Her Ladyship's Companion Page 13

  “He’s been missing since early this morning?” Giles said in a cold, oddly precise voice.

  “Since before I was up. He’s done it before, but he always comes back for lunch. Oh, please, Master Giles, I don’t like to keep boys too close. They need to run a little wild. I’ve never kept my boys caged up too tight. You remember that.”

  “I do indeed.” Giles’s face softened a little as he looked at the old woman.

  “You don’t suppose he’s been struck by lightning, do you?” she cried suddenly.

  “Lightning? No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous, Nanny. He’s probably wandered over into the east wing and fallen asleep on one of the guest beds over a book. Or else he’s out in the stables, snug and dry, learning to spit through his missing tooth with one of Hobson’s rascal crew. I’ll have him back to you in no time.”

  Lady Dorothy rang the bell for Betty. Giles brushed past her as he left. “Excuse me, Aunt. I’m going to settle this thing.”

  “Would you like me to bring up the tea things?” Betty asked genially as she came in. The servants regarded the rain rather in the nature of a treat since most of their usual activities ceased. One of the housemaids was having hysterics in the comfort of the kitchen from terror of the lightning, adding to the holiday atmosphere belowstairs. “I’ll bring you some of those nice seed cakes.”

  “Wait.” Melissa stopped her. “There’s some trouble with Robbie. He’s gone off someplace. Are you sure he hasn’t been down to the kitchen at all? Nanny’s dreadfully upset.”

  “So I see.” Betty looked dubiously at Nanny Babcock. “No, he’s been nowhere about. I’d have sent him right about his business if he were underfoot today, I’ll tell you that.”

  “Take Susan and Becky and search the rooms in the east wing,” Lady Dorothy ordered concisely. “And tell Bedford to wait on me here.”

  “I worry about Robbie,” Nanny Babcock confided to Melissa with the air of one imparting a closely guarded secret, “though sure enough he can take care of himself. But I’m like a hen with one chick. I had him from the month, that I did, and his father before him, poor man.

  He was a seven months’ child, Robbie was. Nothing ready for him. And so tiny. I could hold him in my hand. Such a delicate child.”

  She was about to go into tedious detail of how delicate that redheaded cyclone of nervous energy still was. Melissa said quickly, “He’s dreadfully thoughtless to stay away this long. But he’s only a boy. He probably lost track of time.”

  “Time, yes.” Then Nanny surprised her with a markedly shrewd statement. “But I’ve never known him to lose track of three meals in a row. If I thought he’d been down in the kitchen, that’s different. They’d be glad enough to feed him down there. Spoiling his appetite likely as not with those rich foods. And the language he picks up there! Anyone would think he was one of these Cornish savages when he comes back talking like that.”

  “Would he have gone out, do you think?” Melissa prompted.

  “It was fine this morning when he left. Just cloudy a bit. And the wind. I think maybe he’s gone out riding. That Hobson will do anything for him, even put him up on one of those great dirty horses of his. He’s supposed to stay on his little pony. I don’t mind that. She’s old, his pony. Has more sense than Robbie does. But if he was on a horse, it could have bolted with him.”

  “I’m sure Hobson would have more sense than that.”

  “I hope so.” Nanny grew alarmed again. “But there’s been all this rain and thunder, and he hasn’t come back. And I had Anna on my hands, messing about in the schoolroom. She’s always got something spiteful to say. I’m surprised her spit doesn’t poison her. I wish I’d had the rearing of the girl. I’d have cured that nasty tongue of hers. As if I could follow Robbie around day and night or keep him under lock and key.”

  “Of course not,” Melissa said soothingly.

  Nanny twisted her hands together in her apron. “You don’t think anything could have happened to him? He might have got himself shut up into a closet somewhere or in one of those empty attics. They do say that the floors over in the east wing have got the dry rot something disgraceful. Mr. Tarsin keeps promising to have the men in to fix them, though not before the harvest season.” She began to weep.

  “Don’t be foolish, Nanny,” Lady Dorothy snapped. “This house is simply crawling with servants. We’d hear him if he called out.”

  That astringent voice did what all Melissa’s soothing had failed to accomplish. Nanny Babcock pulled herself together and said in a more reasonable manner, “Then where shall we look for him, my lady?”

  “We may assume the boy hasn’t hidden himself to worry us all with some asinine prank,” the dowager announced.

  “Oh, no. Robbie would never do that.” Melissa broke in involuntarily. Lady Dorothy, far from being offended, just nodded.

  “Then he’ll be found either in the stables in a short time or in one of the farmhouses later on this evening. We all shall look very silly when he crawls out from under a haystack and asks us what all the fuss is about.”

  Her mordant announcements worked wonders. Melissa immediately felt that her fears were stupid after all.

  “Nanny, get back upstairs and try not to worry anymore.” Lady Dorothy’s hands might be thin and streaked with pale blue veins, trembling a little when they moved, but they were still extremely capable. She had Nanny out of her chair and out of the room in two minutes flat. “I’ll send him to you the moment we find him.”

  Melissa felt much better. Of course. Robbie had gone out to one of the tenant farms. How would a boy of seven be expected to predict that a storm would blow up so suddenly? He was even now tucked safe under the eaves of one of those little cottages by the road, surfeited to sickness on pastry and apple cider, never dreaming that his absence would raise the least alarm.

  Bedford came in. In the gray light from the window his face had a curiously ashen hue.

  “So there you are,” Lady Dorothy said unemotionally. “Have you finished searching the stables?”

  “Mr. Giles and Mr. Pangborn are doing that now,” the butler said quietly. He added, “Hobson hasn’t seen Master Robbie all day.”

  “His pony?”

  “In his stall.”

  “And none of the tenants has sent word he’s at their house?”

  “No, my lady.”

  “They would, you know.”

  “Yes, my lady. At once.”

  “Missing since very early, perhaps as early as five or six in the morning.”

  “I’ve sent messengers to the nearer houses, Crawley’s, Penwaller, Tregarth’s. We may hear something. Master Robbie might have been there and left for home, gotten caught by the storm, be under cover somewhere. They’ll be sending men.”

  Melissa felt fear slither about in the pit of her stomach.

  “High tide was at one o’clock,” Lady Dorothy said. There was no particular emotion in her voice. The clock on the mantel ticked loudly. The tide was low when the boy went out early in the morning. It came in full force a few hours later.

  “Spring tides, my lady,” Bedford commented. The highest tides of the month. Could a seven-year-old be expected to remember that many of the caves that were safe a week ago would be deadly now?

  “And the storm, too,” Lady Dorothy said elliptically. The wind from the sea would be lashing the waves even higher. The rocks on the path at the cliff top would be slippery with rain and salt spray. Mud slides would cut off the paths upward.

  “We’ll have light for two hours yet,” Bedford said. The gloom was already thickening outside the parlor window. The clouds were robbing them of hours of daylight.

  “Have the maids go through the house thoroughly,” Lady Dorothy ordered. “The cellars, the attics, the old wing. Take some of the dogs; they’ll be no good outside.” Rain would have destroyed any trace of the boy’s tracks long since. “Fix the lanterns. And borrow some from that tavern in Wheatcross. In a few hours it’ll be low tide
again.” When the water retreated from the sea caves, what could they expect to find? “See that there’s food for the men laid out in the kitchen and strong tea. Miss Rivenwood and I will have dinner on a tray here. The others will eat in their rooms. Don’t let any of those boys from the stables go down on the cliffs. We don’t want any accidents.”

  “Very well, my lady.” Bedford bowed and left the room. Melissa heard swift footsteps in the hall, quite unlike Bedford’s usual dignified stroll.

  Lady Dorothy seated herself near the fire. From one of the ever-present sewing baskets she selected a piece of embroidery. “Please bring that work candle closer to me, Melissa,” she said. “I’m having trouble seeing my work.”

  Melissa complied. She stood watching the old woman sew. She said, “He wouldn’t have gone down to the cliffs this morning, not alone.” Lady Dorothy gave no sign she’d heard. “The sea was whipped up by that storm even early this morning. Everything must have been wet and cold already.” Melissa stopped. When had a little water ever stopped Robbie? The rocks would have been wet all right. Wet enough to make Robbie slip and fall, perhaps hurt himself so badly he couldn’t climb up above the approaching tide.

  “Sit down, Melissa. I need a copy of the linen list. It’s over there on the little writing desk.” Lady Dorothy lifted kind, wise, bleak eyes.

  Melissa went woodenly and picked up the list. She sat down at the table. She began to copy neatly in a row: Upstairs, south, front, red; seven monogrammed, linen, perfect; three monogrammed, linen, patched. Upstairs, south, middle, blue; three monogrammed, linen, perfect.

  In the parlor there was only the sound of the rain, the clock ticking, and the steady scratch of a quill pen on paper.

  Chapter 14

  There are great cliffs, sometimes fifty feet high or more. Robbie goes to play there with the stableboys, jumping across the rocks like a cricket. Giles Tarsin says he won’t have the boy frightened of scenery and encourages it.

  Excerpt from the letter of Melissa Rivenwood to Cecilia Luffington, June 30, 1818

  Darkness fell all too swiftly. The riders returned from the neighboring farms. There was no longer any comfortable explanation for Robbie’s absence. Unable to stay still, Melissa prowled the corridors of Vinton. She ended in the long gallery at the top of the house. Outside, in the darkness, in the distance, she could see the lanterns of the searchers strung along the cliffside like jewels on a string. They were still combing the caves and crags in the face of the rising tide, giving up the rocks foot by reluctant foot to the sea again, with Robbie still unfound. She could hear the dogs barking excitedly in their kennels. The house was very silent.

  Melissa tortured herself endlessly with guilt. Robbie had warned her that his life was in danger. How long ago was it? Twenty hours? Thirty? But she’d been concerned with her own stupid problems. She’d even planned to desert him altogether. How could she have let herself be lulled into ignoring him? Why hadn’t she followed her own instincts instead of Giles’s damnably logical arguments? It was all her fault. If anything had happened to Robbie, she’d live with the guilt of it every day for the rest of her life.

  Someone came into the long gallery. She heard the door open. She waited, expecting to see one of the maids still engaged in the fruitless search of the house. In the dim circle of light thrown by her candle she recognized Jamie, Robbie’s friend from the stables. He must be terribly worried, Melissa thought. It’s worse when you’re young.

  “Come over with me, Jamie,” she said softly. “You can watch the search from up here. We’ll be the first ones to see when they find him.” He was wet to the skin. He’d been out earlier.

  “Miss,” the boy said in a low voice, “I know where he is.”

  Melissa dropped down on her knees beside him and grabbed him hard. “What do you mean?” she demanded, frowning horribly at him. “Where do you think he is? Someplace we haven’t looked yet?”

  “He’s in the woods, miss. Not down the cliffs. He’s on the island.” He meant the lake island with the ruined summer house.

  “What makes you say that? They searched there. I saw the lights.”

  “No, mum.” Jamie was positive. “They only looked along the shore. I heard one o’ the men say so. The bridge is fallen all to bits, and they thought they couldn’t get a man across it. They know we’re not allowed to go out there, so they didn’t even bother to look on the island.” Jamie’s voice broke. Lines of tears on his cheeks glistened in the candlelight. “We go there all the time, frog catching. Nobody knows. Robbie’s over there, but I can’t get anybody to look. They sent me back in.”

  “You actually go across that bridge?” Melissa asked incredulously. She’d seen the tumbled-down sixty-foot span. It was hard to believe it would hold even a child’s weight.

  “It’s safe enough. There’re a few boards missing, that’s all.”

  “But why should he be out there? He could be anywhere.”

  “I know he is. I’ve been thinking about it all night. We were going to get worms, you see. The trout in the brook at Penwaller’s place always bite when it’s raining. Just when the wash begins, they take worms if you time it right. Tomorrow would be just about right. So we needed the worms, and we always get them on the island because old Barney can’t catch us digging up the gardens if we go over there.” Jamie took a deep breath to steady himself and plunged on. “Then I got stuck inside working for Mrs. Ballantyne. Robbie must have gone over to the island today by himself early, so we could get started tomorrow before anybody caught us.”

  It sounded a little farfetched. Melissa’s heart sank again. But anything was worth trying at this point. “I’ll send Jem or Barney out to tell Mr. Tarsin about this. He’ll make certain the men go right over to the island and search it.” It was bitter disappointment. For a minute she’d thought he had something.

  “I tried to tell him already!” the boy cried out passionately. “That’s when he sent me away. He just said they’d already looked in the woods. He ordered me back to the house and told me to stay out of the way. But I’m sure they didn’t look, no matter what he said. Tom said they didn’t go out on the bridge at all. I just know Robbie’s over there.”

  “Jamie, if Mr. Tarsin said they’ve checked the island, then they must have,” Melissa said gently. He was overwrought and grasping at straws. Who could blame him?

  “Haven’t,” Jamie insisted. “They would have found him.”

  “Jamie,” Melissa coaxed, “there’s no real reason to believe that Robbie went there. Don’t you see, he might have gone down to catch something in one of the tide pools instead?”

  “No,” Jamie maintained stubbornly. “If he said we were going to use worms, then we use worms. We were going river fishing. Sea bait doesn’t work in sweet water.” That was an immutable law of nature to him, as sure as sunrise. “So he had to get worms.”

  “If you’re that certain, I’ll go down and see what I can find out about this. If no one’s been actually over to the island itself, we’ll have to send someone. I’ll talk to—”

  “I thought you’d be willing to listen to me,” Jamie said bitterly, clenching his fists. “I thought you’d come with me. Robbie said he trusted you.” It was a biting condemnation.

  “You’re not going out there alone, are you? After they told you to stay inside?” She grabbed him more firmly by the shirt. Melissa was at her wits’ end. Here was something else to worry about. They were going to lose both boys if Jamie went dashing about in the dark on this fool’s errand.

  “Yes, I am. I know he’s there.” Jamie was waiting only until she released her grip to be off. His stolid, unimaginative face was set rock-hard. She confronted not one small boy but the descendant of a hundred generations of wild Cornishmen. She wouldn’t budge him from his purpose a single inch. And where was she going to find his father on a night like this?

  Melissa had seen that footbridge to the island by day. It was certainly not fit for a child to cross, alone, by night. “Look
here,” she offered. “I’ll go out and find Giles myself and tell him to send a man over to the island. I won’t rest until I see that he actually does it. Will that satisfy you?”

  “No!” he shouted back at her. “He’d just say it’d already been searched. That’s what he said to me. He’s the master here. If you go to him and he orders you back in the house, you have to go. So I’m going myself, now. Robbie’s there, I know it.”

  “You can’t go.”

  “I can. You can’t stop me!” Jamie yelled angrily. “Robbie said to go to you if there was trouble. It looks like he was wrong.”

  “You will do as I tell you,” Melissa said, playing the schoolteacher heavily.

  “No!” Jamie yelled again. He looked absurdly like Hobson, his father, dressing down one of the yard boys. “I’m going to find Robbie. I’m sorry I ever told you anything at all.”

  Melissa held him with a resolute grip. She gazed down into his face. He was utterly determined and probably completely wrong. But even if Giles ordered him to bed, it would only mean he’d make the trip alone. She couldn’t post a guard over him. Everyone had more important work to do tonight than restrain one young idiot.

  “Very well,” she conceded. “I’ll go to the shoreline myself and call. That way we’ll see if he’s on the island. If I do that, will you promise to stay here and not go out again tonight? If I can’t find anything, I’ll get somebody, somehow, across that bridge and out to the island.”

  “The shore’s no good. They’ve been there. He might be hurt. He might not be able to answer. He might even be ...”

  Melissa didn’t have to finish the sentence for him. She pulled the boy close to her and hugged him. “All right. All right. You win. I’ll go out to the blasted island personally.” At that he broke down and dissolved into gusty sobs.

  Melissa stroked his hair. She couldn’t stand to see him hurt so. “I’ll look all around to make sure he isn’t there. You have my word on it.” She stood up. “I’ll find one of the men to come along with me.”