Escaping Notice (27 page)

There was the sound of a step behind her. “There you are — Miss
Leigh has been asking for you,” Mrs. Adams said. “What are you
doing down here?”

“Oh, Mrs. Adams, Ned is missing! I am so afraid he is lying hurt
somewhere.”

“Missing! Along with the necklace, I’ll be bound!”

“No! Quite apart from anything else, he did not have any
opportunity to steal the necklace. He has been helping the cook in
the kitchen; she told me so herself, and that he was working under
her supervision. Before dinner, he grew ill and she sent him to his
room, but he is not there. I am so afraid he went out for a breath
of air to ease his stomach and got lost. We are new here, he could
easily have got lost outside, or hurt.”

Mrs. Adams studied her face. “Where is Cook?”

“She went to the cellars to look for Ned.”

“Why would she think Ned might be there? Does she not keep the
doors locked?”

“Yes, Mrs. Adams,” Helen replied, feeling increasingly
miserable. “I asked her to look, although she said she went down
alone much earlier in the afternoon. I just don’t know where else
to look.”

“He is your brother, where do you think he would go?”

“Outside, for some air …. What if he got lost in the maze? He is
just a child; he could have wandered inside and could not find his
way out.”

Mrs. Adams pressed her mouth shut. Helen's heart sank. She would
get no help from the housekeeper, and Ned might be lying somewhere,
abandoned and afraid.

“ …
do not act on your own opinion, nor hastily, but,
confidentially, consult your mistress ….” —
The Complete
Servant

“I'll fetch Mr. Symes. We will have to search the grounds. The
weather here is uncertain, and we cannot leave a child outside all
night,” Mrs. Adams said.

Helen stared at her in surprise. Perhaps she had judged the
housekeeper unfairly.

“Well, go on.” Mrs. Adams waved her away. “There is no time to
waste. Most of the servants will not have gone to bed yet. We will
find him.”

“Thank you,” Helen said, impulsively catching Mrs. Adam's wrist
and pressing a kiss to her cool cheek.

Mrs. Adams appeared nonplussed at Helen's action. Raising a
hand, she reseated her cap before pushing Helen away. “Well, get on
with it, or none of us will get any rest tonight.”

Rushing out, Helen ran through the corridors to the green door
dividing the servants' part of the house from the family's. In the
small butler's cubby hole near the front door, Mr. Symes was
bending over a notebook, carefully annotating something.

“Mr. Symes, my brother, Ned, is missing. Mrs. Adams sent me to
request your assistance. She is in the kitchen.”

He rose ponderously and sighed. “I will join her. Yet another
fruitless search,” he commented under his breath, as he followed
her down the hallway.

However, instead of returning to the kitchen, Helen dashed up
the grand staircase, hoping no-one would notice her scandalous
behavior in daring to do so. She would get her shawl and join the
search. They would find Ned. Everything would be all right.

She had to believe it.

§

“Where have you been?” Miss Leigh asked, as Helen hurried into
the room.

“My brother is missing —”

“Mr. Caswell?” She let out a long breath and settled into her
chair by the fire. “I cannot say I'm disappointed to see him go. He
may be an excellent steward, but he allowed his curiosity to get
the better of his sense.”

“Not him — Ned.”

“Ned?” Miss Leigh rose, reaching a hand out and gripping the
chair back to steady herself. “Missing?”

“He may have got lost outside,” Helen answered distractedly,
snatching her shawl off the hook by the door.

“The maze.” Miss Leigh nodded and settled her own shawl around
her shoulders. “He undoubtedly went into the maze and got lost. I
always said that would happen one day. Thankfully, I have mastered
the design. I will find him.”

“Oh, no — you can't! You are ill. I cannot let you go.”

“I beg your pardon?” Miss Leigh replied in an icy voice. “Do you
presume to tell me what I can and cannot do?”

“No, Miss Leigh, but —”

“I shall find him, never fear. It is a matter of moments. Now
stop gawking and fetch a lantern. You shall accompany me.” A
cynical light glowed in the depths of her hollow eyes. “He may be
afraid of an old witch like me, but he will doubtless come to you.
I suspect any male would.”

As if any man would find me attractive with a faded gown and
hair scraped back so severely it makes my head ache
. Blushing,
Helen turned away to fetch an old shuttered lamp from her room.

Most likely, Ned will think I'm a ghost, haunting unfortunate
souls lost in the maze.
She just hoped her appearance would not
send him screaming deeper into the night.

“
His character must be irreproachable and exemplary ….”
—
The Complete Servant

Hugh took one last look around the stables. Horses shuffled
drowsily in their stalls, their warm breath whispering in the
silence. No one had seen Ned, although the cat had managed to
reproduce sometime during the day and now had a litter of seven
mewling kittens. If anything could catch the attention of a small
child, it would be the newborn cats.

The fact that Ned was not here troubled Hugh more than he wanted
to admit. There were a lot of places for a young boy to hide, but
none of them were comfortable locations in which to spend the
night.

He left and closed the door gently, slipping the wooden latch
into place. When he turned, he saw the lean, dark figure of a man
looping the reins of his horse round one of the iron rings on the
post at the corner of the building.

“Mr. Gaunt! What are you doing here?” Hugh asked, startled.

“I had some information I thought you should have as soon as
possible.”

“What is it? I am in a damnable hurry. That boy, Ned, is
missing. It may be nothing, but it is going to be a cold night. I
do not want another death on my hands.”

Mr. Gaunt nodded. “Then I'll be quick. I went to the village to
question the vicar your brother planned to visit. He let slip the
information that Mr. Castle had a habit of visiting Bath — and
occasionally London — to gamble.”

“So he liked to play cards —” The journal Ned had given Hugh
told him all he wanted to know about his brother’s habits. And
resentment.

So many regrets ….

“I beg your pardon. Faro and horses, my lord. The vicar was
worried. The last time Mr. Castle visited him, he indicated he had
suffered a string of bad luck.”

“What are you insinuating? That he owed someone money?”

Mr. Gaunt stared into the darkness, his face too shadowed to
read clearly. “I tracked down his favorite haunts. He had paid off
most of his debts. He was not one to shirk his
responsibilities.”

“Then, I do not understand.”

“On his last trip to London, he lost the Twilight.”

Hugh laughed uneasily. “You must be wrong. The vessel was mine.
He could not lose what he did not own.”

“Nonetheless, that was his wager.”

It was a full minute before Hugh mastered his anger well enough
to speak. “Who did he owe? Did you see the vowel?”

“Yes. Although the party tore it up when he heard the news.”

“How convenient.”

“There was no mistake. The wager was recorded in the betting
book at White's.”

“Good God.” Hugh ran a shaking hand through his hair.
White’s?
Had everyone been aware of his brother’s habits
except him?

“The party in question is known for a foul temper and taste for
revenge. With your permission, I would like to pursue this course
of inquiry.”

“Yes, please,” Hugh replied, thinking of his aunt. Was she
innocent after all? Had the entire affair been a product of
Lionel's gambling? Something stirred in the back of his mind. “I
also discovered evidence today, from another quarter. My aunt may
have been involved. She had a blue coat and knitted cap in her
possession, and she knows the Twilight. As a young woman, she was a
well-renowned sailor. My father had her at the helm on many a race.
None had a better hand or eye.” He glanced at the house with the
sinking feeling that his decision to oust her from Ormsby may have
set this tragic chain of events into motion. “I would not mind
being wrong. I pray to God that I am.”

Gaunt nodded. “And given this gentleman's reputation, it is
possible he felt if he did not get possession of the Twilight, then
no one would own her.”

“Discover what you can. In the meantime, I have a lost child to
find.” Hugh’s gaze sought the darkness of the yard behind the
stables. “Strangely enough, that is more important to me at the
moment. Lionel is beyond our aid. All that is left for him is
justice.”

Gaunt smiled. “Life is always more important than death. Find
Ned. I will continue the investigation until I find an answer or
you tell me to desist.”

“Desist? Why the devil would I tell you to stop before we have
answers?”

Gaunt gave him a strange look, although it could have been the
shifting shadows and imperfect light from the lantern Hugh held.
“Just a thought that occurred to me, my lord.”

“If you have an answer ….”

“Nothing yet.” Gaunt hastened to assure him. “Just a feeling I
would rather not discuss.”

Hugh grunted and thrust out his hand, his anxiety and concern
for Ned outweighing Gaunt's suppositions. He needed to join the
search. Already the air was cooling as night settled around them.
If Ned was hurt, time might be running out. Exposure was a
surreptitious and unrelenting killer.

“Don't worry, Lord Monnow. It may be trite to say, but things
really do appear better in the morning.”

“
The happiness of society arises from each of us keeping our
station ….” —
The Complete Servant

“He is not here,” Helen said, in a dispirited voice. She tucked
her hand under Miss Leigh's elbow to help her along, supporting
most of the older woman's weight.

Miss Leigh's steps flagged but she pointed ahead. “Left here and
then we should see the entrance.”

They stumbled a few more feet. Miss Leigh's breathing blew
harshly through her nose and mouth. Adjusting her grip, Helen felt
her own muscles aching with the effort to maintain Miss Leigh's
slow pace. While she was grateful for Miss Leigh's expertise in
guiding them through the maze, Helen could see the effort was more
than Miss Leigh's worn body could endure.

The sight of the kitchen door raised her spirits and granted her
the energy to get Miss Leigh to the house.

“Cook!” Helen called as she opened the door. “Cook!”

Wiping her meaty hands on her stained apron, Cook walked to the
door. A scowl twisted her heavy features, and she opened her mouth
before she caught sight of Miss Leigh.

Both women gasped in shock when she thrust one arm around Miss
Leigh's back, another under her knees, and picked her up. “What
happened?” she asked, throwing the question to Helen over her
shoulder.

“Put me down! This is outrageous!” Miss Leigh said, although it
came out more as a whispered protest than anything resembling her
normal tone of voice.

“She insisted on searching through every inch of the maze for
Ned.” Helen glanced back at the dark oblong of the doorway, torn
between her concern for Ned and her fear that Miss Leigh may have
overexerted herself to deadly effect. “He's still missing. And Miss
Leigh is ill.”

She glanced again at the door and at Miss Leigh's slippered
feet, dangling over Cook's arm.

The cook lumbered forward. When she reached the door, she turned
sideways to ease through as if carrying a side of beef.

She caught Helen's gaze and nodded. “I'll get her up to her
room. Never fear.”

“I have to — that poor boy,” Miss Leigh gasped through pale
lips. She hit the cook's meaty shoulder with one tight fist. “Let
me down — you are dismissed!”

Cook laughed. “Not bloody likely. No one else can braise a beef
roast like me. My position's safe enough. And young Betsy can tend
you until Miss Helen finds her brother. It won't be long if you let
her go about her business, Miss Leigh. And a pot o'chocolate is
calling your name, I’ll be bound.”

She disappeared before Miss Leigh could answer. But Helen heard
the sound of Miss Leigh’s mollified voice agreeing. Although Helen
did not relish abandoning Miss Leigh, she needed to find Ned. There
was nothing to explain her feeling, but an increasing sense of
urgency tightened her stomach.

“I will return soon,” she called after them. When she stepped
outside the door, she paused. Where should she search? As she
stared into the shadows, she caught sight of two men near the
stables. She recognized the wide-shouldered silhouette of Hugh, but
the other man …. No, she could not place him.

She hurried over just as the second man, tall and thin, turned
away. He unhitched a horse and climbed into the saddle before Helen
reached the corner of the building.

“Hugh,” Helen called, watching the second man ride away. “Miss
Leigh and I searched the maze. She is terribly ill, and I had to
send her back to her room. I just hope this does not prove too much
for her.”

He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “She will be fine.”
Glancing round, he frowned. “Though I cannot think where Ned may
have gone. I hope he has not taken it into his head to run away to
the docks of London to join the navy.”

“I am sure he would not do that — not without telling us.”

“Well, if he was headed towards London, Mr. Gaunt should have
seen him on the road.”

“Unless he ducked down behind a hedgerow.”

“He would have no reason to do that. No. He is still here.
Somewhere.”