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

anxiety well. Goodness knowsI’ve given her my own share of trouble. I don’t want her knowing there could be more to this business than a simple elopementto Gretna Green. Not yet at least. And I certainly don’t want my father catching wind of it. The shock could very well killhim. He has taken a turn for the worst over the last few days. Mother and I decided this morning that it’s best to keep asmuch as we can about this business from my father.”

“But you believe me and will look into it?”

“Once I hear back from Uncle Charles, yes. He may yet come upon them on the road.”

“That could take weeks.”

He opened his hands. “What other choice do we have? Seline has been reckless before. She never should have . . .”

My ears buzzed, drowning out his words. The disapproval written on his face was obvious enough. What woman would go out aloneat night? Whatever happened to Seline was inevitably her fault. She deserved it.

Tears welled in my eyes as memories flashed through my mind.

I deserved what happened to me in Ceylon as well.

*  *  *

I know Piers never would have disparaged Seline if he’d had the slightest idea of how his words would affect me later thatnight. In the small hours, when the darkness ruled the recesses of my bedchamber and scaled the walls of my mind, I couldno more stop the barrage of memories than I could cease breathing.

Back I fell into the past, to the year I moved to Ceylon, to the last cool night of the summer. The sounds of the ballroomstill echoed in my ears. I’d become restless with the crowds and never even stopped to question my moonlit stroll alone inthe tea fields. I’d not had cause to do so before, and I craved the beauty of silence and the simplicity of nature at rest.I had been missing home, missing Piers. A gentle breeze tugged me into the rolling hills bursting with the lush green teaplants.

My attacker must have been watching me when I left the house, because he timed his arrival perfectly. Thick rows of tea plantsstretched out in concentric circles around me. As I crested a slight hill, I paused to admire the breathtaking view, unawarethe estate had disappeared into the darkness behind me.

The man had a lazy air about his movements. He was a commoner, yes, but British and handsome. He said he was working as agroom for one of our government officials. I had no reason to distrust him, yet a wave of disquiet washed over me the minutehe arrived with his sharp gaze and easy smile. He was so very friendly, and I’d always loved learning about people from everywalk of life.

The house slipped farther and farther beyond the hill.

And my world was never the same. Though he was interrupted by the call of a farmworker before the whole of my dignity wastaken, he still escaped with a great deal of my innocence and all my hopes for any sort of future. Besides my mother, I toldno one. And neither did he.

Chapter 5

Mrs. Cavanagh gathered her scattered wits long enough to join us for supper the next evening. Avery was in rare form, seeingto all her needs. It was “Yes, Mother,” and “Can I send a servant to get that for you, Mother?” throughout the meal. However,when we retired to the drawing room and the men to their port, her attention snapped to me.

Resting comfortably on the scrolled end sofa, she instructed me to place a blanket across her lap.

“Yes, dear, that is much better. With my nerves as they are, I wouldn’t wish to catch a chill.”

After ensuring the fireplace screen was just so, I took a hesitant seat at her side, conscious for the first time of an uncomfortabletension between us. I straightened my skirt. “How long do you believe it will be before we hear word from Mr. Charles Cavanagh?”

She expelled a huff. “Gretna Green is a full five-day ride from here. I cannot imagine we shall hear anything within the week.”She toyed with the edge of her lace cap. “In the meantime”—a well-placed pause—“there is something I should like to discusswith you.”

“Oh?” My mind scrambled for what she could possibly be alluding to. Piers had warned me to keep my concerns about Seline tomyself, so I affixed a light smile.

She popped open a tortoiseshell fan and spoke from behind it. “Did your mother tell you that Mr. Cavanagh has not been well these past few years?” She tapped the side of her head with the corner of the fan. “He suffers greatly, and it has only worsened over the last few days.”

I narrowed my eyes. Mr. Cavanagh had certainly seemed lucid when I overheard their argument, but I nodded. One never did knowa person, not really. Besides, it was quite unlikely I would encounter Mr. Cavanagh often during my stay.

Ignorant of my confusion, Mrs. Cavanagh went on, fanning herself as she spoke. “Avery and I have decided it would be bestnot to tell him too much about Seline’s elopement. He knows she’s left, but I don’t wish to give him further concern.”

I seemed to remember Piers being the one to make the decision regarding his father, but I said nothing to that end. “Don’tworry. I won’t say a word.”

She pressed her lips together. “Thank you, dear, but I would even take it a bit further.”

My smile fell.

“I want you to avoid him in the house if at all possible. He’s assisted from his room from time to time when he is able, andI’m quite cautious with his care.” She touched my hand. “You must understand, Mr. Cavanagh tends to get confused at times.He’s always been a bit volatile, but after the accident . . . well . . . When he learned of Seline’s disgrace with the stableboy, for example, he refused food the entire day. The doctor warned us not to get him excited, and after everything that hashappened, I think it prudent for you to stay away as best you can.”

I darted one last glance at