Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 06] - The Noblest Frailty (36 page)

"Good God!" the General exploded. "What utter balderdash!"

"Dear ma'am!" cried Yolande, "I beg you will not so distress
yourself! If Major Tyndale thought his man to be ill, he would have
called in a doctor at once, I do assure you! And certainly you would
have been warned if—"

"Oh, aye!" the woman interposed shrilly. "Warned we
should
hae been! Mark my words, miss, that savage and his foreign master will
bring death and destruction doon upon us all! If little Miss Storm is
missing,
he's
likely responsible! And if my bairn
should dee—" She passed a distracted hand across her brow, darted to
the door and, swinging it open, regarded her astonished callers more
wildly than ever.

Yolande thought, "She is mad, or near it, poor creature!" and
as she passed the woman, murmured a compassionate, "God bless you, poor
soul!"

Her only answer was the door, slamming behind them.

" 'Pon my soul!" gasped the General, unnerved. "You've more
charity than I, m'dear! Perkins told me distinctly this morning he had
examined the bairn and she's only a verra mild case of measles! The
woman must be fair daft!"

"Listen," said Yolande, pausing as they started down the path.

From behind that closed door came the sound of weeping so
intense and so laced with despair that she hesitated, directing an
anxious gaze up at her grandfather.

He drew her hand firmly through his arm. "Let her be!" he
commanded. "No telling what she might do next! I'll have to speak with
MacFarlane, poor devil. His wife is plainly ready for Bedlam! A sad
thing for so young a woman."

"Young?" Yolande said uncertainly. "Why, I'd thought… that is,
she looks to be forty at least, no?"

"She looks it, poor lass. But, no. She's a decade younger, to
say the least of it."

"Good heavens! I can scarcely believe—Grandpapa, has she been
ill?"

"Not that I'm aware. Fey, perhaps. She was a strange little
girl, I mind, full of odd fancies. But she was pretty enough. I recall
her at the castle when old Tyndale was alive. A bonnie wee lass she
was, but—"

"At the
castle
?" Yolande intervened,
breathlessly. "She
lived
there, sir?"

"Aye. With her parents. Her mama was abigail to poor Esme
Devenish, and her father a groom or a gardener, or some such." He
caught Yolande's arm as she turned back. "Hey! Hey, my lass. You'll nae
disturb the woman the noo?"

"But I must! I
must
! She might know
something that could be of help to Cr— I mean, to Devenish!"

Watching her, frowning a little, the old gentleman growled,
"She doesnae. She was a wee lassie—maybe six or seven at most—when it
happened."

"Old enough to have some recollection, then," she persisted
stubbornly. "I can remember things that happened when I was six—can not
you?"

"I've my work cut oot to recall what happened yesterday," he
said with a grin and, becoming very English again, added, "You'll do
well to let the lady alone now, Yolande. She has her hands full and her
poor mind is obviously hovering on the brink. Besides, I'll own I'm
becoming a touch concerned for our own missing young lady."

"Oh, my goodness! How could I have forgotten Josie!"

"Hmmmn," said the General. "I wonder, indeed! Come, m'dear.
We'll send the grooms out seeking her, can we find any. The place was
empty as a drum when I looked in a wee bit ago. The rascals were up to
no good, I'll be bound. They'd best be about their business now, or
there'll be much explaining to be done!"

When they reached the stables, however, it was to find them
far from deserted, grooms and stablehands milling about, and an air of
exultation very apparent.

"Here comes the guv'nor!" the head groom proclaimed, as the
General and Yolande crossed the yard. "All's bowman, sir! We found her."

"Oh, thank heaven!" gasped Yolande, not until that moment
realizing just how worried she had been.

"That saucy rascal!" the General exclaimed. "Good work! Who
found her?"

"It was Graham, sir. He was fair beside himself! Thought he
should've kept a closer eye on her."

The General nodded. "Commendable. Where was she?"

"Halfway to Tarbolton, by what I gather."

"Tarbolton! The devil you say! What did she want up there?"

The groom shrugged. "Who knows what goes on in their minds,
sir? Such as they have!"

"Oh, come now, Laing!" Yolande protested. "Females are not
completely blockheaded, you know!"

"I'll not deny that, miss," he allowed with a chuckle. "Though
she was blockheaded enough to be frisking about in the stream that runs
alongside Mr. Willoughby's east field."

"Good heavens! Whatever possessed her? The wind is quite chill
today, and this is no weather for a swim. Oh, I do hope she has not
taken a chill."

"Tush, child," the General said reassuringly. "Do I know
anything of the matter, she's being thoroughly pampered and cossetted.
And after all, we must not forget her background. I doubt she was even
slightly remorseful, eh Laing?"

The groom laughed. "Not the slightest, sir."

"A sound night's sleep, snug under her blankets, and she'll be
good as new. She should be spanked, but I'll own she's lots of spirit.
Strong as a horse, too, don't you agree, Laing?"

Yolande, who had always thought Laing to be a sensible man,
began to wonder if she had rated him too high, for at this he gave
another shout of laughter, so hearty that the General stared at him in
surprise

"That's a good one, sir! And glad I am that you're not
angered. It's a bit of luck it was Graham who came up with her.Eyes
like a hawk has Graham, else he'd never have noticed her nose sticking
through the branches."

The General's jaw dropped in a most undignified fashion. "Her…
nose?" he echoed faintly.

"Sticking… through the branches… ?" gasped Yolande.

"Aye, miss. Chewing them leaves like she'd not ate for a week,
Graham said, or—"

Having recovered itself, General Drummond's jaw began to chomp
alarmingly. "Are ye gone puir daft, mon?" he exploded. "What a'God's
name are ye babbling?"

Yolande asked urgently, "Of whom are you speaking, Laing?"

Paling, the groom faltered, "Why—why, Molly-My-Lass, of
course, miss. Wasn't that—"

"
Molly… My… Lass
!" The General's lung
power made Yolande jump. "Why, you bacon-brained gapeseed! You let my
prize mare wander off and stand about in a cold stream all day?
Dammitall! That's what I get for allowing a Londoner at my cattle! Of
all the—" He glanced, fuming, at Yolande, and closed his lips, his
whiskers continuing to vibrate like reeds in a high wind.

Her hopes dashed. Yolande seized her chance and explained, "We
were speaking of Miss Josie. She seems to have wandered off, also. Is
Molly all right?"

"Quite all right, miss." And with a cautious look at the fiery
old gentleman, Laing ventured, "As the General said, we've pampered her
and she's warm and—"

"I was not speaking of a
horse
, blast
your impudence!" howled Drummond. "If you but had the brains you were
born with—"

"Sir!" Yolande cried, tugging at his sleeve urgently. "Sir! We
must do as you suggested and send the grooms out to search! It is
starting to rain, and if Josie is trying to reach Devenish at the
castle, the poor child will still be walking after dark."

"That curst boy!" the General raged, quite willing to turn his
anger from Laing, who really was an excellent head groom. "He should
never have brought the lassie here in the first place. A fine bog we'll
be in, does she come to grief! Well, talking pays no toll. Turn oot the
men, Laing, and set 'em tae the west road. But—do
you
stay with the mare!"

Laing knuckled his brow respectfully. "I'll set the men out,
right enough, sir. But I don't think Miss Josie took the west road. Two
of the stablehands rode that way while we were looking for Molly. They
went clear to the Pass, and would certainly have seen the little girl."

"Unless she did not want to be seen," argued Yolande. "If she
was running away again. She adores Dev, you know, Grandpapa."

"Lord knows why," he grunted. "You're right, though. Saddle up
Crusher for me, Laing. Yolande, I'll change my clothes and be off.
Never worry, lass. We'll find her."

"I'm going with you. Please, Grandpapa! I feel responsible. I
could not bear to just sit here and wait."

He frowned, but in the end, of course, was won over, and they
hurried to the house together. Ten minutes later, having changed into
her habit in record time, Yolande hurried downstairs, train over one
arm, a dashing hat set upon her curls, and riding whip and gloves in
her hand.

Her aunts walked into the Great Hall as she descended, and
Mrs. Fraser said with one of her rare smiles, "What a bonnie green that
is! You look very fetching, Yolande. May one ask whither ye're bound at
this hour?"

"I wish I knew, ma'am. Grandpapa has asked Laing to send all
the men out to look for Josie. She's wandered off somewhere, the
tiresome child."

Snatching up Socrates and thus foiling his attempt to nip her
sister-in-law's ankle, Mrs. Drummond murmured that he was a very
naughty doggie today, then expostulated, "You never mean to ride
with
them? Yolande, your wits are gone begging! You must let the gentlemen
handle such things!"

"I would, did I not feel so wretchedly responsible. I might
have known she would try to find Devenish."

"Aye." Mrs. Fraser nodded. 'The poor wee mite idolizes the
lad." She looked at her niece enigmatically. "Children and dogs. He
canna be all bad."

"Bad!" flared Yolande, her cheeks flushing. "Dev is a very
fine young man! He is not at all bad!"

"Well, you love him, of course. Your pardon, dear, I keep
forgetting. I had in fact meant to ask you for the date you've
selected."

The voice was mild, but Yolande's eyes fell before her aunt's
steady gaze and, concentrating on adjusting her gloves, she answered,
"We have not quite decided on the exact date, but mean to set it and
make the formal announcement as soon as Dev returns." She looked up and
said gratefully, "Oh, there you are, Grandpapa. Have the men started
yet?"

"They wait for us to join them. Never fret so, girl! We'll
likely find her long before she reaches the castle." His whiskers
twitched. "I hope we do, for I've nae wish tae encounter that Canadian
mushroom!"

Aware that her Aunt Caroline's covertly amused gaze was upon
her, Yolande did not utter the indignant retort that trembled on her
tongue, saying instead that she did not see how Josie could possibly
have reached the castle by this time, even had she left at ten o'clock.

Mrs. Drummond caressed Socrates fondly, and murmured, "Well,
she did not. It was well after noon, as I recall."

With his hand on the doorknob, the General stiffened, glared
at the panelled door, assumed a smile that might well have caused the
paint to blister, and turned to his daughter-in-law. "You
saw
the child leave, Arabella?"

"I suppose that is what she was doing. At the time, I merely
thought she was going for a little ride."

"How grand in ye tae inform us of it the noo," said Mrs.
Fraser ironically.

"Ride—ye said?" Sir Andrew snapped. "Upon what, ma'am?"

"That great big animal. Jolly Nelly—or whatever it is called."

"Molly-My-Lass?" said Yolande. "Oh, Aunt! If only you had told
us!"

"But, I
am
telling you, my love! And I
cannot think why you should go to the castle, for she never meant to go
there, unless perhaps she experienced some difficulty in guiding that
monster, which I own she did not seem to, as the horse moved off in
quite a docile fashion."

His brows beetling, the General snarled, "Which
way
did the wee girl go?"

"I am striving to tell you that, sir. It was
not
in the direction of Castle Tyndale, for to reach there one would have
to take the estate road to the west, I do believe, and—Sir Andrew! Are
you feeling quite the thing? Your face is alarmingly red, and—"

"Fer losh sakes, woman!" cried Mrs. Fraser. "Put it in tae
simple English if ye please! If Josie Storm dinna take the western
road, which way
did
she go?"

"She took the north road, my dear Caroline. As if she meant to
go north, do you see? Though
why
, or whom she
meant to visit, is more than I could say!"

"Och-unnnh!" snorted Drummond. "At last the gem is
extrrrracted! Come lassie, we must come up with the wee girl before
dusk!"

With Yolande hurrying beside him, he stalked to the hall and
the stableyard, from whence he could soon be heard roaring orders to
Mr. Laing.

"Good gracious," murmured Mrs. Drummond, nervously. "How you
ever stand it here, Caroline, is quite beyond me! My father-in-law's
temperament would drive me distracted!"

" 'Tis a mutual emotion," Mrs. Fraser informed her dourly.

Arabella smiled. It was nice, thought she, that for once they
were in accord.

The small store room in the second basement was musty, icy
cold, and pitch-black. From the moment they had been thrust down the
short flight of steps and the great door slammed and barred upon them,
the cousins had explored in frantic search of a way out, or something
with which to defend themselves when the door was opened. Neither
effort met with success. Now, shivering and defeated, they sat against
the wooden door, shoulder to shoulder, in an attempt to keep warm.

"They could at least," Devenish grumbled, "have left us a
lantern."

"Probably thought we'd burn the door down," said Tyndale, and
the faint note of strain in his cousin's voice having been noted,
asked, "That leg bothering you?"