by Ava Rose
Antoine tried to pick up the cat and it hissed, extending a clawed paw in his direction and making him retreat.
Pen glared at both cat and butler. They were getting in the way of his mealtime.
“Leave it.”
Antoine bowed and walked out of the room. Pen watched the cat warily as he unbuttoned his vest and rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. It was eyeing the assortment of meats on the tray. Picking up a paper-thin slice of ham, he dangled it in front of the feline and when it would stretch to collect it, he would pull away once or twice before relinquishing the meat to the cat. They repeated this game several times before he began tending to his own stomach.
Roast beef, ham, pickles, and cheese on bread was just what he needed, and bite after bite, he finished everything on the tray, with Treacle's help, of course. He poured himself some tea and creamed it, pausing to give the cat some milk in a saucer, and he had just taken a large sip when a cold accusing voice stopped him short.
CHAPTER NINE
"Where were you all day?" Mary stood in the doorway, obviously seething. She was in her nightgown, her feet were bare and her dark hair down. "Mama needed you today. Where were you?"
"I was out running some errands," he replied, setting his teacup down and leaning back in his chair.
"Of course you were," she scoffed. "Mama was unwell. When I couldn't find you, I sent for Libby. I was told she and Anna were not in."
He clenched his jaw.
"I know something is going on. I can sense it in the hushed whispers." Mary stepped into the room.
Pen didn't know what to tell her. On the one hand, he didn't want to alarm her with news of Libby's disappearance, and on the other, he wanted her to know the truth should the worst come to pass.
"What is going on, Penforth?"
He sighed. Out with it. It's better this way, he thought. "Libby is missing."
"What?" She blanched and her brown eyes pooled with sudden tears.
"She disappeared two days ago from Anna's soirée." Pen was trying to break this to her as gently as he could, but she was not taking it well.
"And what are you doing to find her?" Her expression was both horrified and accusing. There was no uncertainty as to who she blamed.
"Everything I can."
"I don't believe you. I don't trust you're doing everything you can to find my sister."
"She’s my sister too,” he reminded her. “And I have been out with Anna all day looking for her. All last night and the night before, too." He disliked the desperate tone he detected in his own voice. "You have to believe me."
The pain and lack of faith were clear in her eyes. "Why should I? You've never cared about us."
The accusation stung. "I have always ensured that you have a roof over your head," he said coolly. "You eat well, you move in the best circles, and you wear the latest and most expensive fashion." He took a breath to uncoil the agitation from his mind. "Don't tell me I don't care."
"You're barely here!" she snapped, sinking into the other chair and dropping her face into her hands. "If you'd been here for us, if you'd been watching us, Libby wouldn't have disappeared."
"I was at the soirée," he said defensively.
The sixteen-year-old shook her head. "That’s even worse!"
With a choking feeling in his throat, he leaned forward to touch her shoulder but she shrunk from him.
"Mary..."
She began to sob.
"I'll find Libby. I promise you that."
"Your promises mean nothing." She stood up and fled the room. Treacle followed moments later.
Pen raked his fingers through his hair and groaned. The feeling of failure was keen and heavy. He would rest tonight, rebuild his strength and energy, and then on the morrow, he and Anna would return to Cambridge and move heaven and earth to find Libby.
***
The quiet and gloom that greeted Anna upon entry into her home was almost crushing. Webb’s grim demeanor further darkened the house.
“Did anyone come looking for me?” She asked the question half-heartedly, not because she’d particularly been expecting anyone.
“Yes, my lady.” Webb adjusted his starched neckcloth before he continued. “Princess Mary Armstrong-Leeds sent for you and her sister.”
“Oh, no,” Anna breathed, dread mixing with guilt.
“I saw to it that she was informed you were both out.”
Mary had not seen or heard from Libby for a while; she must know by now that something was wrong. Anna didn’t want to face her until they had found Libby. What could she possibly say? Yes, she didn’t have any control over that night’s events, but it had happened in her house, thus making the responsibility hers.
“Is there anything else?”
“I don’t believe there is, my lady. Unless we are going to count the pile of invitations and missives waiting for your response.” He waved toward the envelopes littering the marble console against the left wall of the entrance hall.
She dismissed them with a wave of her hand. Everything would have to wait until her best friend was found.
“Have Eva run me a bath, and I would like something to eat…something warm.”
She clutched the polished balustrade and lifted her heavy skirt to begin a weary procession up the stairs.
It didn’t take long for Eva to have a bath ready and while helping Anna out of her dress, the maid nervously cleared her throat. Then she did it again. Anna thought nothing of it until she did it a third time.
“Is something wrong with your throat?”
“Err…forgive what I am about to say, my lady.” She paused and Anna waited patiently. “There is some talk in the servants’ quarters.”
Anna knew what talk it was and she was not surprised. It was bound to come out, eventually. “Talk of what?”
Eva hesitated.
“You can tell me, Eva.”
“It’s Lady Elizabeth. Some of the servants are talking of a disappearance.”
“I see,” she said coolly, contemplating whether to have a staff meeting this night or wait until morning.
“Mr. Webb has given us all a censure and asked us to be quiet about it,” she quickly clarified, correctly interpreting Anna’s stern look.
“In that case, I will see all of you in the morning.” She trusted Webb, but felt she needed to add to his efforts in keeping Libby’s disappearance a secret. Well, it was not much of a secret now, was it?
“There is something else you should know,” Eva said.
Anna was about to step into her bath but she stood, waiting to Eva to continue.
“The footman Robert told me he saw the new footman Van Daal speaking with a strange man in the garden that night.”
Anna’s eyes widened at the news. “Did he tell you what the strange man looked like?”
“Yes, he had the look of a hired ruffian; bald and brawny.”
“Get Robert,” Anna ordered, grabbing the thick velvet dressing gown Eva had laid out for her on the bed.
“Now?” Eva asked.
On second thought, she would have that staff meeting right now. “Tell Webb to summon everyone to the rose drawing room.”
“Yes, my lady.” Eva scurried out of the room, tripping and almost falling as she went.
If Robert was right, then Libby’s abduction had inside involvement. This had to be dealt with without delay. She couldn’t believe one of the servants would do this, but then, that particular staff member was new.
They were waiting for her with wary and perplexed expressions on their faces when she reached the drawing room.
“I believe you are aware of what happened in this house. The issue involving my friend, Princess Elizabeth.”
Some nodded while others remained impassive. The new footman was one of the impassive ones.
“I should have questioned all of you that night, but I will admit the thought did not occur to me. Do you know why I didn’t think to question you?” Her gaze roamed their faces, on
e after the other. “Because I trust you.” Her eyes were on Webb and the housekeeper Mrs. Faulkner when she said that. Mrs. Faulkner lowered her eyes in obvious embarrassment.
She was placing some blame on them. Perhaps it was unfair, but they were tasked with employing new staff. If they could not do that properly, then she had every cause to believe they did not have her family’s best interests at heart.
“I need anyone who knows anything about this matter, to step forward.”
Eva nervously stepped out from the line, giving Robert a knowing look. After a moment, he too stepped out. Everyone else remained where they were.
“Anyone else?” Anna asked. No additional person stepped forward. “Fine. All of you with the exception of Van Daal, Eva, Robert, Webb, and Mrs. Faulkner may leave.”
Van Daal tugged at his neckcloth—a clear indication of his guilt—as the others filed out of the drawing room.
“Eva, please repeat what you said to me upstairs.”
Furtively casting an anxious glance in Van Daal’s direction, Eva cleared her throat and reiterated what she had told Anna.
“Can you confirm that, Robert?”
Robert nodded. “Yes, my lady.”
She turned to Van Daal, who was now sweating. “Are they telling the truth?”
He did not respond.
“You are being spoken to, boy,” Webb said in a chilly voice.
“Y-yes, m-my lady,” he stammered.
Her hands balled into fists at her side as she tried to keep her voice even. “Who put you up to it?”
“William Singer. I knew him from my youth. He gave me money—I really needed the money—and asked me to watch Lady Elizabeth. To inform him as soon as she was alone.”
Anna bit the inside of her cheek in anger. “How much did he give you?”
“Fifteen dollars.” He bowed his head in what looked like shame.
“I see fifteen dollars is more important than your job, reputation, and security.”
“Forgive me, my lady. I should never have done that.” He sank to his knees.
“Of course you would say that after getting caught. Where is Singer now?
“I don’t know.” His chin quivered and it further angered Anna. He had sold her family for fifteen dollars! Truculence and violence were not in her nature, but she wanted to hit him right then. “I know where he lives,” the man added.
Without being asked, Webb retrieved a paper and a pen from the escritoire. “The address?” he demanded. Van Daal obeyed and Webb wrote it down and handed her the sheet.
“Do you have any family?” she asked.
“No. I am an only child and my folks are dead.”
Not having any family should make what she was going to do easier. “Find somewhere to lock him up tonight. The police will come for him in the morning,” she said to Webb and Mrs. Faulkner.
Van Daal lay flat, grasping at the skirt of her robe, begging, but she stepped away. Webb caught the man’s flailing arms and, with Robert’s help, bound them behind him with the neckcloth he’d been wearing.
If Pen had been here, he’d have throttled Van Daal. Maybe luck was real. This man had gotten lucky.
Anna sank onto the nearest sofa and Mrs. Faulkner sidled up to her. “I am so sorry, dear child.”
Anna wanted to cry. “I don’t know how this happened, Mrs. Faulkner.”
“He had several excellent recommendations. We really thought he was good.”
Perhaps she was wrong to blame them for hiring a bad apple. Good recommendations often validated employers’ trust and they obviously thought they could trust Van Daal. “It’s not your fault.”
“We shall be more strict and run more background checks in future, I promise you,” Mrs. Faulkner assured.
“Thank you, Mrs. Faulkner.” She stood. Her bath must have gone cold by now.
The older woman gave Anna a motherly smile. “Eva will see that your bath is reheated, and I will be up with your dinner.”
After a hot bath, Anna sat on her bed with her legs tucked under her and a food tray in front of her, willing herself to eat. She had been hungry earlier, but after the exhausting interrogation of the servants, she was too drained to muster any appetite. Nevertheless, she forced herself to eat the beef stew and the peach cobbler. Although the food was delicious enough to make her forget her pangs of hunger, it did nothing in the way of providing emotional comfort.
And when she lay her head on the pillow and pulled the cover over her head, the tears that had stung at the back of her eyes all day fell unbidden.
Once again, the cold claws of loneliness wrapped around her heart, crushing it. Every tear that fell yearned to be wiped away by a loving hand.
She wished Libby had never disappeared. She wished her mother was home. She wished Pen could see her as more than Libby's friend. Her time with him today had sparked a realization; opened her mind to feelings she didn't know had been growing. And now the thought of those feelings going unrequited was quite unbearable.
***
When Anna woke in the morning, she was still tired, as if she'd run several miles, but her mind was sharp and clear. She had a task to do.
She swung her feet to the side of the bed and peered at the clock on the dresser: it was just past six. Wrapping herself in her robe, she stood and walked to the window where she pulled the heavy velvet drapes apart to let some light into the room. A mist-covered garden that had completely succumbed to the draining powers of Fall greeted her. And the ash tree she loved sitting under was almost devoid of leaves.
Was anything cheery anymore?
She turned from the window and crossed the room to ring for Eva.
Knowing where they would be venturing today, she chose a dress of gray velvet. A melancholic color, she knew, but also inconspicuous. And when she was dressed, she went downstairs to arrange to send a message to Penforth.
He'd said he would come for her at seven but things had changed. There was Van Daal to deal with.
Although the house had long been awake, the sound of her boot heels clicking against the parquet floor and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer were the only audible sounds. The feeling of desertion once more rose to the surface, but before it could take hold, Mrs. Faulkner appeared.
"Good morning, child," she greeted with forced cheer.
"Good morning, Mrs. Faulkner," Anna returned. "I need to send a message to Sir Penforth as soon as possible. And, please have my breakfast ready. I will be in the dining room shortly."
"Of course. I'll fetch a messenger."
Anna proceeded to her father's private sanctum and sat in the leather chair behind the massive lacquered mahogany desk. She found a paper and a pen and scrawled a message for Pen. The footman who would deliver the message entered as she was applying the wax seal to the envelope.
"Take this directly to Sir Penforth and wait for a reply."
He bowed before leaving. Anna was rising from the chair when a persistent knock echoed through the house. She picked up her skirts and rushed out into the foyer. The person attacking the front door did not put the knocker down, for they continued to slam it against the door without rest.
Looking as unperturbed as could be, Webb crossed the hall and opened the door. Before he or Anna had time to register the person on the other side, a small figure in blue pushed past Webb and made straight for Anna.
Her arms shot out with lightning speed to hold off the figure—a girl.
The girl lowered the hood of her cloak.
"Mary?" Anna gasped, surprised.
"Is it true?" the young girl asked. Her eyelids were red and swollen from crying.
"Oh, dear." She pulled Mary into her arms. "Come and sit."
Taking her into the rose drawing room, she lowered her onto the sofa and divested her visitor of her damp cloak.
"Has Libby truly gone missing?" she asked, as Anna sat beside her.
A nod was the only confirmation she could give and the girl burst into tears.
Anna gathered her close, cooing softly to comfort her.
"We're doing everything we can to find her. Pen—"
Mary pulled away quickly and her dark eyes turned hard. "Don't talk to me about Pen! This is all his fault!"
Anna had a feeling there was more to Mary’s accusation than met the eye.
"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, Mary. Libby was in this house, under my care when she disappeared. Pen had nothing to do with it."
She shook her head. "It's not your fault, Anna. Pen has never paid attention to us. Who we are, how we feel."
"But that is no reason to blame him."
Her dark expression was directed at Anna now. "Are you defending him?"
"I am not taking anyone's side," Anna said in a mollifying tone. "I understand the issues you have with your brother and I don't want them to obstruct your judgment. He is doing everything he can to bring Libby back."
"I don't trust he is doing everything he can." Mary shot to her feet and began pacing the room. "He hardly ever talks to me or Libby, or even Mama. We're nothing but people sharing the same house and for whom he is duty-bound to provide."
Anna understood the neglect Mary was feeling, for Libby had often expressed similar sentiments about her brother. And yet, she also understood Pen's detachment. He'd once held something dear and it had been taken from him. He didn't want to lose again, and his way of protecting himself had been to keep his distance, from everyone and everything.
"Mary," Anna walked up to the young girl and halted her pacing by taking her hands. "You're Pen's family and he cares deeply for you. He merely has a hard time showing his feelings."
The girl sniffed as her chin quivered. "You think so?"
Anna wanted to believe it. “I know so,” she said firmly. “Have you taken a good look at him since the start of this unfortunate event?”
Mary shook her head.
"He's neither slept nor eaten properly. We were out all day yesterday and in a short while we will be gone again, likely for the whole day today, too. We won't rest until Libby is home safe."
Mary hugged her tightly. "I am just so scared."
"I know, sweetheart. Everything will be fine."
Anna was scared too, but she couldn't admit that. Mary needed someone to be strong and Anna was going to be that person.
