The Vanishing at Loxby Manor by Abigail Wilson (grave mercy .TXT) 📕

of hope when Mama had mentioned cousin Samuel would be meeting them in Boston. He had always been thefamily joke when it came to me. If I never found a suitable husband, I could certainly have him. Well, I didn’t want cousinSamuel or anyone else. Not anymore. Why couldn’t anyone understand that?

Mrs. Cavanagh could rest easy. Not only were Piers and Avery marked off any list of mine but I’d torn up the whole drattedthing and torched it to ashes in Ceylon. I had plans of my own, none of which involved a husband.

At some point during the upcoming year, I would find a governess position—one as far away from Loxby as I could get.

Unfortunately I’d made the decision to come to East Whitloe, and I had little choice but to stay at the manor house and await Mrs. Cavanagh’s pleasure for the time being. I owed the family that much. Besides, I couldn’t leave now, not after Seline had disappeared so suddenly, not if I could help her in some way.

I moved past Mr. Baker in the long corridor to the drawing room. There was a moment’s hesitation in his step until he haltedmidway down the hall as if he meant to delay me. But then he gave his head a light shake and hurried on his way.

I plowed through those double mahogany doors as if I owned the world, only to stop short one measly step inside the room.

I immediately realized I was not alone—and my entire world flipped upside down.

Piers Cavanagh didn’t turn from where he stood at the fireplace, but I knew he’d heard the click of the door, for his fingersclenched into a ball and his arm plunged from the mantel to his side.

The air in the room felt thin.

He’d grown taller over the years, his shoulders broad, his dress so terribly refined. Had I ever seen him wear a black jacketquite like that one? All of a sudden I didn’t know where to rest my hands. In front of me or at my sides?

Goodness, the room was warm.

I stepped forward, my brow pulled tight, my chest heavy. Oh dear. What had he done to his hair? The curls I remembered sowell had been cut short, leaving behind a tangle of thick locks dusted with a bit more brown and a little less red.

My heart rode painfully on a storm of nerves, and I could do little but mouth his name as I waited for him to turn and acknowledgeme. Seline said he planned to return today, but had I ever really believed I would see him again?

Carefully he stepped back and glanced over his shoulder, the utter shock of finding me at Loxby all too evident in his blue eyes. “Miss Halliwell?”

It was hard to see anything but the young, carefree boy I’d spent the whole of my youth admiring. One letter had changed everythingbetween us. I knew nothing of the gentleman across the room. “Good morning, Mr. Cavanagh.”

There was a slight silence before he affected a smile. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I suppose your mother didn’t tell you.”

Piers had always been a master at quizzical glances, and he took a moment to examine me. “No, she didn’t.”

I detected a curious note of wistfulness in his voice, and it drew my gaze painfully to his face. “I came for an extendedvisit while my parents are across the Atlantic. I’m to stay at Loxby for the next year.” I swallowed hard, fear of what hemight say swelling in my throat.

“A whole year? That’s”—he looked away for a moment as if to hunt the right word, then turned back to me—“auspicious.” He extendedhis hands as he crossed the rug toward me, but his eyes betrayed a rigid undercurrent that only grew with each second. “Tellme, is your family well?”

“Quite well.” I forced myself to take his hands, only to drop them a second later at the sound of footsteps in the hall.

Piers’s plastered smile vanished, and he stepped shrewdly away. It seemed neither of us was in the mood for playacting.

Mrs. Cavanagh breached the door and bustled past me on a whiff of lavender perfume, her eyes ticking like a clock betweenPiers and me before settling sharply on him.

Her voice, however, sounded defeated. “So you’ve come home at last.”

She trudged to the sofa and settled down, staring for a moment before fluttering her eyes closed and extending her cheek.

I could read the insecurity in Piers’s stark expression as he stooped to place a kiss. “Good morning, Mother.”

She took a loud, quivering breath, then turned to me. “I suppose Miss Halliwell has been airing all our dirty laundry.”

I could have sunk into the floor after what I’d overheard her say earlier in the family wing.

“Certainly not.” Mortified, I made my way to the far end of the sofa and took a seat. “I came into the drawing room but asecond before you did.” I couldn’t help casting a sideways glance at Piers. “I had no idea your son had already arrived.”

Piers gave a shrug and wandered to the window. “If you are referring to Avery’s situation, Mother, I’ve already heard allthe blasted details. I scrambled off a note informing him I would consider writing his teacher a letter if he promised tostart afresh. No more larks.”

Mrs. Cavanagh snorted. “Start fresh indeed. Avery’s the only one I count on at Loxby these days—certainly not Seline. Heavenhelp me if the two of you don’t mean to drag this family through the mud at every turn.” She pressed a handkerchief to hernose, and a slight wail accompanied her words. “I shall never be able to return to London at this rate.”

Piers ignored her outburst and propped his shoulder against the wall. “What has Seline done now?”

“What hasn’t she done?” Another sniffle. “You remember Mr. Lacy?”

He gave her a hard smile. “Who do you think I correspond with weekly on the running of the estate with Father indisposed?”

She waved her handkerchief in the air. “I really wouldn’t know.”

He crossed the room and took a seat in