The Vanishing at Loxby Manor

by Abigail Wilson

  “I did, though he seemed a bit tired from my visit.”

  “I must admit, though I was hesitant at first for you to visit him, I do think your doing so has done him a deal of good. The doctors worry about him greatly. Avery has been forced to handle him with kid gloves, and now me. Particularly of late. Some days he can scarcely move from his bed.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t look forward to the day we must tell him about Miles’s death . . . and what it must mean about Seline. I’m afraid the truth of what happened might very well push him over the edge. My father has fallen into bouts of reclusiveness, even before his accident. My mother always describes him as passionate. Passionately happy, passionately sad, fiercely loyal.”

  “He’s lucky to have a son who cares so deeply for him.”

  Piers wiped a hand down his breeches. “My father and I have never been all that close. Years passed where we rarely exchanged more than two words with one another.” He looked around. “Strange how things turn out so differently than planned. In a way, when I left for Liverpool I knew everyone would change while I was gone, but I never expected to return to this—Avery grown up, Seline disappeared, my father withering away. And you . . .” He shook his head. “Needless to say, I don’t intend to let time pass me by again. Life is far too precious and short.”

  My ears buzzed. “What do you mean . . . me?”

  He picked at the chipped paint on the bench. “Over the years I always imagined you married with children. I suppose I found it easier that way.”

  “Easier than . . . ?”

  A second of stormy silence crept by as he stared at the far garden wall. “The terrible regret I experienced after losing you.”

  For years I’d thought of no one but myself—the painful dissolution of my dreams, the way I’d been forced to change, the scars that would never really heal. But in that vulnerable moment, it was as if I saw Piers for the first time or, more importantly, the hard iron bars of his cage. Such a solitary existence had demanded a toll.

  “Piers . . .” Fear crept into my voice, but as I lifted my eyes to the one person who had always understood me, I was compelled to speak. “Something happened to me in Ceylon.”

  Slowly, he turned to face me, his gaze sharp as a knife. “What do you mean?”

  I felt my hands trembling in my lap and stood to shake them out. “There was a man . . . a groom of one of the British government officials . . . He followed me into the tea fields . . . It was dark . . . We were alone.” Tears stole my voice as my throat grew so thick I could scarcely swallow.

  Piers flew to his feet and grasped my shoulders, gently but willfully forcing me to face him. “What happened?” His voice was a whispered mix of pity and dread.

  “Oh, Piers, he didn’t take everything, but at the same time he did. Please don’t make me say it aloud.”

  His arms went lifeless at his sides as he fought to make sense of what I’d revealed. “I knew something was wrong. I’ve felt it since I arrived. Darling, I—”

  We both froze, as he’d not used the term of endearment since before I left for Ceylon. An accident of course. But what had brought it to his mind now?

  I stared into those familiar blue eyes, glossy with unshed tears, and my heart contracted. Piers Cavanagh, the man I’d loved, then loathed, but never stopped thinking about, felt sorry for me. He’d never look at me the same way again, not as an ardent suitor or as a close friend. I was a victim now, damaged goods—another person in his life whom he must handle with kid gloves.

  It was all I could do to continue. “I-I never meant to tell you, certainly not in this way. I don’t even know what you thought or felt about me two minutes ago. I only know where I left my heart. Rest assured, it is not your public scandal ensuring nothing will ever happen between us; it is my private one.”

  My emotions hit a boiling point, and I whirled away, my shoulders careening into the plants as I escaped to the house. I’d learned long ago it was best to cry in private. But as I fled the garden, I found myself compelled to take one last look back.

  I had known from the start there would be no chance of romance between the two of us; however, no one could have prepared me for how I would feel when I saw the expression on Piers’s face—the moment he realized the same thing.

  Chapter 24

  I lay down to sleep that night trapped within a body that didn’t feel like my own. It had all the right moving parts of course, but as I slid the silky covers along my skin, I barely felt them.

  Piers knew everything now.

  I stared at the shadowed beams in the ceiling as a crack of thunder rattled the windowpane. The whir of heavy rain followed all too quickly, filling my bedchamber with an uncomfortable hum as the angry gusts beat against the walls.

  I wasn’t afraid, not exactly, but each rolling pound of thunder sent my muscles twitching, the very fabric of the storm a breathing reminder of my unsettled mind. I buried my head in my pillow. Why had I ever thought to come to Loxby Manor? I’d spoken with such authority to my mother, declaring my return to East Whitloe would be a haven. At the time I believed Loxby the only place I could find what I’d lost in the tea fields of Ceylon—the promise of hope.

  But my journey back to Britain had not gone as planned.

  Searching for Seline had driven Piers and me round and round in circles, and it would be nothing but painful to have to face him now. I’d delayed my search for a governess position for too long. It was time to start looking at options. Perhaps Mrs. Cavanagh might know of a family. In the morning I would finally broach the subject with her.

  However, when I descended the stairs the following day and entered the drawing room expecting to find her present, I was met instead by an argument between Avery and Piers. I checked at the doorway, immediately thinking better of entering, but Avery had already seen me.

  “Charity.” He motioned me into the room. “You are just the person to talk some sense into my brother.”

  I’m certain my face must have blanched, for a tingle spread across my cheeks. I had to fight hard to avoid Piers’s steady gaze.

  Avery didn’t bat an eye. “Piers had the gall to suggest I forgo joining the two of you on your visit to Rushridge. Believe you me, I know what lurks beyond such a suggestion. He only means to keep me away from Priscilla, and I won’t stand for it.” He crossed his arms. “And after I kept your prior relationship a secret. It’s the outside of enough.”

  Shock unhinged my tongue. “You mean you knew . . . about us?”

  “Well, of course I did. And I wasn’t the only one. Seline and I had the two of you pegged months before I happened upon you in that alcove.”

  My head felt light, my eyes a blur. Avery had seen the kiss. I reached for the back of a chair to steady myself.

  Piers’s voice came out cool and calculated. “That’s enough, Avery. You needn’t be crass.”

  Avery huffed as he turned back to me, belatedly reading the expression on my face. “I beg your pardon, Charity, but you understand, don’t you? I’ve known Priscilla for years. She has a way of getting under my skin, and I can’t seem to shake her. In fact, I don’t mean to. I don’t care what Mother says. I think we suit quite well.”

  I gave him a weak smile. “If only the world were as simple as that—a place where you could follow your heart free of all the complications that come with it.” I was careful not to look at Piers. I could only guess what was churning in his mind.

  Avery seemed a bit put off, stomping to the door to open it. “Well, at any rate, I’m coming with you today whether you two like it or not. We can ponder the intricacies of the heart as well as all the other secrets of the universe another time.”

  We opted for horseback on our journey to Rushridge, and I must say, I did tolerably well avoiding any intimate moments with Piers both in the stables as well as the open fields. Every fiber of my being wanted to know what he thought of my confession, but I’d grown tired of the burden of hidden pain.

  With what little interac
tion we did share, I found Piers decidedly more subdued, but with Avery present the stifling embarrassment or the pitiful looks I’d fully expected never really materialized. We were all just childhood friends set out on one of our adventures.

  The previous night’s torrential storms had vanished with the dawn, leaving a bright sun amid a blue, cloudless sky. I took a deep breath, my gaze wandering the dithered valley to the crisscrossing hedgerows and beyond. For the first time in as long as I could remember, an inkling of peace had found its way into my heart. Perhaps telling someone had its merits after all.

  If only Seline were with us.

  Her absence was the one blight on the perfectly beautiful morning. Piers must have been watching me, because his voice felt like the delicate strokes of a painter, an omniscient one. “Seline would have loved to be here with us.”

  “How did you know I was thinking of her?”

  “I suppose because I am always doing so myself.”

  Avery had drifted a little ahead, and I moved to urge Jewel forward when Piers’s arm shot out, his fingers curling around my reins. “Charity, we didn’t get a chance to finish our discussion yesterday. I’d hoped to have a moment of privacy with you . . .”

  “I said all I mean to.”

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  I closed my eyes. “Not here, Piers. Please.”

  There was an edge to his voice I couldn’t place, but his eyes were soft. “Another time, then?”

  I was spared an answer by Avery’s startled shout. Piers and I jerked our attention toward a small grove of trees several yards off the roadway. Avery had dismounted his horse and was on his hands and knees. “Piers, come at once! Oh God, no!”

  Piers spurred Gypsy forward, and I followed as quickly as I could. He was off the horse’s back in seconds, rushing to Avery’s side. He, too, dropped to the ground before clawing at the dirt, his hands feverish at Avery’s side.

  He must have heard my approach as his head shot up. “Don’t come any closer!”

  “What is it?”

  Avery nodded and Piers pushed to his feet before stalking to the side of my horse. His hands were at my waist, and I slipped onto the ground.

  His face was bereft of life, his eyes stone-cold. His voice came out more like that of a ghost than a man. “I’ve feared for some time this day was coming, but I never could really make myself believe it possible . . .”

  Coils of ice wrapped my heart as I took a closer look at Avery’s desperate hands and the tears pouring down his face. “No!”

  “It’s Seline.” Piers shook his head achingly slow. “Someone buried her battered body in a shallow grave. The heavy rains last night must have washed away some of the earth, exposing a piece of her gown.”

  Disbelief still prowled my mind. “Are you certain?”

  He closed his eyes for a long moment. “Quite certain, I’m afraid.”

  Carefully I reached for his gloved hands, which were wet and muddy from the ground. “How?”

  His voice was choked by emotion and he hesitated to answer, letting out a ragged breath. “It looks as if she was hit over the head.” He squeezed my fingers, pain so evident in his eyes. “Are you well enough to ride for Rushridge? It’s just over that rise. I dare not leave Avery in such a state. Priscilla will be there.”

  All I wanted to do was help him somehow. “My legs are a bit weak, but I can manage.”

  Almost mindlessly he cupped his hands, and I placed my boot into his waiting fingers. I was thrust back onto Jewel and sent cantering down the road before I had much of a chance to process the last few unthinkable minutes. But as I steered my horse through Rushridge’s elaborate gate, it hit me all at once.

  Seline was gone. Dead. Here I’d been worried about my own problems when my dearest friend had been . . . What?

  Murdered? My chest tightened. Someone had placed her body so carelessly in that grave—on Hugh Daunt’s property, no less. Suppositions flashed through my mind until I could bear to think of them no longer. All I knew was Hugh must know something, and I was riding alone to his very doorstep.

  * * *

  Priscilla was fetched from her room straightaway and made quick work of sending a servant to inform the authorities about Seline’s death. After several seconds of disordered pacing, she took a seat beside me on the sofa, oddly undecided about whether we should tell Hugh.

  I was still nursing quite a range of shock when I rounded on her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hugh must be appraised of the situation and at once.”

  She grimaced, the delicate lines on her face pulling tight. “I suppose you’re in the right of it, but I shudder to think what such appalling news will do to him.”

  “Do to him?” Hugh edged into the room, having caught the last breath of our tense conversation.

  Priscilla flew to her feet, mumbling as she raced across the room, roused into fawning all over him.

  Some part of what we were discussing must have shown on our faces, for Hugh would have none of Priscilla, plunging his hand through his hair. “Quit your prattling and tell me what the devil is going on.”

  Priscilla cast me a desperate look, and I moved to intercept. “Please, come into the room and sit down, Hugh. There is something you must know, and it will be difficult to hear.”

  I watched him closely, anxious to soften the blow in some way, but as I picked my way through the words to use, I had a strange thought. Would Hugh be as distraught by the news of Seline’s death as we all thought he would? Though Priscilla had assured me he was teetering on the brink of madness, I wasn’t entirely sure I agreed with her.

  He took a seat, then motioned with his hand. “Well, get on with it.”

  “It’s about Seline.” I slowed my speech to give him time to process all I was about to reveal. “We haven’t told anyone, but she’s been missing since the night she had the argument with Lord Kendal at Kinwich Abbey. A note was found that same night detailing how she’d run off to Gretna Green, which we all believed at first. We had hoped to keep her reputation intact . . . Last night’s storm washed away some of the earth as well as a great many of our questions. We discovered her . . . moments ago in a shallow grave.” I lifted my eyebrows. “On your estate.”

  He seemed utterly lost as his gaze searched the floor, a myriad of emotions flashing in and out of his harried eyes. Finally his hand crept to his mouth. “You mean to tell me . . . Seline is dead?”

  “And has been these past few weeks.”

  I’d had time to consider the possibility of something terrible happening since the night Seline disappeared, but Hugh had been wholly unprepared for the news. He slumped into his chair, covering his face with his hands. “How could this have happened?”

  “I hoped you could shed some light on the situation. Seline must have come to Rushridge after your society meeting at the abbey. Did you speak with her? Did you see her?”

  “I-I didn’t get the chance.” Slowly, methodically, he looked up to meet my eyes. We stared at each other for what felt like a full minute. At length he spoke, his voice altogether different. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  Priscilla rushed to his side and knelt on the carpet. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re both just terribly concerned about what happened. And about you. Perhaps you should—”

  Hugh jumped up and Priscilla was thrust backward.

  “Where will I find this grave?”

  “Off the main estate road. Piers and Avery are there now. The authorities will be on your property shortly.” My words felt strange as they left my mouth. It was as if I’d wandered into a dreamland where all my childhood acquaintances had elevated themselves to villains of their own stories. Well, sort of. Hugh was brass and cold, morose at times, but after witnessing his reaction moments ago, I didn’t think him involved in Seline’s death.

  He paced from the room without looking back, and as with Priscilla, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over me. How would he handle seeing her body? Thank goodness Piers would be there. />
  Priscilla saw her brother to the door, then made her way back to the sofa and slid down beside me. “I didn’t know Seline all that well. A part of me hated her for what she did to Hugh, but I never would have wished her harm.”

  Priscilla’s voice grated against my ears, the numb shock of Seline’s death melting whatever resilience I’d been able to manage thus far. However, something she said caught my attention. “What exactly did Seline do to Hugh?”

  She let out a long sigh. “Hugh spoke of some kind of agreement between them. He actually thought she meant to marry him someday. I overheard him and Tony talking about it last night. They were angry and didn’t know I’d come down to the kitchens for some food. I couldn’t help but listen.”

  Interesting. “What did they say?”

  She toyed with the edge of her lip. “I probably shouldn’t repeat it. Hugh would have my head for doing so, but I don’t want you to think he played any part in Seline’s death.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Seline’s absence will be a terrible wound for him. I only hope he may find a way to come about.”

  She took a glance at the door, and I nodded for her to go on. Now was not the time for secrets.

  “Tony was saying something about how Hugh had tried to leave. I can only assume he meant Seline, because he went right into discussing a curricle race. Apparently Hugh bet a great deal of money on the outcome. Hugh said that once he had given Seline his name, he could find a way out.”

  I sat back. “A way out?”

  “That’s what he said. I assume he means the crushing debt we’ve been living with for the last few years.”

  “But Seline doesn’t have a large dowry.”

  “No, and I also don’t believe for one second that she ever really considered marrying Hugh. She did revel in his attentions, but I daresay she’s the biggest flirt I’ve ever known.” Priscilla’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh dear, I shouldn’t have said that. I never meant to disparage the dead.” She closed her eyes. “I still can’t believe she’s really gone. She had that boisterous personality that no one could ever believe extinguished.” Her icy fingers curled around mine. “How did she die?”