The Vanishing at Loxby Manor, Abigail Wilson [best value ebook reader .TXT] 📗

expected never really materialized. We were all just childhood friends set out on one of ouradventures.

The previous night’s torrential storms had vanished with the dawn, leaving a bright sun amid a blue, cloudless sky. I tooka deep breath, my gaze wandering the dithered valley to the crisscrossing hedgerows and beyond. For the first time in as longas I could remember, an inkling of peace had found its way into my heart. Perhaps telling someone had its merits after all.

If only Seline were with us.

Her absence was the one blight on the perfectly beautiful morning. Piers must have been watching me, because his voice feltlike the delicate strokes of a painter, an omniscient one. “Seline would have loved to be here with us.”

“How did you know I was thinking of her?”

“I suppose because I am always doing so myself.”

Avery had drifted a little ahead, and I moved to urge Jewel forward when Piers’s arm shot out, his fingers curling around my reins. “Charity, we didn’t get a chance to finish our discussion yesterday. I’d hoped to have a moment of privacy with you . . .”

“I said all I mean to.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

I closed my eyes. “Not here, Piers. Please.”

There was an edge to his voice I couldn’t place, but his eyes were soft. “Another time, then?”

I was spared an answer by Avery’s startled shout. Piers and I jerked our attention toward a small grove of trees several yardsoff the roadway. Avery had dismounted his horse and was on his hands and knees. “Piers, come at once! Oh God, no!”

Piers spurred Gypsy forward, and I followed as quickly as I could. He was off the horse’s back in seconds, rushing to Avery’sside. He, too, dropped to the ground before clawing at the dirt, his hands feverish at Avery’s side.

He must have heard my approach as his head shot up. “Don’t come any closer!”

“What is it?”

Avery nodded and Piers pushed to his feet before stalking to the side of my horse. His hands were at my waist, and I slippedonto the ground.

His face was bereft of life, his eyes stone-cold. His voice came out more like that of a ghost than a man. “I’ve feared forsome time this day was coming, but I never could really make myself believe it possible . . .”

Coils of ice wrapped my heart as I took a closer look at Avery’s desperate hands and the tears pouring down his face. “No!”

“It’s Seline.” Piers shook his head achingly slow. “Someone buried her battered body in a shallow grave. The heavy rains last night must have washed away some of the earth, exposing a piece of her gown.”

Disbelief still prowled my mind. “Are you certain?”

He closed his eyes for a long moment. “Quite certain, I’m afraid.”

Carefully I reached for his gloved hands, which were wet and muddy from the ground. “How?”

His voice was choked by emotion and he hesitated to answer, letting out a ragged breath. “It looks as if she was hit overthe head.” He squeezed my fingers, pain so evident in his eyes. “Are you well enough to ride for Rushridge? It’s just overthat rise. I dare not leave Avery in such a state. Priscilla will be there.”

All I wanted to do was help him somehow. “My legs are a bit weak, but I can manage.”

Almost mindlessly he cupped his hands, and I placed my boot into his waiting fingers. I was thrust back onto Jewel and sentcantering down the road before I had much of a chance to process the last few unthinkable minutes. But as I steered my horsethrough Rushridge’s elaborate gate, it hit me all at once.

Seline was gone. Dead. Here I’d been worried about my own problems when my dearest friend had been . . . What?

Murdered? My chest tightened. Someone had placed her body so carelessly in that grave—on Hugh Daunt’s property, no less. Suppositionsflashed through my mind until I could bear to think of them no longer. All I knew was Hugh must know something, and I wasriding alone to his very doorstep.

*  *  *

Priscilla was fetched from her room straightaway and made quick work of sending a servant to inform the authorities about Seline’s death. After several seconds of disordered pacing, she took a seat beside me on the sofa, oddly undecided about whether we should tell Hugh.

I was still nursing quite a range of shock when I rounded on her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hugh must be appraised of the situationand at once.”

She grimaced, the delicate lines on her face pulling tight. “I suppose you’re in the right of it, but I shudder to think whatsuch appalling news will do to him.”

“Do to him?” Hugh edged into the room, having caught the last breath of our tense conversation.

Priscilla flew to her feet, mumbling as she raced across the room, roused into fawning all over him.

Some part of what we were discussing must have shown on our faces, for Hugh would have none of Priscilla, plunging his handthrough his hair. “Quit your prattling and tell me what the devil is going on.”

Priscilla cast me a desperate look, and I moved to intercept. “Please, come into the room and sit down, Hugh. There is somethingyou must know, and it will be difficult to hear.”

I watched him closely, anxious to soften the blow in some way, but as I picked my way through the words to use, I had a strangethought. Would Hugh be as distraught by the news of Seline’s death as we all thought he would? Though Priscilla had assuredme he was teetering on the brink of madness, I wasn’t entirely sure I agreed with her.

He took a seat, then motioned with his hand. “Well, get on with it.”

“It’s about Seline.” I slowed my speech to give him time to process all I was about to reveal. “We haven’t told anyone, but she’s been missing since the night she had the argument with Lord Kendal at Kinwich Abbey. A note was found that same night detailing how she’d run off to Gretna Green, which we all believed at