by C. J. Chase
“I might have suggested a woman in your position would better understand the depths of his gratitude if he accompanied his thanks with an appropriate remuneration.”
Another debt she owed him. First her cousin, and now this. “And Alec?”
“Considering Mr. Vance committed high treason, I don’t think he should expect much beyond his pardon and new position.”
“No, of course not.” But certainly nothing prevented her from sharing her windfall—if her proud, independent cousin would accept a portion. She’d send him some once he settled into his new situation. He’d departed the night before for Scotland and thinking of him elicited fresh loneliness. Perhaps Alec could even resign and return... She glanced sharply at Chambelston, only now becoming aware of the full import of his words. “What did you mean, before you leave?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened and his lashes dipped over the empty darkness of his eyes. “I just received a letter from Elizabeth on the morning post. Caroline is missing.”
“Missing! But...how? When?”
“Yesterday. She seems to have simply vanished. No one can find any sign of her. If she wandered outside...”
She’d have surely succumbed to the cold by now.
Chambelston’s hands fisted, the skin across his knuckles turning tight and white. “This is not the first time the maid lost—”
“My lord, you cannot blame anyone until we know all the facts.”
“I should have expected as much from you, after your clash with the magistrate last week.” A droll smile tweaked his lips, though it never found his eyes. “In truth, I blame myself most of all. If I hadn’t taken Caroline from Somerset, from all that is familiar to her, to a place where she was barely tolerated...”
But it was worse. He’d stayed in London extra days to await Leah’s recovery from the gunshot wound and subsequent fever. In order to propose. If he’d returned to Northamptonshire immediately after Killiane’s failed attack... The cold fingers of guilt clamped around her midsection. If Leah had been honest with him from the beginning, if she’d told him about her sister rather than letting pride hold her tongue, he would have returned immediately to Lady Caroline rather than linger here, near her. Trust. Realization dawned in Leah’s mind. When her erstwhile suitor—supposedly a man of God—had failed her, she’d transferred that disbelief and cynicism to her relationship with God Himself. And from there, to everyone else.
Chambelston rose from the chair. “You may remain here as long as you like. I spoke to Lady Langstern. As her husband is deceased and her children are grown, she is willing to stay with you until you feel well enough to travel. Indeed I believe she enjoys the assignment.”
Finding a purpose for one’s life oft imparted that result. But Leah had an obligation to fulfill. “I’ll go with you to Northamptonshire.”
“But you’re still recovering, and the journey will be arduous.”
“No more difficult than worrying from so far away.”
For several seconds more she thought he would remain adamant. Then he nodded. “Very well. But I’ve already given orders for the carriage to leave in thirty minutes.”
“I have little enough to pack. I’ll be ready.”
* * *
Julian rested his head against the carriage’s plush upholstery. Awkward silence sat beside him, like an extra occupant in the vehicle. How he already missed Harrison’s presence, which would have provided him with the gentle reassurances of faith and eased some of the tension of the enforced intimacy with the only woman to whom he’d gifted his heart.
Only to discover she didn’t return the sentiment.
He forced the disappointment from his mind—only to have nothing left to occupy his thoughts but terrifying fear for Caro. Where could she have gone? Not far. She hadn’t the vigor for a long journey by foot. Dread overflowed from his soul, the sure and certain knowledge only something tragic explained her disappearance. Trust and reliance seemed so impossible. Surely no one could find a greater purpose in his sister’s suffering...or worse. Julian sent up silent, awkward pleas.
“What will we do when we get to Rowan Abbey?”
He started and glanced across the carriage to the sympathetic hazel gaze. “As we will arrive very late, probably not much tonight. I pray Elizabeth has already located her. If not, we shall have to make one more examination of the house tonight, and then expand our search to the grounds and nearby villages on the morrow.”
“Do you suppose she could be hiding? Perhaps she got angry and hid in a fit of pique.”
“No, Caro’s mind doesn’t work that way. She doesn’t have the ability to design that kind of scheme.”
“Fear, then. Could someone have frightened her into hiding?”
“Perhaps, but I can’t see her remaining quiet and concealed for so long.”
“Tell me more about Lady Caroline. If we are to find her, it would be helpful to have a better understanding of her likes and habits.”
Julian allowed his mind to draw a picture of Caro’s engaging smile. “She likes most food but especially ham. She enjoys dancing—in a pattern all her own, of course—but she tires easily. And she loves music.” Like Leah.
“Has she disappeared on other occasions?”
“Not for any length of time. She escaped from her nurse on her first day at Rowan Abbey, but I found her in a chamber near to mine—Fleming’s, as it turned out—looking for me.”
“Does she prefer solitude or the company of others?”
“Caro likes being with people. She treats everyone, even new acquaintances, as friends.”
“A person who tires easily would almost certainly not wander far. But someone who trusts too readily could easily be lured away.”
“For ransom? Elizabeth’s message mentioned no such request.”
“What about revenge? You did foil the plot to assassinate the Regent.”
“The credit for that belongs mostly to you and your cousin. I would expect you to be in more danger on that score. Fortunately we’ve managed to prevent the papers from discovering your identities.”
“Then we must consider the possibility someone took her for more nefarious purposes.”
Bile boiled in Julian’s stomach and burned in his throat as he fought to contain the revolting images. Would any man...? Oh, yes. “If Fleming weren’t already dead, he would be my foremost suspect.”
Leah’s face blanched as she ripped her gaze away to stare out the window. The dark ribbons of her new bonnet—a farewell gift from Lady Langstern—contrasted with the pale skin of her cheek. London had faded behind them, leaving only snow-covered fields on the horizon. “You didn’t hear from the magistrate or Lady Sotherton about an arrest for Fleming’s murder?”
“No. Killiane yet maintains his innocence on that score. So as far as I know, Fleming’s death remains a mystery.”
“I don’t know that Fleming deserved to die, but he most definitely deserved any distrust thrown his way. Unfortunately there are others of his ilk.”
Julian leaned across the space between them and covered Leah’s hand with his. “What did he do?” He hated forcing her to confront the sordid details of her past, but he needed to know if he was to find Caro.
Silence wrapped around them, interrupted only by the steady clomp of the horses and swish of the wheels. “He trapped me in his bedchamber. I knew if I cried out, my reputation would be destroyed.”
Was this the reason she had rejected him? Fresh anger, fed by new worries for Caro, mingled with heartbreak—for her, for him, for Caro. “Caro would cry out. She wouldn’t understand the need for such restraint.” Unlike a poor governess for whom even a suggestion of scandal would be grounds for dismissal.
“I was desperate. I grabbed the fireplace poker, and...”
“Ah, the injury to Fleming’s head three years ago. Elizabeth mentioned it to the magistrate. Good for you!” Poor Caro would never be so quick-witted. “That’s how you lost your comb.”
“I supp
ose it fell out of my hair in the melee. I looked later but never found it.”
“During Caro’s explorations, she discovered a locket and ribbon and other baubles among Fleming’s affects. The magistrate presumed them to be gifts, but perhaps Fleming collected such objects from his victims.”
“I lived in constant fear afterward. Fortunately Fleming never disclosed what happened.”
“No man wants to admit to being bested by a woman.”
“I suppose not. He preferred tormenting me as his form of revenge. I knew it was only a matter of time until he succeeded in either assaulting me or seeing me dismissed. Probably both.” A wry smile curved one corner of her mouth. “How ironic that with his death, he succeeded in the latter.”
“And left you with no means to support yourself.” Or the mysterious “someone else” whose needs had prompted her foray into treason. “Both for you and your...?”
“Sister. I support my sister.”
“Your sister?” Julian recoiled against the back of the carriage seat. “I thought she was dead.”
“Her mind is.”
Like Caro? “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do. Phoebe is...seriously unwell. She lives in an asylum not far from Rowan Abbey. A good place—as these things go. One where the female inmates...”
“Aren’t subject to the base lusts of men like Fleming.” An asylum. How many times had well-meaning friends and spiteful rivals suggested such a place for Caro rather than burden the family with her existence? At least the DeChambelles had the means to provide for Caro’s care at home. How different for Leah. No wonder she kept her sister’s very existence a secret. The last clue to the Leah Vance mystery emerged. Like her care for Teresa, like her concern for Caro, love for her sister had impelled Leah’s actions—fear that unscrupulous attendants would subject her sister to the exploitation she had so nearly suffered herself. She strove so mightily to protect others. If only she could trust him to do likewise for her.
“Alas, such situations cost dearly. By last year Phoebe’s expenses had exhausted my father’s legacy, and my governess’s salary didn’t cover the fees.”
“Hence your need to raise extra funds.”
“I suppose I ought to have considered why anyone would compensate me for collecting information from Lord Sotherton. Such actions suggest evil intentions.”
“But you were too desperate to heed the warnings.”
“Or too cynical. How astonishing to learn Killiane funded my spying.”
“I suppose we should take comfort some good came of his ill intentions. You had the money for Phoebe’s care until the Regent gifted you with the reward.” Another example of God’s ability to bring good from evil? “Is your sister’s...affliction one of long standing?”
“Phoebe was vivacious and beautiful. Everyone loved her.” Was Leah aware of the raw pain that laced her voice even now? “Then when she was fifteen, she fell down the church steps onto the stone walkway and suffered a life-threatening blow to her head.”
“Ah, the event ten years ago. You spoke of a sister once before, but I assumed her deceased.”
“In many ways, she did die that day. She lost much of her memory and now finds the simplest activities—speaking, dressing, feeding herself—difficult. Even her disposition changed to one of persistent despondency.”
“That must have been difficult for your family, coming so soon after your brother’s death.”
“Yes, my mother already suffered from melancholy. Phoebe’s injury—and subsequent impairment—compounded her grief. My mother and I worked to restore Phoebe’s mind. Some days we seemed to see progress, only to have our hopes dashed. After my father’s death Mother and I had to relinquish the vicarage. Phoebe found the change too distressing and became a danger to herself and others. At that point, we put her in the asylum. Shortly thereafter my mother died of a broken heart.”
“And the asylum? Has she made progress toward recovery since her arrival?”
“No. Remember the day you interrupted Fleming’s harassment that afternoon?”
“Of course. You claimed to have visited an invalid friend.” Along with a man—her cousin, no doubt. “Your sister, I presume.”
“Yes, I visit every Sunday. Sometimes I feel as if she remembers me, but most times I am a stranger to her. That week, the staff had discovered her making another attempt to take her life.” Leah’s troubled hazel gaze dropped to the clenched fists in her lap. “Whenever that happens, they medicate her with laudanum.”
“What will you do henceforth, now that you have funds enough for her care?”
“I thought to get a cottage and a nurse. Perhaps in a loving and stable environment, she will improve.”
“I hope someday you’ll let me meet her.” Assuming he couldn’t persuade Leah to change her mind about his proposal. For the first time since her refusal yesterday, he allowed himself to hope. Had he at last discovered her reasons? Maybe, after they had found Caro, he could visit the Vance sisters in their cottage and renew his...friendship with Leah. “We aren’t so different, you and I.”
“A governess and an earl?”
“No, two ordinary people trying to care for the weakest among us.”
* * *
Moonlight reflected on the hulking outline of Rowan Abbey as the carriage drew around the drive. Lights gleamed in her windows and created shadows of the shrubs around the building. Leah gathered her coat and her courage more closely around her. Would Lady Sotherton accept her return or toss her into the snow? Worse, would she find the cold remains of Lady Caroline already there?
Once again Leah searched the recesses of her mind for a possibly overlooked cranny or crevice where a scared, or perhaps unconscious, child-woman might be trapped. The attic? The cellar? A wardrobe in an empty bedchamber?
The coachman gave a shout and the horses slowed, stopped. The carriage rocked as he hurtled from his perch and yanked open the door.
“Thank you, John. My compliments on the exceptionally brief journey.” Chambelston descended the steps.
“I’m most anxious for Lady Caroline, my lord.”
Chambelston extended a hand to Leah to assist her. “See to the horses. And then if you like, ask the grooms if they witnessed anything that might lead us to her.”
“I shall, my lord. Good night, Miss Vance.”
Leah gave him a nod as she accepted Chambelston’s escort to the door. The formal front door accessed by honored Sotherton guests—not their recently dismissed governesses.
Hawkesworth’s brows barely budged as he glanced to Leah. “My lord, I’m glad you arrived so precipitously. I only wish it were under more felicitous circumstances.” Nausea churned in Leah’s belly. So Caroline had not yet returned.
“I also. No word yet?”
“Nothing, sir.” The butler accepted their hats and coats. “Lady Sotherton awaits you in the blue salon.”
“Very good. Please have the housekeeper prepare a guest chamber for Miss Vance.”
The butler’s pale eyes blinked. “A guest chamber, my lord?”
“Miss Vance is no longer the governess at Rowan Abbey. You can hardly deposit her in the schoolroom.”
Was that a smile that touched Hawkesworth’s mouth? “Indeed, sir.” He vanished with their garments while Leah and Chambelston strode to the blue salon.
“Julian!” Lady Sotherton vaulted from a seat and flew to meet them in the doorway. Unhealthy pallor whitewashed her countenance, but for the red rims circling her eyes. Her gaze flickered to Leah, registering neither surprise nor opposition. “Julian, I’m so sorry. We’ve searched and searched, and I don’t know what else to do.”
Chambelston clasped her hand and guided her back to the settee. “Tell me what you have done thus far. You’ve searched the entire house, I presume?”
“Everywhere! Every room on every level.”
Leah claimed a chair some distance from the brother and sister, near to Teresa. Her former pupil leaned close to wrap
an arm around Leah’s shoulders and offer a whispered comment. “I’m glad you didn’t let my mother’s bitterness keep you away.”
For any other reason, perhaps. “Not for this.”
Lady Sotherton pursed her lips. “Did Benedict return with you?”
“He had to complete some business concerning Killiane. He hoped to follow us tomorrow or the next day.” Chambelston paused before the fireplace, hands clasped at his back. “Who last saw Caro?”
“Well, that adds to our dilemma. Anna, the nurse you brought, claims Lady Caroline was last with our maid Molly.”
“And Molly vows she was with Anna,” Chambelston finished for her, his mouth a thin white line. “Whom do you believe?”
Lady Sotherton’s frown deepened. “I don’t know this woman you brought...”
“But surely she’s been here long enough for some on your staff to form opinions.”
“Mrs. Anderson and Hawkesworth both defended Molly.”
“Miss Vance?” Chambelston swung around and focused those intense blue eyes on Leah. “You probably know the particulars better than the rest of us here.”
“I’ve never known Molly to be anything but competent and truthful.” Leah’s mind slipped back to those frightening hours when she’d thought she might hang for Fleming’s murder. “Furthermore, she is a woman of genuine faith, and she has a sincere liking for Lady Caroline. I cannot imagine her lying to protect herself when such falsehoods put Lady Caroline in danger.”
“You don’t believe Anna likes Caro?” Chambelston pulled the cord to summon the butler.
“As Lady Sotherton mentioned, we scarcely know the nursemaid.” Leah avoided glancing at her recent employer. “I didn’t sense animosity so much as discomfort—as if she feared Lady Caroline’s condition might be contagious. Many people are like that around those who are...different.” Like her former suitor’s reaction to Phoebe.
The butler paused in the doorway. “My lord?”
“Send for Lady Caroline’s nursemaid.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I had thought to hire someone to replace Anna.” Chambelston’s bleak glance flickered to his sister. “But I didn’t want to steal away Molly without first consulting you, Elizabeth. I see I was too late.”
