Chapter Twenty
For a moment, the room was frozen, silent. It was like they had all misheard simultaneously. Like it was a joke and Cece was
taking forever with the punch line.
“She’s disappeared!” Cece blurted louder.
But the duke simply huffed from the place he’d assumed at the head of the table. “Ninety-year-old women—”
“She’s eighty-one,” Maggie cut in, but the man either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
“—do not simply disappear, young lady.” He spat the words like it was somehow Cece’s fault. Like Eleanor was a dog and Cece
had let her off her leash.
“I know that,” Cece implored. “But I can’t find her.”
“Well, did you check her office?” the duchess asked.
“It’s locked. I knocked but—”
Rupert pushed his chair back and tossed his napkin on the table in a gesture that screamed Do I have to do everything myself? Then he stormed out of the room and up the stairs.
They must have made an odd little processional—Rupert in the lead with the rest of Eleanor’s friends and family trailing behind
him. Maggie shouldn’t have been surprised to feel Ethan beside her, but there he was, expression oddly serious as they walked
down the long hall toward Eleanor’s office.
James was already there and knocking. “Ma’am? Ma’am, if you could open the door, please?”
“Give me the key,” Rupert demanded, but James kept on knocking. “The key!” Rupert snapped at Cece this time, sounding a bit
too haughty for a man who was currently wearing a sweater with a pear tree on it.
“I-I-I don’t have it,” Cece stammered.
“Then go get it,” Rupert said, like that much should have been obvious.
“I don’t have one!” Tears were in Cece’s eyes then.
“You.” Rupert pointed at the butler. “Get the key.”
James didn’t cry or whimper. He just looked at Rupert in the manner of a man who had been there long before Eleanor’s ungrateful
nephew showed up and who would be there long after. “There is only one key, sir. And Ms. Ashley keeps it with her at all times.”
“Every old house in England has a master key.” The duchess sounded annoyed. “Everyone knows that. So go get the master.”
“That is true, ma’am, but—”
Ethan was squatting on the floor and looking at the lock, examining the door in a way the others hadn’t noticed. “This lock
is new. A master key wouldn’t work on this door.”
“Precisely,” James said. “Ms. Ashley had this lock changed a year ago and was adamant that she keep possession of the only
key.”
“That’s insane.” Rupert turned to his sister. “I told you she was paranoid. Delusional. I was afraid something like this was
going to happen.”
The hall filled with bickering and shouts, but all Maggie could think was What if something is wrong? What if she’s hurt? What if, at this moment, Eleanor is on the other side of that door, and...
Maggie turned and looked at Ethan. He didn’t feel like a stranger anymore. They were the only silent people in the space but
a whole conversation seemed to be taking place between them.
Can you believe these idiots? And Priorities, people! And, most of all, This could be bad. This could be very, very bad and they either don’t know or don’t care and I honestly don’t know which is worse and—
She watched Ethan make up his mind. And spin. And kick. The door splintered, springing open, and the hall went suddenly silent.
“Oh, look. The door’s open,” Ethan said, then went inside.