Chapter Nineteen
Drumloch Manor
John Montgomery handed his horse and riding crop over to a groomsman and strode purposefully back to the house.
He had just come from the magistrate’s office in the village and learned that they were calling off the search for Catherine.
There had only been one clue about her disappearance—her possible stay at an inn on the first night of her capture.
Beyond that, the magistrate implied that she had simply disappeared into the mist, which was not an uncommon occurrence when a Highlander was involved.
The magistrate had suggested that John hire a few resourceful men who knew their way around the north country.
Quite ridiculously, the man seemed to think there was some mysticism involved, but John knew better.
The Highlander who had abducted Catherine had known something.
Either he had information about her whereabouts over the past five years or he knew something about this family—perhaps what John’s great-aunt refused to reveal.
John pulled his gloves off and slapped them against his thigh as he climbed the steps.
The front door opened a few seconds before he reached it, and he found himself stopping under the wide portico, staring at his butler as if he were seeing him for the first time.
John observed the man’s tall, thin frame and his neatly combed white hair.
“How long have you been at Drumloch, Smythe?” he asked, stepping inside and removing his hat. “Forever, it would seem.”
“Not quite that long, my lord. I began here in ’86.”
“That’s long enough. It’s thirty-five years.”
“Indeed, my lord.”
John watched him steadily. “Follow me, then. I have questions to ask.”
John led the way into the library. “Close the door, Smythe. Very good. Now what secrets do you know about this household—specifically in regards to Lady Catherine, and her disappearance five years ago? She is about to turn five-and-twenty, and will come into her inheritance, but if she is not alive at that time, the funds will be forfeited to the Jacobite cause, and we cannot have that.” He studied the butler with suspicious eyes.
“I understand you were very devoted to my uncle, the former earl.” He paused.
“I also know that he was a staunch supporter of King James and his claim to the throne, but those days are gone, Smythe. You must know that. It is a hopeless cause and I do not wish to see this family’s fortune lost to it.
This is a Hanover house now, and we are loyal to King George.
So tell me what you know. There must be gossip below stairs.
There always is. Where is Lady Catherine?
Where would she go, and what the bloody hell is my aunt hiding from me? ”
The butler went white as a sheet but quickly recovered his composure and spoke with indifference.
“I regret to say that I know nothing, my lord. Lady Catherine’s disappearance five years ago remains a mystery to us all, and if the dowager is hiding something from you …
I daresay she has always been very discreet about family matters.
There has never been any talk of secrets or gossip of any kind below stairs.
With respect, my lord, I do not permit such indiscretions. ”
John had no doubt that Smythe would manage the servants with a firm hand, and that Aunt Eleanor would not likely confide in him. John doubted she would confide in anyone.
“The housekeeper…,” he said on a whim. “How long has Mrs. Silver been serving this family?”
“Longer than I have, my lord. She began in the kitchen, but established herself at a young age and has risen accordingly.”
“She earned everyone’s trust, did she?” John circled around his desk and sat down.
He leaned forward and removed his spectacles.
“Tell her I wish to see her at once, and warn her that her position is at risk if she does not earn my trust. Go now. I do not wish to be kept waiting. There is a great deal of money at stake, not to mention the welfare of my dear cousin, Catherine. We must get her back. She has been through enough. She needs our protection.”
“Very good, my lord.” Smythe turned and left the library.
* * *
Smack! The sharp sting of the dowager’s hand across Mrs. Silver’s face caused both dogs to lift their chins from their slumber in front of the fire.
“You have betrayed me,” Eleanor said. “You wretched woman. You have behaved intolerably! I would shoot you dead if I could, but I will have to settle for ending your employment, and I promise you—no other decent family will ever accept you into service after this. You will soon find yourself destitute or scrubbing pots in some village alehouse. If you’re lucky. ”
Mrs. Silver lifted her chin and glanced down at the growling dogs with a cool, derisive expression. “I’m afraid not, milady,” she said. “The earl has promised me employment here indefinitely, and he has rewarded me with a substantial increase in my wages.”
The dowager scoffed. “So your loyalty was bought for a better price? Is that it, Mrs. Silver?”
“Aye, milady. The earl was very kind, and concerned for Lady Catherine’s welfare. She was abducted by a Highlander. I could not, in good conscience, keep information from him which might result in her rescue.”
The dowager swung her cane through the air like a whip and knocked over a vase of fresh flowers.
“He is concerned for her money, you fool! He doesn’t give a fig about her welfare!
She has already been ruined in every way.
What is the point in saving her now, except to hold on to her inheritance?
And as for being concerned…” She paused and pulled her lips into a thin line.
“I was concerned once before, and traveled all the way to Italy to bring her home, only to be disappointed by her yet again. She is a disloyal, ungrateful gel. This is the second time she has run off, and I am through with her. I am done with you, too, Mrs. Silver. Get out of my sight.”
The dowager whistled, and the dogs followed her into her dressing room, where she waited for the door to close behind the wretched, unfaithful housekeeper. For a long moment the dowager sat in silence.
Though the room was quiet, her heart was pounding in her ears like heavy claps of thunder. She could endure it no longer. She fell to her knees and collapsed into a fit of despair.
“Damn her!” she cried. “Damn that wayward child! How could she have left us like this?”