shirt. “Don’t drop me.”
“Don’t insult my abilities,
“The inn in Pamplona.”
“I tripped on the carpet. I hung on to you.”
“The Granvilles’ house party.”
“We collapsed on the sofa together.”
“Scotland last Christmas Eve.”
“Ah, there you have me.” He set her down on the embroidered coverlet they’d brought back from Lisbon. “As I recall, we never made it to the bed that time.”
“That’s what I mean. I don’t like the floor.” She caught hold of the loose ends of his cravat and pulled him down for a kiss. “That’s better.” Her vulnerable moment was gone. She went to work on the buttons on his waistcoat. She was still half-wearing her gown. He decided it was in the way. He helped her wriggle out of it, carefully, because he knew it was one of her favorites. His sleeve-link caught on one of the gauzy sleeves. She made him hold still while she disentangled it.
He lost his balance and half fell on top of her. Her chemise had slipped down over her shoulders. He pushed up the hem and reached for the string on her drawers. Even now his fingers shook when he touched her.
He was kissing the underside of her arm and she was trying to pull his shirt over his head when the knock sounded on the door. The blood was pounding so loudly in his head that it was a moment before he heard it.
“Mr. Fraser? Mrs. Fraser?”
It was Laura Dudley, the children’s governess. Melanie was on her feet in an instant. She ran across the room clad only in her chemise and pulled the door open. “What is it?” Charles, two steps behind her, heard the sharpness in her voice. “Is Jessica worse?”
Laura shook her head. “No. She’s asleep. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought—” She swallowed. Her blue eyes were dark with worry. The light from the candle she held flickered and jumped, as though her hands were shaking. Laura Dudley could cope with scraped knees and bumped heads and pencils up children’s noses without batting an eyelash.
“We always wish to be informed when there’s anything amiss with the children,” Charles said. “What is it?”
“It’s Colin.” Candle wax dribbled onto Laura’s fingers, but she didn’t seem to notice. “He’s missing.”
“I thought of that.” Laura gripped her hands together. “I checked. He’s not in the kitchen.”
Bloody hell. Of course she would have looked everywhere she could think of before knocking on the door of their bedchamber at this hour. He squeezed Melanie’s shoulders. “Where haven’t you looked?”
“The servants’ rooms. The other bedchambers.” Laura pushed her plait back over her shoulder. “I heard Jessica cry out but she must have been talking in her sleep, because she was fast asleep when I went in. I looked in on Colin before I went back to bed. He wasn’t in his room. I checked the schoolroom and the kitchen and the reception rooms downstairs. I didn’t look in all the cupboards and under the furniture, though.”
“It’s all right, Laura.” Melanie put a hand on Laura’s arm. “Colin’s probably hiding somewhere to give us a good fright. We’ll have to wake the servants and organize a search.”
Charles had already crossed the room and was tugging the bell pull. Melanie pulled on her dressing gown, and brought Charles his own. They were both decently covered by the time his valet, Addison, and her maid, Blanca, hurried into the room. Addison and Blanca had been with them since their days in the Peninsula and were well used to times of crisis. Neither fussed nor asked unnecessary questions.
The rest of the staff were soon assembled in the ground-floor hall. Higgins, the butler, and Mrs. Erskine, the cook; Morag and Lucy, the housemaids; William and Michael, the footmen; Polly, the laundry maid; Jeanie, the kitchen maid; and Kip, the boot boy. Charles apologized for waking them, explained the problem, and divided them into teams assigned to various parts of the house.
“Don’t worry, Master Charles.” Higgins, who had been a footman in the Fraser household in Charles’s youth, patted his arm with the familiarity of an old friend. “We’ll find the little devil. I hope you won’t be too hard on him. You and Master Edgar got up to a lot worse in your day, as I recall.”
It was perfectly true. It did nothing to quench the queasy feeling in Charles’s stomach.
He and Melanie searched the second floor. Melanie went through the guest suite while Charles examined the nursery and schoolroom more thoroughly than Laura had done. He looked under desks and tables, inside cupboards, and behind chests of drawers, moving cautiously because despite the lamps, he still needed his candle to see into the dark corners. His throat grew hoarse from calling his son’s name. He would never feel the same about the smell of chalk and beeswax again.
He found a sapphire earring Melanie had been missing for weeks, a crumpled Latin exercise in Colin’s round, careful hand, a yellow silk tassel that looked as if it had come from a Hessian boot, and something that seemed to be an ear torn from a stuffed toy. There was no sign of his son. The embers of alarm smoldered and sparked and finally, as the minutes ticked by with no shout of discovery from the rest of the house, flared into a raging blaze that tightened his chest and drove the breath from his lungs. He emerged from the schoolroom to find Melanie closing the door to the dressing room of the guest suite.
“Nothing.” She came down the corridor toward him with a shake of her head. “Charles, do you think he could have run away?”
He set his candle, now sputtering, on a demi-lune side table and gripped her hands. “It’s beginning to look that way. Christ, I’ll wring the little blighter’s neck.”
Melanie squeezed his fingers. “You can kick yourself later, Charles. The question is, where would he have gone?”
“To the stables to visit the horses. Or out into the square. Possibly to Edgar’s or the Lydgates’—he’s walked there often enough in daylight. But let’s not jump to conclusions. We don’t know he
Michael shook his head. He was a carefree young man, recently come from Charles’s grandfather’s property in Ireland and a great favorite with the children. Like Charles, he was wrapped in a dressing gown, his dark hair standing on end. There was a concern in his eyes that Charles had never seen before. “No sign of him on the ground floor or the first. We’re still having a go at the third floor and the attics. Addison’s gone out back to the stables.” He flashed a smile at Melanie. “We’ll find him, Mrs. Fraser, don’t worry.”
“Mummy!” Jessica’s voice carried across the landing. Laura came down the corridor, Jessica in her arms. Jessica’s hair was tousled and her face sleep-flushed, but she stared about her with eyes that were all too alert.
Laura gave a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “I’m afraid all the excitement woke someone up.”
“It’s all right,
Jessica twisted her fingers in the blue satin ribbon at the neck of Melanie’s dressing gown. “I didn’t want him to go ’way. He didn’t hit me that hard.”
“No, of course you didn’t.” Melanie’s voice was bright. Charles suspected only he could see the effort it cost her. “And Colin hasn’t gone away. He’s just…hiding.”
Charles cupped his hand round his daughter’s head. “I’ll have a look at Colin’s room, Mel. See if we missed anything.”
The night-light was still burning in Colin’s bedchamber. Charles lit the lamp on the chest of drawers as well. The light spilled over the green-sprigged curtains, the wallpaper border painted with scenes from Robin Hood, the
