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

She waved some smelling salts beneath her nose before flopping into her desk chair. “I-I didn’t realize anyone was still awake.”She sniffed and used her hand as a makeshift fan. “You needn’t have bothered to check on me. I spend most of my nights asyou find me.”

Her arm shook as she rested it on the desk, which drew my attention to a spot of red near the tip of one of her fingers.

“Oh dear. Have you injured yourself?”

She quickly covered the finger with her handkerchief. “Nothing to worry over. I’m afraid my nerves got the best of me this time. I daresay I bit it to the quick.” She closed her eyes for a moment before fumbling for her hairbrush. Several seconds passed as she watched herself in the looking glass before she spoke. “I suppose everyone will think me a terrible mother when they learn of what has happened—allowing Seline to rush off like she did.”

I walked over to her. “I imagine it will be something of a shock, but at the same time, we all realize there is nothing youcould have done to change what happened that night.”

“Wasn’t there?” Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she pivoted to face me, her gaze searching mine. “What a dear you are totry to comfort me.” She squeezed my hand. “Of course it will be some time before you could possibly understand the complexitiesof being a mother.” Her eyes grew cold. “Motherhood is nothing but worry and doubt, waves of unrelenting pain. You can doevery little thing within your power for your offspring and end up with ungrateful children.” She whirled back to the glass.“At least I have Avery.”

And Piers.

I stood stone-still for several seconds, a wariness filling my chest.

How could a mother favor one son so clearly over the other? I knew how much Piers loved her. The entire affair was a sad business.

I opened my mouth to form some sort of response when Mrs. Cavanagh broke the silence with a shriek. “What is that thing doing in here?”

Snowdrop scampered to the safety of my legs, and I scooped her up. “It’s only Seline’s cat. She’s quite friendly. See?”

“Don’t come a step closer. I told Baker if that horrid beast ever found its way into this house again, I’d . . .” Her attentionshifted to my wide eyes, and then she threw her hands in the air. “Don’t tell me you formed a tender for such a vile creature.”

Mrs. Cavanagh pranced to the wall, and I had little time to react before she tugged the bell pull—hard. “My maid will seethat thing is taken care of once and for all.”

As if Snowdrop understood the severity of what was happening, she squirmed to get away, but I drew her close to my chest.“Please, don’t hurt her. She’s a darling.”

Mrs. Cavanagh’s eyes flashed in the firelight. “Ha!” Her shoulders snapped back, her voice razor sharp. “What do you takeme for? Hurt her indeed.” She trounced back to the dresser. “’Pon rep, what a presumptuous young lady you have grown into,Miss Halliwell.”

“I do apologize. That is not what I meant at all.” An empty feeling settled into the pit of my stomach, and I spoke with farless alacrity. “You needn’t bother your maid. I will see the cat removed from the house.”

She seemed to relax a little, but the civility I’d experienced upon arrival was spent.

“I suppose that will do.” She glanced about the room as if the darkened corners might provide her the words she sought. “Ishouldn’t have snapped at you so. I’m afraid I’m not entirely myself at present.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “AfterSeline’s utter betrayal, my nerves have been pushed to the limits. There are times I fear for my very sanity.”

The word betrayal sent the hairs on my arms prickling, and I shifted into her line of sight. “Mrs. Cavanagh, what if Seline didn’t go withMiles Lacy after all? What if it was something more serious?”

She pursed her lips, the balance of my words weighed in turn according to the lines on her face. “Does it really matter atthis point? She’ll be ruined either way.”

I shook my head, the apathy in her voice echoing in my ears. “Does it really matter?”

My father once told me that the light of a solitary fire at night could reveal a great deal. I never really knew what he meant, not until that moment. My senses felt heightened, my perception far more focused. I watched Mrs. Cavanagh as she dabbed her dry eyes with the handkerchief she had wrapped around her bloody finger.

Had I truly ever seen her before? The real her—the very definition of duplicity?

She said she valued experience yet did everything she could to hide her aging body. She demanded allegiance from her childrenbut cast them off without a thought. The firelight danced across Mrs. Cavanagh’s sallow cheekbones, highlighting the depthto her intricate gaze.

Was Mrs. Cavanagh mourning the absence of her daughter or merely the destruction of her reputation—the same unforgivable actof disloyalty Piers had inflicted on her so many years ago?

Mrs. Cavanagh ran her fingers through a ruffle on her gown as she produced one last sniffle.

There was no way to tell—not until Seline returned.

*  *  *

Snowdrop made the perfect companion that night in my room. In fact, I slept so well I was late making my way to the breakfastroom the following morning. I nearly missed Piers completely.

Thankfully I came upon him at the foot of the grand staircase.

He was dressed for riding, his pantaloons tucked neatly beneath a rather fetching pair of Hessian boots. The blue tint ofhis jacket matched his eyes perfectly. I found it difficult not to stare as I descended the final steps into his waiting grin.

“Good morning.” There was a slight lilt to his voice, and I instantly read into those two simple words. Had something changedbetween us since our visit to Kinwich Abbey yesterday?

I offered him a slight smile, not too bold. “Where are you off to this morning?”

“I sent a note to Hugh yesterday at his