The silence that followed was absolute. Then, all at once, Valentine was on his feet. The chair clattered behind him. His heart had gone still, his mind a sudden white expanse of panic.
“Sound the bells,” he said tightly. “Get the entire staff. Get me Hawkins. I want everyone searching for her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Abigail is missing. I came here as fast as I could.”
Cecilia’s fingers stilled where they had been gently brushing her nephew’s hair. The toy rattle slipped from her grasp and landed on the rug with a soft clatter. Her head turned sharply, eyes narrowing in disbelief as she faced Norman, who stood breathless at the threshold of the drawing room.
“I beg your pardon?” she said slowly, as though the words would sound different if she gave them time to settle.
“Valentine can’t find her. The staff have searched the entire estate.” His voice was tight, urgent. “She is not there. They think…well, we think she may have gone looking for you on foot. That’s the only explanation.”
“Are you – What did –” Cecilia could barely make a sentence.
“She vanished from the house sometime this morning. No one saw her leave–”
“What do you mean no one saw her?” Cecilia’s voice pitched high, her breath already coming too fast. “Who was watching her? Where was Miss Flaxman?”
Emma joined them where they stood. “Cecilia –”
“She’s six, Norman,” Cecilia continued, panting. “She cannot just disappear! There are footmen, there are maids, gardeners, how could no one see her go? There is no way she would have left to look for me.”
Norman opened his mouth, but she cut in, her voice rising, cracking. “Abigail won’t leave the estate alone; she’s scared of the path that leads to the gate. She won’t walk that path alone. She knows no other exit. So…”
She stopped. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling like she’d run a mile, but she forced herself to close her eyes. To think.Abigail wouldn’t go far, not beyond the walls. There was no way she could have left the estate without anyone seeing her.
Which meant...
“There’s a path,” she said suddenly, eyes snapping open. “From the garden. It leads to a lake. It’s hidden behind the lilac hedge. Did anyone check the lake, Norman?”
“The lake?” he echoed, blinking. “No, I don’t think that was on the map Valentine drew out. We split the staff to search the woods, the road, the village route....”
Cecilia whirled toward the doorway. “Then someone needs to check it now.She used to go there sometimes, when she was upset. She calls it her thinking place. There’s a little flat patch of grass by the reeds where she lies down and watches the clouds.”
“There’s another place,” Cecilia interrupted, “Near the east gate. Just before the bend in the orchard wall. There’s a staircase, and she hides under it sometimes, when she wants to be alone. No one would think to look there if they didn’t know.”
He paused, eyes narrowing. “That wasn’t marked either. Cecilia, Valentine was convinced that she had gone looking for you, so he left the search in the hands of the staff and went to your father’s house to look for you.”
“What?” Her voice was sharp. “Why?”
“According to him, she might try to find you. But I think he is terrified and he doesn’t know what to do, so he needs support. But it wasn’t until after he’d already gone that I remembered something.” Norman’s brows drew together. “The night of the dinner, you left with your sister, who is the Duchess of Montclaire, so I figured you’d be here. So, I sent a carriage after Valentine with a message for him to return to the estate. That I will bring you.”
Cecilia turned to Emma and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’ll see you later, I have to go now.”
Emma nodded immediately. “Take anything you need. Find her, all right?”
Cecilia gave a tight, breathless nod before making her way out of the room. The journey back to Ashbourne felt endless. The horses moved as fast as they could, but to Cecilia, every second ticked like an hour. The wheels clattered over the road, and the world beyond the windows blurred into gray. Her hands were clenched in her lap, white-knuckled and cold, as her mind raced through every possibility, each more dreadful than the last.
As soon as they turned into the long Ashbourne drive, Cecilia leaned out of the window, squinting through the fading daylight, as if she might somehow spot Abigail darting across the lawn. But there was only wind and shadow.
The carriage barely came to a stop before she was out.
“Go,” she told Norman, breath hitching. “Check under the stairs near the gate like I told you. I’m going to the lake.”
“I will,” he said at once, already moving. “I’ll let Valentine know too.”
The wind tangled her hair and stung her cheeks as she raced through the garden. She did not care. Her shoes sank into the damp earth as she hurried, heart pounding, whispering a prayerwith every step. The trees grew thicker as she neared the lake. The stillness was eerie, unnatural. She slowed only when the water came into view, her eyes scanning the banks, the reeds, the moss-covered stone where Abigail liked to sit and toss pebbles.
