Chapter 2
Mantheria didn’t dare leave her house the next day for fear of Society’s whispering tongues or the possibility of seeing unwanted suitors who pretended to care about her grief.
She would not have remained in London after the funeral if Becca had not become engaged.
Their sisterly relationship was still tender, and Mantheria wanted to show her love and support by attending Becca’s engagement ball.
Which was only in six days. She could hide in her Mayfair town house until then.
She would go to the ball, but she wouldn’t dance. As a new widow, she couldn’t. But Mantheria could smile and converse with her family’s guests and show her support of the marriage.
After the ball, she and Andrew would travel to Avalon Palace, the main seat of the Duke of Glastonbury, for the majority of the summer months.
It would be wonderful to be in her own home.
Mantheria wouldn’t have to feel guilty for not being the wife Alexander wanted, nor for failing all four of her sisters: Frederica, Helen, Becca, and Elizabeth.
Mantheria could simply be herself.
And so could Andrew.
She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her son all morning, and it was time for luncheon.
Mantheria’s heart ached for him. He’d lost his father, and he badly needed friends of his own age.
Andrew played with the children of the servants and tenants at Avalon, but not in London.
It was not safe for Andrew to be out and about without a groom and his governess to keep watch over him.
Before now, he’d enjoyed spending time with his cousins, but it was hard to be the eldest. Mantheria knew that all too well.
Once Elizabeth was gone, she had no true companion.
Her other sisters had seemed too young for her confidences and too badly behaved for her trust.
Checking the nursery, Mantheria was surprised that Andrew was not there. Nor were any of the toys he played with. She went back down the stairs to the main rooms and searched them one by one, but he was nowhere to be found. Tugging the cord, she waited impatiently for his governess to arrive.
Miss Robinson came into the parlor and curtsied to Mantheria. She was a no-nonsense sort of woman, with a stern face and scraped-back dark hair. “Was Your Grace needing something?”
“May I inquire where Andrew is?”
Blinking, Robinson glanced around the room. “You said that he didn’t have to attend lessons this week. So, he went to your room this morning, Your Grace. He told me that he wanted to spend time with you. I saw him enter and shut the door behind him.”
Mantheria’s room. She hadn’t looked there. “Thank you, Miss Robinson. I shall go and check there.”
“Perhaps I’ll look around the house, too, Your Grace. Just to be safe. Master Andrew has been mighty quiet lately, and we don’t want the little duke getting into any mischief.”
“No, we do not.”
Mantheria’s pulse was beating faster than usual as she climbed the stairs a second time and opened the door to her rooms. Andrew must have entered them right after she’d gone downstairs for breakfast. Many ladies received their breakfast in bed, but Mantheria preferred to eat with her son.
Except he had not been there. She’d assumed that he was sulking.
He hadn’t spoken one word to her yesterday after returning from a ride with his grandfather.
Swallowing convulsively, Mantheria glanced around her room and did not see her son.
She walked quickly to her dressing room—he was not there either.
She passed through the door to her sitting room—Andrew was nowhere to be seen.
Mantheria walked around the sitting room and saw that there was a letter on her desk with Mama scrawled on the front of it.
She picked it up and opened it.
Dearest Mama,
I will be cooped up no longer. I am going on an adventure. Do not worry. I am not running away for good. I shall come back soon, and I shan’t tell anyone that I am a duke—so they don’t kidnap me for a ransom. Not that I think that anyone would believe me anyway. I’m only eleven.
Love, Andrew
Her stomach churned, and a chill of horror ran down her spine. She looked around the room for a timepiece—it was nearly one o’clock. Her beloved son could have already been gone for hours.
If only she had searched for him sooner!
Mantheria had wrongfully believed that she was giving her son the space he needed to mourn. Swallowing a sob, Mantheria had failed everyone else that she’d loved, but she was not going to fail Andrew. She reread the letter to see if Andrew had given her any clues about his whereabouts.
Nothing.
Where did one go on an adventure?
Her father would have said Africa. Her sister Helen would say South America.
Would her eleven-year-old boy attempt to go on a boat?
If Andrew made it to the London docks, there were plenty of boats that hired cabin boys.
But surely any captain worth his salt would not employ a lad dressed like Andrew.
Her son would be wearing fine-linen clothes, real silver buttons on his coat, and custom-sewn boots.
It would not take a genius to realize that he was the son of a wealthy family.
Truthfully, Mantheria would pay any ransom for her son. For Andrew, she would give away her entire fortune. He was her everything.
Clutching the letter, she forced herself to sit down at her desk.
As much as she wanted to cry and scream and pull at her hair, none of these things would help her find her son.
Mantheria picked up a piece of hot-pressed paper and then dipped her quill in ink.
She would send letters to her brothers. There was a sour taste in her mouth, and her hands trembled a little as she wrote:
Dear Matthew,
Andrew has run away to go on an adventure. Would you and Nancy please search the London docks to make sure that he has not gotten on a ship?
Your sister,
Mantheria
Dipping her pen in again, she took out another sheet of paper. Her stomach roiled as she bent her neck.
Dear Wick,
Andrew has run away. Would you please contact the Bow Street Runners and have them
begin searching London for him? No expense is too great.
Also, would you look for Andrew at Hyde Park? He is ever so fond of playing there.
Your sister,
Mantheria
With one last piece of paper, Mantheria’s shoulders curled forward as she wrote to her parents. Frederica and her husband, Samuel, lived with them. As well as her unmarried sister, Becca.
Dear Mama,
Andrew has run away to go on an adventure. I pray that he is with you, but in case he
isn’t, may I enlist the family members in your house to help search for him? I’ve requested that Matthew and Nancy search the docks, and Wick is going to employ the Bow Street Runners and check Hyde Park. Is there any particular place you believe Andrew might go?
I shall remain at home until I hear from you all. As soon as Andrew is recovered, I shall send you a footman with a note.
Love,
Mantheria
She exhaled slowly. Her shoulders were still raised, and she would not be able to relax them until her son was home and safe. Quickly getting to her feet, she took the three notes down to the kitchen and personally handed them to the footmen. “Please leave at once.”
They did not need to be told twice.
As a duchess, Mantheria did not often visit her kitchens.
The lower level of the house was under the supervision of her very capable butler and housekeeper.
She did not intrude in their domain, nor they in hers.
Her three footmen had already put on their coats and were leaving.
The remaining maids and Miss Robinson all looked at her in surprise.
“I am sorry to interrupt you all,” Mantheria said, her voice tight and her arms crossing her stomach in a protective huddle.
“But Andrew is missing. I have a letter from him that says that he has gone on an adventure. . . . Just to be certain, I want every nook and cranny in this house searched. Once that is done, I would like all of you to search for Andrew in the gardens and the streets near this house. Ask anyone and everyone if they have seen a blue-eyed boy with dark hair dressed in black. I will pay handsomely for any information that leads to the safe recovery of my son.”
Mrs. Scott, the housekeeper, pointed to each of the chambermaids and told them which rooms to search.
Mantheria slowly forced her legs up each step and sat in the front parlor.
She wanted nothing more than to search for her son, but someone needed to organize the efforts, and when he was found, she wanted to be the first person to know.
Sitting by the front window, an hour passed by.
Then another.
When the clock struck three o’clock, Mantheria’s body felt like it was strung tighter than a violin. Every noise and rattle caused her to jump. The slightest movement outside of her house made her head turn. She found it difficult to breathe.
After a light knock, Mrs. Scott entered the room with a curtsy and a fresh tea tray that she set on the table near Mantheria.
“Your Grace, Master Andrew was not in the house, the garden, or this street. I have instructed the servants to expand their search in all directions. I hope to hear word from one of them soon.”
“Did no one see him leave the house?” Mantheria demanded. “Or which direction he went?”
Mrs. Scott rubbed her elbow with her opposite hand. “Debbie, a chambermaid, said that Master Andrew asked her yesterday about taking the stagecoach when she lit the fire in the nursery last night, Your Grace. Have you thought of checking some of the posting inns?”
Shaking her head, Mantheria curled her hands into fists until her nails left crescent marks in her palms. “I didn’t think about stagecoaches at all. I have never taken one myself. I do not even know where you would go to ride one.”