The night had seemed the most silent one of his life and the longest. Longer even than when he’d been in the cottage.
Chalgrove kept recalling every instant that he’d spent with Miss Manwaring. Every word he could bring to mind.
After falling asleep in the early hours, he’d awoken to realise he’d missed breakfast and discovered an empty dining room with cold bacon. He could have easily sent for more, but instead he took a rasher and sat in his chair.
He stared at the teapot, but waved away the maid who’d offered to replace it. He’d not wanted any disruption in his contemplation of Miss Manwaring.
Then the constable had arrived and they had a quiet discussion.
The constable told Chalgrove no one at Carlton Trevor’s residence admitted to knowing more than Miss Manwaring had claimed. The constable had reassured everyone he spoke with repeatedly that Miss Manwaring had assisted the ducal family and Her Grace had much appreciated it and would be wounded if her hospitality was not enjoyed longer.
But at a nearby house, the constable had uncovered a servant who’d seen an old woman wandering about and the constable had deemed it important. He’d found out more, although the kidnapping had been kept quiet. Miss Manwaring’s reputation was secure.
But the old woman had been seen. Her path had been discovered.
Then the constable, chest proud, said he must get back on to the trail before she slipped away and he trotted out.
‘I just saw the constable leaving,’ his mother said, entering the dining room.
‘Nothing of significance yet, but it is only a matter of time.’ Chalgrove stood, then suggested to his mother that she and Mrs Manwaring might enjoy a chance to go shopping.
His mother had considered the statement, then agreed a little too enthusiastically.
She’d suddenly remembered that she must thank the seamstress for the gown she’d sent over and they could do that on the way.
Moving to the library, Chalgrove tapped the nib of his pen against the blotter on his desk.
He waited to talk to Miranda. According to the footman, she’d not been down to breakfast and she had only recently requested a morning tray.
But she was safe in his household—both from what she might not know and what she might know.
Chalgrove waited no longer. He sent for her.
When she walked in, the sight of her caused a strange sensation inside him. He’d somehow forgotten to breathe for an instant.
‘I received your message that the constable has been to the Trevor household and found nothing unusual there. I must see the children.’ Miranda spoke rapidly.
‘You will soon, I’m sure. I’ve sent for the man and asked him to visit tomorrow.’
‘He will be concerned that something is wrong if he is summoned by a duke.’
‘And he will be equally reassured if he is reassured by me.’
Relief brightened her eyes. She lifted for a second on her tiptoes.
In the drab, sombre, governess dress, she could be ignored, but then she smiled and everything changed. Happiness flooded her face. ‘I’m ready to leave.’
He had to regain his footing, wondering if it was the children or their father who brightened her face so.
In the cottage, she’d been in darkness much of the time. They’d been under duress. He’d hardly been aware she was female. First, he’d interpreted her as an attacker, then as a fellow prisoner, and then he’d found himself attracted to her, but only considered it caused by the need to reassure her.
Holding her had been pleasurable, but he’d refused to feel anything at all for her when she was in such distress.
Now, he saw a different woman.
Almost too much of a woman. Yesterday she’d worn a different style of dress. A completely contrasting garment to the one she’d been captured in.
He’d seen her femininity.
Now she wore that drab garment again, but it didn’t matter. She’d changed for ever in his mind.
He stopped, his eyes never leaving her. ‘Most servants—governesses—wouldn’t mind a holiday. A gesture of thanks. A chance to live in a gentler world.’
‘I don’t want Mr Trevor to think the family can survive without me. It will destroy me. I can’t risk leaving him.’
He took the blow without flinching, unaware of where it came from, and why he even felt it. Then he realised. Love was in her eyes. Compassion. The things he’d expected from Susanna. Perhaps expected as a matter of rote. But then he’d realised it wasn’t as common as he’d believed and far more of a treasure to unearth than any cold gemstone.
‘Are you attached to him?’
She bit her lip, thinking of her employer. ‘No. I’m attached to the family I have there. All of them. The children. Cook. Nicky. The stable boy is going through a rough patch now. We are all trying to make him see that we’ve all had losses and he must always be honest with others and himself, because it is truly in his best interest.’
She put fingertips to her cheek.
She’d no idea what she’d missed in not having a friendship with her father and she’d not cared a jot. She didn’t mourn or long for a lost relationship. She’d not cared. If he had no use for her, it was fine with her. She only wanted people around her who truly wanted her and who honestly appreciated her.
Being tossed away early in life had taught her not to put her hopes in someone who would shove her aside. Better to be unloved than to trust someone who cared for you as a duty. After her mother had died, she’d been alone, knowing Miss Cuthbert was not to remain in her life, and tempted by the prospect of marriage.
Miss Cuthbert told Miranda that if she let loneliness control her, it was the same as taking a lover who could beat you from the inside out. The words had shocked Miranda and Miss Cuthbert had reassured her that a loving heart and kindness and good works, and a discerning eye, would give her hope for true friends. The worst thing of all was to let people close who didn’t deserve friendship. They would drain you dry and the truly good friends wouldn’t be able to find you if you’d surrounded yourself with undeserving people.
She called it sullying your heartstrings with wastrels.
Miss Cuthbert had found her the job and told her to escape while she could.
It hadn’t seemed like much of an escape at first. More like tumbling into a cauldron of a family, with a baby who always wanted something and could only wail to tell her. Her life had evolved into such a guessing game she’d not been able to do much but constantly guess who wanted what, and how to get it, and what to do next.
She’d not mourned so much, then, and Miss Cuthbert had reassured her that the family was one she could leave. Had it been her own husband, the most she could hope for was more children to tend to.
Nicky had started watching over her and they occasionally talked. He’d spouted yarns and he told her about how he’d dealt with his own children and how she could guide her charges. He’d given her a view of what a little boy might say or think and how to respond.
Then Dolly had arrived and, while the loss of her mother had been sad, Miranda had found the two easier to care for than Willie had been on his own. A wet nurse had helped and the whole house had banded together for the sake of the children.
Willie was a terror sometimes, but Nicky reassured her that the child was much better for having her than he would have been with someone else.
Mr Trevor left them all to their own routines, even though she could tell he found solace in the children. When the children were with him, she’d enjoyed her time alone, or visiting with the other servants. She’d never guessed the world could be so busy and so pleasant, but the children were where she was needed. They had no mother.
Then her grandmother had taken her from them.
‘You forget.’ She envisaged her life without the children in it. Willie, who had hidden under her bed and scared her out of a year’s life, and Dolly, whom Miranda had awoken one morning to discover peacefully curled, sleeping, at Miranda’s feet.
She couldn’t lose them. She couldn’t. Her heart plunged. What if Dolly had awoken in the middle of the night after Miranda had been taken? She might have been wandering alone in the house in the darkness. ‘I will have to leave soon.’
She could not bear it if she lost the children.
‘I will speak with your employer personally and reassure him you’re not neglecting them. If he doesn’t arrive tomorrow, I will take you there myself.’
She hesitated, calming. A word from him would make a lot of difference. And she needed to keep him on her side. If he found out she was related to the kidnapper, whispers could totally destroy her chance to remain with the little ones. A few loud questions from a duke could hurt her immeasurably.
Chalgrove would not knowingly disparage her so, but he already believed she knew the criminals.
And, she did know one of them.
When she’d left her childhood home, she’d told herself she would never again stay where she didn’t wish to be and she’d meant it.
One step, followed by another, and she would be out the door. In the street, she could begin walking and a hackney would soon pass by. She’d be able to take it to the Trevor residence...assuming her grandmother didn’t have henchmen about, waiting to capture her again and trying to secure her an earl this time. Or she could wait and return with him.
‘I can see by your face that you want to leave. What would you wish for to make your stay more pleasant? I can have it for you in an instant.’
‘I’m worried about the children.’
‘Do you not think it might be safer for them, for now, if you were not with them? What if the persons who tossed me into the room decided to come back for you? First, we must see what the constable finds.’
She opened her mouth, but words failed her. Surely her grandmother would not...? But the woman had left her beside the road. ‘How long do you wish me to stay here?’
‘Until the criminals are caught.’
She faltered.
He studied her face. ‘Don’t worry. It won’t be long.’
‘I will be cautious.’ She touched the pin in her hair. ‘I’ll take extra precautions. Extra precautions for the rest of my life if needed. Let us move past this. They could never be caught and I want to resume my duties. I want this behind me.’
‘We must find these people. They may fear our memory of them. You saw the men’s faces as well as the woman’s. They may return. They likely will. I’ve not uncovered a reason for the crime.’
‘You said funds.’ Her stomach churned. She was misleading him. Purposefully. ‘We escaped so quickly that you don’t know if they were lax on finishing up. They’re lawbreakers. Villains. They don’t make good plans.’
‘But she didn’t take the buttons on my coat, except for one? It makes no sense... Yet they’d been planning for some time on the abduction. One told me that.’
‘They’re not well organised. How long could it take to prepare a bolt on the door, cover a window and put food inside, then nab the person?’
‘So, they must be hanged or transported. They could do this again. But I’ve received some news that should keep everyone safe. The cottage has been found. Questions asked of it. It’s an old gamekeeper’s cottage on the boundary of Earl Rothwilde’s land and he doesn’t use it any more.’
She remembered mention of an earl when she was a child, but she didn’t know which one.
‘We found where a camp had been set up, but it was deserted. No one knows which direction they went, but it can’t be hard to find. I’m having men sent out to ask questions at nearby homes. The place is so sparsely populated someone will notice seeing the old woman and the cart, then we’ll keep asking questions until we catch up with them. The hag will be first to the scaffold.’
Her throat burned as if she could feel the rope.
‘But what if she fancied she was doing good? What if she didn’t think herself bad?’
‘The old woman pinched my arm. I know she was the leader.’ His voice soothed, but his eyes locked on hers. ‘Maybe she worked with others, but I heard her tell them what to do.’ His words softened, but didn’t weaken. ‘I do not assume she worked alone.’ He stepped to her. ‘You’ll go free, but she won’t. If she’s blackmailing you, then give me a chance to put her away for ever.’
Miranda was stunned at the suggestion. ‘I’m not being blackmailed.’ She held herself erect. ‘You have to do something to be blackmailed for.’
Then she paused. ‘Except once. I spent the night in a cottage with a duke.’ She dropped her shoulders, and shut her eyes. ‘I can only hope she never thinks of that.’
Miranda made a fist and put it to her lips before rushing from the room.