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

we thought it might be fun . . .” He stared up at us. “It wasn’t. The thing was beastly heavy, and Tony managed to roll it over his foot somehow. That’s how it all started, you see. He planned to ride to Maidstone that very evening, only he couldn’t because of his injury.”

Piers opened his hands. “And?”

“Tony had an opera dancer there he’d made promises to . . .” He looked at me. “Dash it all, you don’t need all the blasteddetails. It was a sticky situation, one I’m not proud of, but Kendal, Hugh, and I decided to ride to Maidstone on his behalfand pay the chit off. When we returned, we lit a lamp on top of the statue to notify Tony we had completed the mission. Thatwas the first official meeting of our society.”

Piers folded his hands together. “And Seline knew of this . . . society.”

Avery nodded. “Guess so. She must have figured out somehow that Kendal would be at the abbey that night.” He stood. “But thatwas the end of it. She arrived, had an argument with Kendal, and left. The society had nothing to do with whatever happenedafter that. The more I think about it, the more I believe she’s standing in a church or even over a curst anvil in GretnaGreen taking her wedding vows this very minute.” He shrugged and started for the door. “Mother needs my assistance beforesupper. I forgot I told her I’d stop by, and here I am prattling with the two of you.”

“Then, by all means . . .” Piers waited for Avery to leave before turning to me. “Quite a reaction, wouldn’t you say?”

“It was indeed.” A prickle worked its way up my back, and I widened my eyes. We hadn’t even had a chance to ask about thelook-alike cloak.

Chapter 11

I couldn’t sleep that night, consumed by what Avery had and hadn’t revealed about the abbey and the nonsensical beginningsof his secret society. I didn’t know Lord Kendal all that well, but I knew Hugh and Tony would think long and hard beforeagreeing to such a ploy.

Of course it was just the sort of thing Avery would do. He’d always had a flair for the dramatic. I scrunched the eiderdownbeneath my chin, the chill of the room hovering about me.

The question was—had Avery disclosed everything about the night Seline disappeared? My shoulders wilted beneath the covers.After he’d dashed off in such a way, I highly doubted it.

The next few interminable hours involved a great deal of tossing and turning before I finally pushed into a sitting positionon the side of the bed. Late or not, I had best find something to read or there would be no sleep for me.

I eased from the bed and onto the cold floorboards, gathering my robe and slippers on my way to the door. The onset of nighthad brought with it a deathly stillness that had swallowed up every inch of Loxby Manor—the black silence, the distinct nipof vulnerability. I pulled my robe tight around my neck.

In some ways it felt good to stretch and move. But as I cracked open the door to my bedchamber, the merest prickle of unease scaled my neck and fanned out at the base of my hair. It was a familiar sensation, one I particularly loathed, for I knew what followed. Like clockwork a series of images rushed into my mind—the green leaves of the tea plants, the sliver of moonlight, a dark figure walking toward me. This time, however, when my attacker’s eyes came into focus, the indeterminate glare of the faceless statue from Kinwich Abbey joined the all-too-real green eyes of the groom in Ceylon.

My breathing quickened and my muscles clenched.

No. I crushed my fingers into a fist. Please, God. No more. I was back at Loxby Manor and Captain Halliwell for goodness’ sake—not a sniveling, fearful slip of a person. I stared upat the crossbeams on the ceiling of the corridor. Take it away!

A soft purr sounded at my feet, and I jerked my attention down as Snowdrop rubbed against my legs. The tension in my shoulderseased a bit, and though a bit unsteady, I was able to kneel down beside her.

The poor dear had found her way back to my hallway, probably on her way to my room. I stroked her head, running my fingersone at a time around her ears. She’d arrived just when I needed her.

Careful not to frighten her, I gathered her into my arms and pressed my nose into her soft fur. How did she know I wantedher? I glared down the darkened hall. Tonight Snowdrop and I would hunt a book together, and then maybe someday I could findthe strength within myself to do so on my own.

I fetched the hall tinderbox and set Snowdrop down to light a candle at the turn of the corridor. The cat seemed happy enough to join me on my quest, so I allowed her to walk beside me. It was not until I reached the end of the family wing that I heard the ghostly murmur of a wail.

I froze. It was a woman to be sure, and she was crying. For a breathless moment I thought it might be Seline, but as I creptforward, following the gasping tears, I was led straight to Mrs. Cavanagh’s door.

She’d not closed it completely, and I could see her darting about her bedchamber through a candlelit sliver, her white handkerchiefwild in her hands. Though I doubted any intrusion by me would be met with approval, I also realized rather sadly that I wasthe only other lady in the house, and Mrs. Cavanagh might very well need me.

I rapped my knuckles against the door.

She whirled about. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Miss Halliwell, ma’am.”

There was a creak of shifting wood as Mrs. Cavanagh thrust something into a desk drawer and slammed it closed. “You may comein.”

She was wiping her eyes as I pushed the door wide. “I am sorry to disturb you.” I motioned into the hallway. “I was in searchof a book,