onto the chaise, they were laughing like children.
For long minutes, they simply lay there, exhausted yet pleasantly, even euphorically, so. Time passed, and neither felt any compulsion to move. She lay slumped on his chest, listening to his heart slow. With the fingers of one hand, he played with her hair, with the long strands that had come loose from her chignon either during the ride or later; his other hand lay possessively beneath her skirts, curved over her naked hip.
She was aware to her bones of that intimate yet, she was sure, absentminded touch. His fingers drifted a little now and then, but she didn’t think he was thinking of anything. Any more than she was.
The moment itself was enough.
Eventually he sighed, and stirred. “I suppose we’d better go down. It must be time to dress for dinner.” With a reluctance that showed, he drew down her skirts, sat her up, then rearranged his clothes.
She tweaked her blouse and jacket back into place, decided the wild ride would excuse her hair. She stood, and her knees gave way.
He’d been watching; he grasped her hips, steadied her, then stood and offered his arm. Met her gaze as she took it. “You obviously need more practice.”
Another laugh bubbled up. “I’ll think about it.”
She thought she’d had the last word, but as he handed her down the steps, he murmured, “Do.”
Wicked promise and arrogant warning combined.
They remounted and ambled down and around into the stable yard. Canter came himself, reporting that there’d been no action through the day.
Much
He saw her to her room, then continued down the corridor to his.
Still pleasantly aglow, she sighed, and rang for Ellie. Sitting on her dressing stool, she unpinned her hair, brushed it, then slowly, wits drifting, re-coiled it.
Only then did she realize Ellie hadn’t appeared.
That was such a strange occurrence, she rose and went to the door. Opening it, she headed for the back stairs. Reaching the landing, she heard voices; peering over the balustrade, she saw Figgs patting Ellie’s shoulder firmly, but the look on Figgs’s face was distracted.
“I know, ma’am.” Ellie hiccupped. “I’ll go right up.”
Ellie had obviously been crying.
“What’s the matter?” Penny went quickly down the stairs. “Is something wrong?”
Figgs and Ellie straightened; they exchanged glances, then Figgs faced Penny as she stepped onto the tiled floor. “It’s Mary, my lady. The parlor tweeny. She went out last evening-I thought it was for a walk to meet Tom Biggs down by the stable, but Tom didn’t see her, and Ellie thinks Mary went to meet some other new fellow.”
“And?” Penny prompted when Figgs fell silent.
“Mary didn’t come home last night. We’ve been expecting her any hour, but then we thought maybe one of her brothers had come and met her while she was out and called her urgently home, or something of the sort.” Figgs sighed, and met Penny’s eyes. “We sent a lad and he’s just got back-Mary’s family hasn’t seen her either, not since her last day off.”
A cold, black vise closed about Penny’s stomach. “No one’s seen her since she left last night?”
“No, my lady. And she’s not the sort to do such a thing-not at all. And her things are still here-she didn’t take anything with her.”
Penny looked at Ellie, woebegone and clearly imagining the worst. “Did Mary say anything about this man she went to meet?”
“Not particular, m’lady. Just that he was tall and ’and-some, and not in the usual way of things.”
Figgs drew in a breath. “We was wondering, my lady, Norris and me, whether we should tell his lordship?”
Nicholas wouldn’t have the first idea what to do, but it was now his house, or at least his father’s. Penny nodded. “Yes, tell Lord Arbry.” Lips firming, she turned back to the stairs. “And I’ll tell Lord Charles.”
“Indeed, my lady.” Figgs’s relief rang clearly. “Do you want Ellie to attend you now, ma’am?”
Penny glanced back at the wilting Ellie. “Just bring my washing water and lay out a plain gown. I’ll change after I’ve spoken with Lord Charles.”
Figgs and Ellie bobbed, and turned back to the kitchens.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Penny stopped at the first door and knocked lightly. “Charles?”
The door opened an instant later. “What?” He looked at her, looked past her. He’d just shrugged on a fresh shirt; the halves framed his chest.
She fixed her gaze on his face. “We have a problem.”
He waved her inside. She sat in a chair and told him all she knew while he buttoned the shirt, tucked it in, and quickly tied his cravat.
“And no one knows who this man is?” He shrugged on his coat.
“Apparently not.” She met his gaze. “It doesn’t sound good, does it? Why would Mary suddenly go missing just now?”
“Don’t extrapolate too far, too fast.” Charles glanced at the window, checking the light. “The first thing we need do is confer with Nicholas and set up a search. If someone’s seen her about with a man, maybe there’s some other, less dire explanation.”
They found Nicholas in the library with Norris; he looked stunned. “Have you heard?” he asked.
Penny nodded. She sat and let Charles take charge; he’d always been good at that sort of thing.
Nicholas, a civil servant to his toes, responded to the voice of command; within minutes, Charles had him writing to Lord Culver, informing him of the missing maid and that they were instituting a search immediately.
Charles turned to Norris. “Send to the stables, the home farm, and the workers’ cottages-round up as many men as you can, but we’ll need to leave yourself and a handful of others here to hold the fort.”
Norris nodded, glanced at Nicholas, saw him absorbed in composition, bowed to her, and hurried out.
Charles reached over Nicholas and tugged a fresh sheet of paper free. Pulling a chair to the desk, he sat and picked up Nicholas’s other pen and checked the nib. When Nicholas looked at him, he said, “I’m going to send to Essington Manor for more men. The Abbey’s too far, at least for tonight-it’ll be dark soon. We need to do all we can while there’s still light enough to see.”
Penny hesitated, then said, “What about the estuary?”
Charles looked at her, then nodded. “I’ll get the Gallants and the others out, too. They can search the shallows.”
She sat for a moment, listening to the scratch of nibs on paper, then rose. “I’ll go and change.”
She returned downstairs just as the Essingtons and the males of their household arrived. Both David and his brother Hubert had come, mounted and ready to search; they’d always been good neighbors and had understood the need-they’d come with all speed.
Millie and Julia had driven themselves over in the gig to keep her company. “So horrible to have to sit and wait alone,” Millie said.
Charles greeted the Essington ladies with heartfelt approval; Penny had changed out of her riding habit, but from the look on her face, she’d been planning to drive herself about in the gig, supposedly assisting the search, but not assisting him in the slightest.
He didn’t want her in any way involved. He had a very bad feeling over what they were going to find. In this part of the country, maids did not walk out and not come back. Not unless they couldn’t come back.
While Millie and Julia claimed Penny’s attention, he conferred with the Essington brothers; they quickly agreed on the area they’d each scour. He and the Wallingham staff would search the north hemisphere, David the southwest quadrant, and Hubert the southeast, including the estuary banks. “I’ve sent word to the Gallants-they’ll take the estuary.”
“Right.” David pulled on his gloves, exchanged a glance with his brother. “We’ll be off, then.”
While they farewelled their ladies, Charles murmured to Penny, “I’ll have a word to Nicholas before I go.”
She looked at him. “Isn’t he going with you?”
He met her gaze. “I’d rather he remained here.”
Penny read his eyes, then nodded and rose. “He’s in the library-I’ll come with you.”
Excusing herself to Millie and Julia, she accompanied him to the library. Nicholas was looking out of the window
