Chapter Eight
It had grown dark and rainy since they had arrived at the house, and the wind was starting to pick up.
Constance followed the Earl out to the stables, wishing she had brought a cloak, for it was rather cold.
The wind whipped at her hair, and she wondered whether her maid’s diligent work would hold up to such an onslaught.
"Matthew!" she called as they walked towards the stables. "Matthew! We should have brought a lantern."
"Yes," the Earl agreed. "Hopefully there’ll be one in the stables that we can take."
"Hopefully he’ll be there, and we won’t have to look any further."
"Have you met the boy?" the Earl asked.
"Yes – but he was only a baby. I doubt he knows who I am."
They searched the stalls, shouting the boy’s name, and although there were lanterns in there, there was still no sign of him.
"What should we do now?" Constance asked. "They didn’t say where to go next…"
The Earl thought for a moment. "They mentioned the beach. And that’s bound to be the hardest place to search, and the most dangerous. So I say there – if you agree."
Constance nodded, although she was already shivering, and they went back out into the wind and rain, the Earl carrying a lantern that he had taken from the wall of the stable.
They shouted the boy’s name as they walked towards the steps that led to the beach, but then had to focus more on the path so as not to fall.
As they took the rest of the steps down to the beach, she couldn’t help but ask, "Why did you want to search with me?"
He stopped then and turned, the lantern held aloft so she could see his face.
"I wanted to apologise – properly. You were right. I should have listened to your explanation and not shouted. And I should not have been rude because I assumed that you were lower class. I’m sorry – and I hope you can forgive me. "
She was surprised by his apology. She had not expected him to agree so readily that she was right, nor to be so apologetic.
"Well…thank you. And I am sorry for coming into your home. I did think it was abandoned – and from the outside, it certainly looks it."
The Earl chuckled. "My mother is always on at me to engage a gardener. I’m afraid it all fell by the wayside. And it has been a long time since I have been in polite company, and I forgot my manners."
The path down to the beach was rocky, and she tripped on a loose stone, having to reach for the Earl to stop herself from falling. He steadied her with a warm hand, and she shivered, as though suddenly remembering just how cold she was, out in the night in just her dress.
The Earl immediately stopped.
"Here, take my jacket. You’ll freeze to death in that dress, in weather like this."
She did not like to be the damsel in distress, but she was feeling decidedly uncomfortable, and she would not refuse the warmth of his jacket. When he slipped it over her shoulders, she was pleased to find it was also warm from the heat of his body, and she immediately felt much more comfortable.
"Thank you."
"See? I can be a gentleman – I promise."
She gave a chuckle. "I didn’t doubt that – although the beard was somewhat ungentlemanly. I was just worried that you only thought certain people deserving of such politeness."
"Well, I promise you, the beard, and my rudeness, will not make a reappearance."
"Matthew!" they both cried out in unison. "Matthew!"
At the other end of the beach, they could see lanterns flickering in the wind, and Constance presumed they were the staff out searching for the boy.
She hoped he wasn’t out here, in the cold and dark and rain on his own, and most of all, she hoped he was found quickly.
His poor mother looked terrified – as she imagined any mother would at their four-year-old being missing from their bed at night.
"Hello?" A thin voice rang out across the wind.
Constance spun around, trying to identify the direction of the voice, for she could not see anything in the darkness. The Earl waved the lantern around this way and that, casting light into the shadows, but still there was no obvious source of the voice.
"Matthew?" Constance called out, and she heard a whimper.
"Help! Help me, please!"
She hurried along the beach to where she thought the voice was coming from, and there, lying on the floor, was little Matthew.
Well, she presumed it was the boy, for she had not seen him since he was a baby.
But he was a child out by the castle late at night, and he had a look of the Duke and Duchess.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, hurrying towards him and kneeling at his side, the Earl in hot pursuit with the light.
"My ankle," he said with a sob. "I just wanted to see if it was true – about the jellyfish, about them lighting up…"
"You shouldn’t have snuck out," Constance said, although of course it was not her place to chastise the boy.
"I know. I fell…it hurts."
"Can you stand?" the Earl asked, and the boy looked rather terrified of his booming voice. He shook his head.
"Let’s get you home. Your parents are worried sick," the Earl said in a stern voice, before lowering himself and lifting the boy from the ground, easily carrying him across his arms.
It was certainly useful to have a strong man there to carry the boy up the steps, but Constance couldn’t help but notice that he did not have much of a way with children about him.
◆◆◆
They met the Duke and Duchess on their way back to the castle. When the Duchess saw that Ezra was carrying the boy in his arms, she rushed towards him, nearly tripping several times as she did so. The Duke hurried to catch her up and ended up reaching them first, in spite of his limp.
Matthew! Is he hurt? Where was he?" She reached for him, but Ezra shook his head.
"Let me get him back to the castle. He is well, I believe – a little shaken, and with a twisted ankle. But it is cold; let’s get him inside."
He had heard stories of how the Duke’s leg had been badly damaged in the fire that had killed his father.
He knew that was why the man walked with a limp – and why he quite probably would not be able to carry the boy up to the castle.
It was no problem for Ezra, and so it did not make sense to swap.
They made a strange party, making their way back to the front door. The Duchess clung to her son’s hand, which was probably slowing Ezra down, but he did not say anything. Lady Constance walked beside him, still wearing his jacket.
When they got inside, the Duke directed Ezra up the stairs to the boy’s bedchamber, where the worried nanny was pacing.
"Oh, you found him! You found him! Matthew, you are terrible for worrying me like that. I did not know where you were, I—"
"Apparently he wanted to look at jellyfish," Ezra said with a wry smile. "But all’s well that ends well, eh?"
As the Duchess checked her son’s foot, the Duke offered his hand and shook Ezra’s. "Thank you both – enormously. If he hadn’t been found…well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. We are in your debt."