Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
B enjamin sat with a book leisurely propped up in his hands, but he didn’t read a word. When the gentlemen had joined the ladies in the drawing room, he’d entered to find only part of the women present. Lady Abernathy said Margaret and her daughter had stepped out for a minute, but that had been some time ago, and they’d still yet to return.
He’d taken this seat and picked up a nearby book in the hopes of distracting himself until Margaret rejoined them, but the endeavor had proved fruitless. His mind repeatedly returned to Margaret. Somehow, she’d woven herself into his every thought. He couldn’t help but smile at the way her laughter lingered in his mind, her spirited nature igniting emotions he’d thought he would never feel.
Each shared moment—the stories, the teasing—had forged a bond both exhilarating and terrifying.
The truth weighed heavily on him: he was in love with Lady Margaret.
The truth stirred a warmth inside, yet doubt crept in like a shadow. How could he be the man she deserved when he felt so damaged? His lungs served as a constant reminder of his frustrating fragility.
The thought of a life filled with laughter and tenderness with Margaret was intoxicating, but fear of disappointing her loomed just as large.
Time passed on, and Margaret didn’t return with Lady Emily. The lateness weighed on Benjamin. Ever since his jump into the icy lake, his lungs had been far worse. Not only had his coughing fits grown more frequent and more painful, but his lungs ached all the time now.
Sleep, he knew from experience, was the best medicine now.
Still, he had hoped to at least speak with Margaret some before retiring.
But as the clock chimed eleven, his chest tightened, and he felt the beginnings of another attack.
Benjamin kept the coughing soft as he stood and quickly left the room. Not until he was out and far enough down the corridor so as not to be heard, did he allow himself to give in fully to the need to clear his lungs.
The attack lasted longer than usual and the pain, sharp and intense, radiated throughout his chest.
At length, it subsided, and Benjamin stood near the base of the stairs, inhaling slowly and steadily.
He would have to wait and speak with Margaret tomorrow. He was clearly in no position to stay up any later.
The knowledge rankled.
He was barely thirty-seven, and he was retiring early as though he were an octogenarian.
Grumbling, Benjamin made his way up the stairs and into his chambers. He rang for Haverford and then proceeded to remove his jacket and waistcoat.
When Haverford hadn’t arrived after a few minutes, Benjamin bent down to pull off his boots himself. But the angle was all wrong for his lungs, and he immediately started coughing once more.
This was lunacy. He couldn’t even undress.
Benjamin rang for Haverford once more. The sooner his valet arrived and helped him into bed, the better. He wanted to be done with tonight. Come tomorrow morning, he could talk with Margaret again, and she would calm him.
For a moment, Benjamin let his gaze stray to the low fire in the hearth. Though his eyes rested on the flames, he barely saw them. His mind, instead, wandered to the feel of Margaret’s hand against his jaw. The way she’d whispered that she felt safe when he was around.
Benjamin’s chest burned, but this time it wasn’t a coughing fit, and the heat brought no pain, but comfort.
For all her spunk and tenacity, Margaret always managed to bring him comfort as well. She was a spirited mixture of adventure and beauty, but she was also soft and caring. Somehow, she reached that part of him that still had not been willing to stop fighting, even after having been ordered into retirement. She reached it—and helped him to let go and find peace.
Benjamin smiled to himself. He never would have guessed, when he’d first agreed to watch after Lord Vaughn’s sister, that he would find himself falling so completely for her.
Tomorrow morning could not come soon enough.
And where the blazes was his valet?
Benjamin stood and stomped back over to the ropes hanging along the wall. He tugged hard and then turned, placing hands on hips.
Still no Haverford.
That was not like the man. He may be prone to too much frivolous talk, but he was always prompt.
Benjamin rubbed a hand over his jaw. Something was wrong. Perhaps there had been an accident in the kitchen that was occupying the manservant’s attention and time.
Footfalls sounded in the corridor. Benjamin opened his bedchamber door and walked out. A maid was there, seeing to a candle in one of the wall sconces.
“Miss,” Benjamin called to her, “is everything all right?”
She blinked, looking slightly surprised at being addressed, and quickly gave Benjamin a small curtsy. “Yes, sir,” she said, her accent heavy. “Only zis candlestick vas burning low, und I thought to replace it before it gave out completely.”
“Never mind the candlestick,” Benjamin said, his frustration returning quickly. “I have called for my valet three times now. But he hasn’t come. Has anything happened below stairs?”
The maid’s eyes widened slightly, and then she shook her head. “No. Nothing that I have heard.”
Benjamin scowled. This was completely unlike Haverford.
Just then, Lord and Lady Abernathy appeared at the head of the corridor and made their way quickly down toward Benjamin. Before reaching him, however, Lady Abernathy disappeared into Margaret’s room. Were the two ladies still conversing together? Whatever had drawn Lady Emily away from their gathering early that night, be it illness or emotional turmoil, Benjamin sincerely hoped the young woman was feeling better now. Moreover, he hoped she wouldn’t keep Margaret up too late. Margaret was still recovering and needed her sleep.
“Turned in early, have you?” Lord Abernathy asked, continuing farther down the corridor after his wife had left his side. “I don’t blame you. We may be a merry party, but after nearly five months, there are times when our society feels rather unvaried.” He gave a small chuckle.
Before Benjamin could respond, however, Margaret’s bedchamber door flew open, and Lady Abernathy hurried out once more.
“She’s not here either,” the woman said, her tone pitched. “Oh, Abernathy, where could she be?”
Lord Abernathy’s brow dropped low. “Surely she and Lady Margaret are off somewhere having a little tête-à-tête where they won’t be disturbed.”
But Lady Abernathy would not be consoled. “I have looked everywhere . They are nowhere to be found.”
Lord Abernathy cursed under his breath. “First the brooch, and now this.”
Benjamin’s heart sank. What were the chances that the brooch disappearing and now two ladies going missing as well had nothing to do with one another?
His guess? Not very high.
“My valet is missing as well,” Benjamin said.
Lord Abernathy grunted. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything, Rockwell.”
Benjamin couldn’t see how all the pieces fit together either, but in his gut, he knew they all somehow belonged to the same puzzle.
He hurried back toward the maid, who was just finishing up with a second low-burning candle. “Gather the household staff,” he ordered. “Wake anyone up who’s already sleeping. The whole house must be searched for Lady Margaret, Lady Emily, and Mr. Haverford. The minute any one of them is seen, report it to me immediately.”
The maid nodded furiously and then took off running down the corridor.
“Years in His Majesty’s service has made you paranoid, my friend,” Lord Abernathy said.
“Perhaps,” Benjamin replied. But he adoubted it. Rather, years in service had taught him never to assume all was well when there was reason to question. Still, after one glance at Lady Abernathy’s pale face, Benjamin chose to keep his darkest worries to himself.
The young men arrived not two minutes later, having caught wind that something was amiss. They decided to split up and search the house along with the staff. Ingram and Mr. Miles Thrup took the east wing while Benjamin and Mr. Oliver Thrup took the west wing. They left Lord Abernathy alone with his wife and her misgivings.
A little over fifteen minutes later, when the butler of Mondstein Herrenhaus hurried down the corridor, none of them had found either young lady or Mr. Haverford.
“I do not understand it, Your Grace,” the butler said to Lord Abernathy as he bowed deeply. “Mr. Rockwell’s valet is nowhere to be found.”
Benjamin, who’d just been stepping out of Mr. Miles Thrup’s room, hurried over. He hadn’t expected to find anything in either of the twins’ rooms, but his military training had taught him that when something was important, you searched everywhere , regardless of the probability.
“What of Lady Margaret? Lady Emily?” Benjamin asked the butler.
The old man only shook his head.
“Oh, my dear girl,” Lady Abernathy whispered. She looked nigh on ready to collapse.
Lord Abernathy, who didn’t appear as flippant as he’d been moments ago, called for his wife’s lady’s maid, and when the woman came, he had her take Lady Abernathy to her chamber and insisted that she lie down.
As his wife disappeared down the dark corridor, Lord Abernathy turned back to the three young men, who were hovering around him uncertainly.
“Well,” he barked, “don’t just stand there. Look again.”
The three young men hurried off, but Benjamin waited.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” he said when they were alone. “But I must ask.”
“What is it?” Lord Abernathy snapped.
“It is my understanding that Ingram has accrued substantial debts while on this tour. Is it possible that he owes someone of so unsavory a character as to take his sister to force him to repay?”
Lord Abernathy stared, confusion twisting his features. “What the blazes are you talking about?”
“I know it is a family matter,” Benjamin said, “and I would not have said anything if Lady Emily and Margaret had not gone missing. But I overheard you say you took the brooch to pay off Ingram’s debts. Whom does he owe? Are you certain they would not—”
“What debts?” Lord Abernathy interrupted. “Rockwell, I have always thought you a reasonable man. Despite what you think you know, Ingram has no outstanding debts.”
“If that wasn’t you I heard…”
A memory surfaced.
Haverford changing his voice to sound exactly like their driver and then Mr. Stein. If he could mimic those men, surely he could mimic Lord Abernathy.
Then it wasn’t the duke he and Margaret had heard that night after all.
It had been Haverford.
It had all been a show.
The valet must have seen him and Margaret go into Ingram’s room. He’d wanted them to believe it was the duke who’d taken the brooch all along.
And if he wanted them to think it was the duke, that could only mean one thing.
Haverford was responsible for the brooch’s disappearance. He couldn’t have done it alone—Haverford hadn’t stepped foot in the music room all evening—but he was involved all the same. And now, not only was he missing, but so were Lady Emily and Lady Margaret.
Benjamin’s heart went cold.
“We have to get to the stables,” Benjamin said, hurrying back into his room.
Lord Abernathy sprinted after him. “Whatever for?”
“Haverford has the brooch. If he also has Margaret, then he knows he can’t hide any longer. He’ll be wanting to run.” He opened the doors to the large armoire and pulled out the small case he always traveled with.
He flung it open…but it was empty inside.
Haverford not only had Ladies Margaret and Emily, but he also had Benjamin’s gun.