prepared another drink and offered it to her. Payton took only enough to dampen her dry, cracked lips.
* * *
Jonathan paced the great hall, waiting for Anne to return. She had taken the news of Alithea so calmly. Did she believe him? Fancy him crazy? Or had she known all along that Alithea only cared about his wealth?
Anne entered, freshly dressed for dinner in a gown better suited to a ball than a family meal. “I do hope you will stay and eat before you start your search again.” Her hand reached out and stroked his shoulder.
He stepped away, uncomfortable at her familiarity. Changing the subject, he said, “Is your mother all right? I had no idea she had taken to her bed. I am sorry to hear it.”
“She’s fine. A bit restless, perhaps, but that is to be expected now that she cannot get around easily. If only she... Well, that matters not.”
He indicated the stairwell. “Would she be up to seeing a visitor?”
“Oh, my, no. She barely speaks anymore and I would not want to embarrass her. Perhaps another time, Jonathan. I don’t know how I will ever tell her about Alithea or if I even should.” She leaned into him and buried her face in his chest. “It might have been me, Jonathan. You know I loved you from the beginning.”
“Anne, please.”
“Oh, Jonathan.”
“As much as I would like to stay and have dinner with you, I must go. Payton is out there, and I have to find her. She’s all alone, Anne. And I cannot believe she was part of Edgar Whittard’s plan in spite of what you’ve told me.”
Anne pushed him from her. Her face contorted. “You are a fool! You were a fool with Alithea and you’re a fool with Payton. I was in love with you, Jonathan. Not Alithea. Not Payton! I have always been here for you. And what do I get? I am pushed aside time and again.” She drew a handkerchief to her eyes. “What must I do to make you see me? Here. Waiting.”
He recalled numerous occasions when she had put herself between him and Alithea, between him and Payton. Was she in earnest that she loved him? He looked for his coat; he must leave. He would come back and deal with Anne later.
“I never meant to hurt you, Anne. If I have, forgive me. But I will find Payton before harm comes to her.” His feet took him past the decaying tapestry that adorned the hallway. Past the crumbling foundation in the entrance. Past the door, which hung askance. How far would Anne go to see Newbury restored?
Chapter 14
Ten days passed with no word from Payton. Jonathan sat alone in his library, where he now spent the bulk of his time. His hand reached up and brushed at the uncharacteristic facial hair. His eyes ached when he tried to read; his lips burned from the dryness. He grabbed the water on his desk and downed it in one gulp, but still dry sand filled his mouth. The musty books, no doubt. He gazed about at the shelves and made a mental note to arrange for Clarisse to dust them. Cleanse the entire hall from all the deception.
He started when he heard a noise. “Supper, sir?”
“Go away, Emily.”
“But, sir.”
“I’m not hungry!” The quiet enveloped him again. Emily had not been able to entice him with his favorite foods, and he knew he’d grown gaunt. But why should he care? There was no one for whom it would make a difference. Anne had called, but he’d sent her away. He did not desire guests. Not even work lured him from the house.
“Mr. Lambrick, Mr. Walmsley and Mr. Cole have been here two times this week. They have asked for your help. Your tenants, sir.”
“Let them be hanged for all I care. Leave. I’m tired.”
His parents gone. Alithea gone, and now Payton. Where was she? If only he thought she was happy. And safe. But he did not believe for one minute Payton had been part of a plan to cheat him. Yet Anne had been so adamant and they had been friends for years, even before he’d married Alithea.
* * *
Payton stumbled along the hallway, mumbling and shaking uncontrollably. Her head clouded whenever she tried to think. Anne had told her Jonathan had been killed by Whittard. If Jonathan had been killed, it was all her fault. She could never return to Kent. Now there was no reason to go back.
She retraced her steps and drew, once again, from the glass Anne left for her on the stand; the drink made her forget, helped her to cope with his death. God, why has this happened? Why did You allow it? Her heart wrenched inside her as she drank deeply of the cool water.
Not soon enough, she fell across the bed and gave in as hypnotizing sleep consumed her. “Jonathan, why did you leave me?”
When Payton awoke, she could barely force her eyes to open. Her mouth was thick and dry. Her breathing labored and demanding. She struggled to get out of the bed. Those voices again. Loud, arguing. Jonathan? Not Jonathan. Another woman. Who?
“You cannot simply leave her here like this. How will that help us?”
“Mother, you are talking like a fool. Be patient a little longer and soon we will have it all. He was mine. If not for Alithea, Newbury would once again be respectable. But she didn’t care about anything other than Kent Park and Jonathan. How very singular...and selfish. Mother, you and I will find a way.”
“Anne, are you there?” What were they saying?
The door scraped open and Anne’s face appeared. “It’s time, Payton.”
“Time?”
“Yes, dear. It’s time to take you to Jonathan.”
She must be dreaming. Jonathan died.
“Get dressed, Payton. I’ll help you. I’ve had your breeches cleaned. And I recovered Winter for you. Tonight, once you’ve eaten, I’ll have her saddled. And you can return to Jonathan.”
“Jonathan’s dead.”
Anne’s eyes filled. “Dear girl, have you been dreaming? Wherever did you get an idea like that?”
* * *
Emily shook his arm. Jonathan stared into familiar eyes, warm and inquisitive. He felt as if he had been dead for years.
“Mr. Lambrick. Jonathan. Please. If Miss Payton is out there, you cannot give up. She wouldn’t want you to. Please, dearie. Look at you. Shameful, it is.”
He wiped the tears away. “Emily?” The same kind eyes that had nursed him back to health so many times. Had taught him about God and family. How to live as a trusted and honorable master to those in his charge. He was disappointing her as well as his people. Her arms wrapped about him and he cried. He had not shed a tear since he was a child, but tonight, he cried. “I miss her, Emily. I miss her so much. I can’t believe she could have been in on a plot to steal from me. Everything I have was hers for the asking.”
“Jonathan, she would not leave you on purpose.”
“Like Alithea?”
“No, foolish man. Someone has done Payton harm and you need to find out who. I don’t believe for one minute it was her uncle. He doesn’t have the sense of a mole. It took a keen mind to abduct Miss Payton and make up a story. Now, who could have done such a thing?”
He hoisted himself to a sitting position and wiped his face. Staring at the accusation in Emily’s eyes, his mind whirled with a possibility. Wallace Fitzhugh, that’s who.
* *
*
Jonathan could ride this highway in his sleep. He had thought after Alithea died that he might have feelings for Anne and see her as a possible mate. But that was all in his past. The only woman he cared about for longer than he could remember was Payton. Where are you? God, give me a plan. Help me to find her, please. Something in all of this is terribly wrong.
The road seemed to lead straight to Newbury, as if his horse knew no other way.
He shouted for Ellery at the stable door and was surprised to see him saddling Cootis, Anne’s favorite mount. “Would you look after Storm?”
“Yessir. I’ll brush him and cool him down, sir.”
His legs crossed the grass in haste. Anne must have a suggestion for him. Perhaps she would remember one small detail Fitzhugh might have let slip. Rounding the side of the house, he rammed into her. “Jonathan!”
He pulled her shoulders together with his hard grip. “What are you doing out here?”
She trembled at his words. “I... Ellery needed me in the stables. If you will excuse me. Mother is in the study having tea. Perhaps you could join her and I will meet you in a few minutes.”
“Your mother?” Anne was acting so peculiar, and hadn’t her mother taken to her bed? Curiosity and the possibility of pressing her mother for information propelled him toward the house. He stopped, pulled a hand through his hair, and addressed Anne with an unexpected wariness. “Please hurry.”
When the door opened, Caroline Newbury seemed to be doing very well, indeed. Not at all as Anne had described her. “The reports of your health have been happily erroneous, madam. How do you do?”
Caroline Newbury’s eyes darted from Jonathan to the door and back to Jonathan again. Almost out of breath she cried, “Jonathan, how good to see you.”
“Are you all right?” She looked anything but an invalid, but she was obviously distressed at his arrival. He had heard of people taking a turn for the better, but Anne had made it sound as if her mother was merely awaiting the grim reaper.
She gestured to a chair with a shaking hand. “Please take a seat. Have some tea. Perhaps some bread and preserves. I’ll call for Lynette.” She turned to the bell and continued the incessant chattering until his head hurt. “Anne will be right back.”
He settled into the chair, his eyes not straying from her loss of composure. “Yes. I spoke with her. I am pleased to see you doing so well. I had heard you were taken to your bed.”
“The reports, alas, were true, but Dr. Blakely nursed me well and, as you can see, I am much improved. It has been a very long time, Jonathan. After all, you are a son to me, my dear.”
He leaned over and pecked her cheek, then accepted the cup of tea. “You know, I assume, that my wife, Payton, has been missing these past days? Have either of you heard from her?”
“No, Jonathan. Anne informed me of the sad circumstances. I am sorry for your loss, and that it seems she has taken the way of my dearest Alithea.”
“What?” She continued to gaze beyond him, but why? “Madam, is something wrong? Are you and Anne in some sort of danger?” Fitzhugh came to his mind once again.
“Dear me, whatever makes you think that?” Her hands fluttered in her lap and the cup of tea spilled across the sleeve of her gown. “Oh, my. See how clumsy I am? Jonathan, it is difficult for two women to live alone. Anne has had to take over the duties of a man around here. One cannot trust the servants, my dear. I’m simply beside myself whenever she has to leave the house for these unpleasant duties. No doubt she’ll be back before I can clean up this mess.”
Jonathan rose and offered his handkerchief. “I cannot wait any longer. I had hoped she would remember anything Fitzhugh may have said about Payton that could help me to find her.”
“You think Fitzhugh has done her harm?” She nodded. “He has been behaving rather peculiarly. You must ask Anne when she returns.”
He marched toward the door. “I’ll ask her now. No need to waste more time speculating.” He shrugged against a sudden chill. “I don’t know what to think, but I will learn. One way or the other. Of that you can be sure, and whoever is responsible will pay.”
Caroline Newbury looked as if she might faint.
* * *
Though thrilled to be reunited with Winter, Payton could barely sit the saddle before Anne hit the animal with a crop. Payton’s feet knocked about in the stirrups, which had been set too long; she hung on tight.
Anne smiled and waved as she turned Cootis back toward the stable. “Give Jonathan my best, dear sister.”
Winter lurched forward. Payton turned to wave a hand but dared not let go of the grasp she had on the animal. More lightheaded than usual, she struggled to stay upright. Why did her head swirl so? She brushed at low-hanging branches that barely missed her face. Was this the way to Kent? Ellery had assured her it was, despite Anne’s insisting she should ride in the other direction.
Her breathing came in sharp, hollow gasps and the motion of the horse caused a churning in her stomach. If only she could find her way back. Would Jonathan even care? He couldn’t have been the one to send her away. She had been gone so long; at least, she thought she had.
* * *
Anne’s arms encircled Jonathan’s neck, but he brushed them off. “You could stay and visit with mother and me for a few days. You haven’t paid us a lengthy visit in some time.”
“I told you I’m going to Payton.” Was Anne still living in the past? Their past? But they’d only been children when he’d declared his love to her. Only children.
“Payton! Payton! Jonathan when will you stop overlooking the love right in front of you?”
She still thought... No. “We’ve been over this. I am married, Anne. And I love my wife. I don’t believe for a minute she left Kent of her own accord. I will find out who took her, and God will have to help the person. I won’t.”
She stepped back, her hands in a defensive posture, and allowed him to swing his leg over Storm’s back, but her pout had never been more evident. “I will miss you, Jonathan. If only...”
“I didn’t anticipate hurting you in all of this. Never. But Payton is the only one I love. The only one I ever will love.”
No longer smiling, her expression hardened. “Of course, Jonathan.”
* * *
Payton wiped webs from her face and held tight to Winter. In a few hours...home. Home! She could picture Jonathan waiting for her with open arms, arms she could curl into and be lost for days. She had already been lost. How many days? She shook her head to clear the muddle that had undermined her thoughts for the longest time. Did Anne tell her Jonathan had been happy she left him? Is that what she’d said? Oh, why couldn’t she remember anything with any clarity? It all seemed like one very long nightmare. Nothing but imagined conversations, dreams and fantasies.
An owl swooped down close to Winter, and the horse balked. Payton clutched her mane, but the lack of coordination and inability to keep her feet secure sent her spiraling over the top of Winter’s neck. She landed face-first on a rotten log, barely off the side of the road. Pain shot through her chest and stifled any attempts at sucking air back. A cursory clutch of her ribs offered more searing pain. She fought to speak, cry for help, but words proved impossible. Winter walked back, dipped her neck and snuffed at Payton, but as soon as the owl hooted, she jerked her head up and sprinted away. Soon, there was nothing for Payton but the black of night.
* * *
Jonathan’s unexpected visit to Wallace Fitzhugh in London produced little more than an uncomfortable situation. He could have sworn Fitzhugh wasn’t even aware Payton was missing. Having exhausted all avenues to find Payton, he started for home, the one place that offered a modicum of peace. God seemed so far away from him. Didn’t He want Jonathan to know happiness?
He strained to see in the dark, grateful the horse instinctive
ly knew where they were headed. Jonathan lessened the pull on the reins to afford Storm his first break all day. After all, Jonathan had nothing to hurry back to. An empty house full of servants and a succession of lonely days and even lonelier nights. Perhaps he should have stayed in London or stayed with Anne and her mother. He would have at least been around friends and family, but no. Nothing and no one mattered to him but his darling Payton. And Anne’s behavior had grown more and more peculiar.
Storm pranced and Jonathan tugged on the reins to control him with the bit; the animal stopped and pawed at the ground. His head swayed from side to side as he kicked up dust.
“What’s the matter, boy? It’s all right. Let us be on our way.” Jonathan patted the horse’s neck but to no avail. Storm reared, all but sending Jonathan off his back.
Jonathan slid from the saddle and held the reins tight in his hand. “You see something? There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He listened for any noise that might have frightened his horse. He rubbed around the wiry hairs on Storm’s muzzle and spoke soothing words, doing his best to calm the beast. “There’s a good...” He stood still and listened. “Wait. You hear that?”
Storm stomped the ground again, his eyes rolling, the whites showing boldly in the darkness.
Jonathan whirled to the sound of choking. He pulled the pistol from his greatcoat and stood his ground, knees bent, legs ready to spring at a moment’s notice. “Show yourself.”
Crying. More gasping and strangling noises.
He looped the reins onto a branch and stepped off the beaten path. In two strides, his boot tripped over a log and he bent to move it aside. A hand touched his leg. He jumped back.
“Help me...please.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared into the darkness. He tried to focus. A boy? “Here now.” He grabbed the hand and turned him over. Eyes, swollen and questioning, stared at him. Air catching in his throat escaped in a loud gasp. “Payton?”
Only one word—“Jonathan?”—sighed through her lips before he dropped onto his knees, cradling her in his arms. He brushed the hair from her face and clutched her so protectively he thought he might be causing her more harm than good.
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