they’d caught sight of it. James had climbed up there immediately and refused to leave. She’d had to threaten all kinds of horrible punishments. All of which were ignored. It was Clive who had finally persuaded him to climb down.
The twins had spent most of the summer playing in that tree house. They would not be happy to find out other kids had taken it over.
Clive had reached the clearing and was standing still, apparently listening. She crept up to his side, and listened, too. She could hear them talking, but couldn’t make out what they said. Then she heard another sound that took her breath away. The quiet whimper of a baby.
She looked up at Clive and met his triumphant gaze. “I think,” he said softly, “we have found Angelina Prestwick.”
CHAPTER 18
Sitting by the fireside in her suite, Cecily struggled to keep up a decidedly one-sided conversation. Madeline was preoccupied with her thoughts, and Cecily could hardly blame her. She couldn’t imagine how she would have felt had someone stolen away one of her babies.
Even now, with both her sons grown men and living in a foreign country, she worried when she didn’t receive word from them. One never stopped worrying about one’s offspring, no matter how old they were.
Nevertheless, she felt compelled to keep Madeline’s mind off her troubles, or at least distract her for a while. “Are you quite sure you don’t want to summon the constable to organize a search party?”
Madeline shook her head. “I don’t want to cause unnecessary trouble.”
“Unnecessary?” Cecily stared at her, totally unable to comprehend her friend’s thinking. “I don’t like to disagree with you, Madeline, but I can’t help feeling you are making a grave mistake. How can you be so certain your baby is safe?”
Madeline sighed. “I didn’t say I was certain. I simply have a very strong feeling that if I raise a hue and cry about this, an innocent person will be greatly harmed. I have to trust my instincts, Cecily. I have to have faith in my powers.”
“And if your powers are wrong this time?”
A brief spasm of pain crossed Madeline’s face. “Then I shall lose faith in everything.”
Cecily blinked back a tear. “Oh, Madeline. I pray you are right. I hope-” She broke off as a timid summons on the door brought her to her feet.
Madeline looked up, hope flaring in her face. She uttered not a word as Cecily hurried over to the door and opened it.
The young maid who stood there looked frightened, as well she might. The events of the last few days were not exactly in keeping with the festivities of the season. “You have visitors, m’m,” she said, dropping a deep curtsey. “Colonel Frederick Fortescue and his wife request to call on you.”
Cecily heard Madeline muttering behind her. She could guess the general content of her comments. Although she confessed to being fond of Phoebe Fortescue, Madeline was often irritated by the capricious woman, and could be quite biting toward her when her mood was low. Cecily could not imagine her mood being much lower than it was at present, which did not bode well for any interaction with Phoebe, much less her bombastic husband.
Between the two of them, the Fortescues could be exhausting, and Cecily was quite sure that Madeline would not be in a suitable frame of mind to handle such turmoil.
She was about to inform the maid to give Phoebe her regrets when Madeline called out, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Cecily, invite them up here. They will help take my mind off things. After all, one can never dwell on private matters when Phoebe is in full gusto.”
It didn’t matter how many times Madeline read her mind, Cecily could never get accustomed to the jolt it gave her. She instructed the maid to send up the couple, though she had the distinct feeling it was not the wise thing to do.
Closing the door, she looked across the room at Madeline, who was gazing into the fire, her chin propped on her hands. “Are you quite sure you want to be in such… ah… invigorating company right now?”
Madeline sat up, smoothing her long hair away from her face. “Of course not, but you were dithering about for so long I felt someone had to make a decision. I could hardly tell you to send them away, now could I?”
Cecily sighed. “I’m sorry, Madeline. I know this isn’t the best time, but Phoebe is most likely here to prepare the library for her musicians. The carol singing ceremony is tonight, remember?”
“Yes, of course I remember.” Madeline got up from her chair and wandered over to the window. “What on earth is taking them so long?”
“Well, they do have to walk all the way up three flights of stairs.”
“No, I don’t mean the Fortescues. I mean the people searching for Angelina. Someone should have found her by now. She’s cold. She doesn’t have her blanket.” She turned suddenly, her face pale and drawn. “Oh, Cecily, what if I
“Don’t even say it!” Cecily rose swiftly and hurried over to her. “You’ve never been wrong before. I shouldn’t have questioned you. I’ve put doubts in your mind-”
A loud rapping on the door made them both jump. Cecily raised her eyebrows at her friend, silently asking if she was ready to receive the visitors.
Madeline gave her a brief nod, then moved back to the window.
Calling out, “Do come in!” Cecily walked toward the door to greet her friends.
Phoebe entered first, carrying an umbrella, her skirts rustling as she walked. As always, she looked spectacular, dressed in a pale green tea gown, covered with a navy blue coat and a massive dark blue hat perched sideways on her head. Green ostrich feathers curled over the brim, which was heavily adorned with holly and frosted red berries.
“Cecily, dearest!” she cried, as she swept across the carpet. “I’ve been hearing such dreadful stories! As if that poor girl wasn’t enough. I can’t close my eyes without seeing her swinging from the rafters. Now I hear that her husband is dead and Madeline’s poor little baby is missing.” She grasped Cecily’s hands in her gloved fingers, tears gushing from her eyes. “Please tell me it isn’t true.”
“It’s quite true.”
Madeline had spoken from her spot by the window, and Phoebe spun around so fast she almost lost her balance. “Dear heaven, Madeline! I didn’t see you there. Oh, you poor thing. How can you possibly bear it?”
“I’m bearing up quite well, thank you.” Madeline came forward and suffered a hug from Phoebe before drawing back. “Nice of you to ask, though.”
“Of course. I-”
Phoebe’s next words were drowned out by a deep, booming voice at the door. “Blast it, woman, do you have to walk so fast? I’m out of breath trying to keep up with you.”
The gentleman who entered wore a tweed hacking jacket and carried a matching tweed hat. The lower half of his face was hidden behind a mass of white whiskers and his nose glowed viciously red, suggesting a recent bout with a large bottle of brandy.
“Freddie, dear, do come in and shut that door. There’s such a dreadful draft.” Phoebe shivered and tucked her hands in her muff. “I simply can’t get warm these days.”
“It must be old age creeping on,” Madeline said, moving closer to the fireplace. “Come and sit down, Phoebe. It’s warm by the fire.”
Phoebe gave her a suspicious look, then, apparently deciding Madeline meant well, delicately lowered herself onto the armchair. “So do tell me all about it. Where did you find that poor dead man? How long has the baby been missing?”
Cecily was about to loudly change the subject when Colonel Fortescue did it for her.
“Reminds me of when I was on a tour of duty for the British army in India, old girl.” He’d pronounced it
“Oh, Freddie, do please be quiet.” Phoebe gave him a fierce frown then turned back to Madeline. “As I was
