Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Adam galloped along the top of the ridge, stopping to overlook the marsh below, while a chilly, brisk wind blasted him in the face.
A storm was brewing, there was no doubt about that, and he had to find Madeline.
He needed to explain his feelings for her before Diana had a chance to spoil everything.
And she would. He knew she would. Madeline was deeply loyal to her sister.
If she heard Diana’s story first, Madeline might never believe Adam’s love was pure.
She would never betray her heartbroken sister.
He kicked himself then, remembering the day he had brought Madeline with him to meet Lord Blackthorne’s ship.
With high hopes and grand intentions, he had carried the letter to Diana in his pocket, yet he had not disclosed a word of his plan to Madeline.
He’d foolishly believed that he had all the time in the world to woo her.
He had stalled, waiting for the right moment, and now he might have missed his opportunity altogether.
The open window had slammed shut on his fingers.
When he didn’t see Madeline or John down on the marsh, he wondered if John had taken her to see his new homestead. Deciding it was a likely place to find her, Adam turned his mount around and kicked in his heels, feeling the first cold drops of rain pelt his cheeks.
A short while later, he was thoroughly drenched and trotting into John Metcalf’s yard. John’s horse was tethered inside the open barn, his saddle removed. A light burned in the kitchen window.
Feeling a surge of protectiveness over Madeline, Adam dismounted and strode through the driving rain to the door.
How would he handle this, if Madeline was inside?
The impropriety of it was one thing; John would have to be dealt with.
But what about Adam’s more important objective—to pour out his heart to Madeline?
He certainly couldn’t do it here, and what if he was too late?
What if Madeline had fallen in love with John?
Steeling himself against any of those possibilities, Adam knocked on the door. It opened before him, and John stood there in stockinged feet, his waistcoat off, his shirt open at the neck.
Adam felt his gut twist with dread. Please, Madeline, be anywhere but here.
Clenching his jaw, he tried to keep his voice low and controlled. “Hello, John. I’m looking for Madeline.”
John held a half-eaten chunk of rye bread in his hand. He stopped chewing. “I left her at your house over an hour ago.”
An odd mixture of relief and frustration welled up inside Adam. He heaved with a shaky breath. “Did she mention anything about going anywhere? For a walk perhaps?”
John shook his head. “No. Why, is she missing?”
Adam recognized the concern in John’s voice, saw the flash of panic in his eyes, and knew John’s feelings for Madeline—like Adam’s own—were genuine.
Although there were times he would have liked to put John on a leaky boat back to Yorkshire, he couldn’t fault the young man for his affections.
He was young and unattached, hoping to begin a new life, and Madeline was indeed a treasure.
Adam descended the steps while the rain continued to pour, filling the brim of his hat and dripping from the front. “Don’t worry, I’ll find her.”
Not five seconds later, John was shrugging into his foul-weather slicker. “I’ll come with you.”
“There’s no need.”
To his credit, the young man persisted. “You need help, Mr. Coates. This storm’s getting worse, and if Madeline’s not at home, she might be stranded somewhere.”
Adam mounted his horse. “All right. I’ll meet you back at the house. We’ll see if she’s returned there. If not, we’ll search the hay barns on the marsh. She might have taken shelter in one of them.”
With a grateful nod to John, Adam steered his horse directly into the wind and rain, and galloped fast across the wet field.
* * *
Feeling the chill of the first few raindrops strike her skin, Madeline picked up her skirts and hurried into the yard. She entered the house just as the storm unleashed its fury and the skies opened up with a violent downpour.
Thankful to have outrun it, she removed her shawl and shook away the wetness. The house was quiet and she felt guilty for having been gone so long, but she had needed some time to herself.
After John had ridden away, she had turned to see Adam through the window, sitting across from Diana in his study, reaching for her hand.
It had shaken Madeline, for although she had consciously accepted their love, it was quite another thing to see them alone together, exchanging intimacies.
Gazing at each other. Touching. It was the very thing she had been dreading all this time.
A tremendous swell of tears had filled her eyes and she’d had to leave the yard. She walked up the hill to the towering old oak, sat on the swing by herself and wept until she couldn’t weep any longer. She had needed to weep, for she had bucked her tears for too long.
She realized that although she tried with all her might to resist and deny it, her desire for Adam had taken over her entire soul and she could no longer fight it.
The only way to save her heart was to leave.
She would have to make her own future somewhere other than under Adam’s roof.
Whether or not John Metcalf would be a part of that future, she did not know. That remained to be seen.
So there she stood, feeling a little stronger from the tears now out of her system—determined once again to move on with her life. This time, she would succeed.
She went to light a candle, for the storm had made the house seem almost as dark as night.
Madeline jumped when Penelope came bounding down the stairs. “It’s you!”
Charlie hurried down behind her. “Where is everyone?”
“What do you mean?” Madeline said.
“There is no one here except for Hilary,” Charlie replied in a tense, clipped voice.
“We returned from Jacob’s house, and saw Lady Thurston riding out of the yard toward the marsh on Penelope’s horse.
She didn’t stop when we called after her, and when we came inside, Hilary didn’t know where Lady Thurston had gone. Now it’s raining.”
Hilary hurried down the stairs as well. “Begging your pardon, Miss Oxley. We’re dreadfully worried.”
“Where is your father?” Madeline asked Charlie and Penelope.
The children shook their heads. “We don’t know.”
Madeline walked to the window and peered out at the rain streaming down in a forceful, almost horizontal torrent. Huge Scotch pines and maple trees in the yard swayed in the gusting winds, their branches flapping about. Raindrops noisily battered the glass panes.
Madeline thought of her sister out there, getting caught in this. It wasn’t dark yet, but it would be soon. Would she find shelter? Or would she become disoriented and lose her way?
“Diana doesn’t know her way around,” Madeline said. “She’s never been down on the marsh. Why would she ride off like that?”
“We don’t know,” Penelope replied.
“And you’ve looked everywhere for your father?”
“Yes. He’s not here. His horse is gone.”
Madeline tried to consider all the possibilities. “Perhaps Diana was following him somewhere.”
Hilary put her arm around Penelope. “No, miss. Mr. Coates left over an hour ago. He was looking for you.”
Madeline pressed her palm to her forehead. “For me? Why? I had just gone for a walk.”
They all shrugged.
“This is all my fault,” Madeline said. “I should have told someone where I was going.” She directed her gaze at Charlie. “Is your horse in the barn?”
“Yes.”
“Will you come and help me saddle him?”
“But you shouldn’t go out in this weather,” he said. “Father wouldn’t want you to.”
“Everyone else is out in it,” she replied.
“I might as well be, too. Besides, I think your father might have gone to look for me along the road where I usually go walking. If I can find him, I can tell him that Diana is out in this, too. Do not fret, I know my way around, and there’s still time before dark. ”
“All right.” Charlie went to fetch his coat. “But I’m coming with you.”
Madeline started upstairs to get her hooded cloak. “I was hoping you would say that.”
* * *
Splashing through puddles and squinting into the driving rain, Adam rode his horse into the yard. He quickly dismounted, tethered his mount and dashed inside.
The candles in the hall were lit. As soon as the door closed behind him, Penelope and Hilary appeared out of the back kitchen.
Penelope ran at him and leaped into his arms. “Papa!”
He knelt down to hug her. “I’m fine, darling. It’s just a little rain. Has Madeline returned?”
“Yes, Mr. Coates,” Hilary replied, “but there has been—”
“Thank goodness,” he said, overwhelmed by the relief he felt, hearing that she was safe. “Where is she? I must see her right away.”
He rose to his feet and continued to hold Penelope’s tiny hand. She did not seem ready to let it go just yet.
“Miss Oxley’s not here, sir. She returned not long ago, and discovered that Lady Thurston had gone riding alone, so she went with Charlie to find her.”
There was a long, tremulous silence as Adam’s brow furrowed with disbelief. “She has gone back out? Diana is out there, too?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But this storm is getting worse by the minute.”
“We know, sir. Miss Oxley assured us that she knew her way around, and Charlie went with her. Her ladyship, however, was without an escort.”
He went to the door to look out. “This is disastrous. How long ago did they leave?”
“Miss Oxley and Charlie left about ten minutes ago,” Hilary replied, “but my lady has been gone almost an hour.”
He gathered his coat collar tighter around his neck and opened the door. A gust of wind blew into the front hall. “You two stay here. I’ll head down to the marsh to search for them. John Metcalf is on his way. When he arrives, tell him what has happened and send him out to look, too.”