That’s not like him,William thought, a sense of unease sparking in his chest.
“What’s the matter?”
“It is the Brookford family,” the butler said, regaining his breath. “I amquitesure that her Grace, the Dowager, is unaware of this, and they would not agree to wait even an hour longer! Her Grace will be quite upset, I fear. There’ll be a great deal of talk about this, too. They wouldnotbe reasoned with. Their minds were quite made up.”
“What are you talking about?” William felt the first throbs of a headache at his temples. “I don’t understand.”
The butler drew in a breath. “The Brookford family has packed up their things and left about ten minutes ago.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I beg your pardon,” William said at last. “You mean they have left, without warning or announcing it? Is there a note?”
The butler shook his head. “There was something of a kerfuffle this morning, I believe. I only heard of it half an hour ago, when the Brookford carriage was summoned. Their things were already half loaded by the time I arrived. I tried to get to the bottom of it, but Lord Brennon was remarkably uncooperative. He only said that he believedyou, your Grace, would know the reason.”
William swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat.
He’s right. I do know the reason. I shamed Lavinia Brookford, I hurt her more than I had ever intended to do, and now her family are leaving my home.
“Is… are all of them going?” he managed at last.
The butler sighed. “Gone, your Grace. All four of them. I watched the carriage move away. I thought, mistakenly, thatyouhad gone out with the hunt, your Grace, or I would have told you at once. Of course, they cannot beobligedto stay, but…” he bit his lip. “There’ll be a great deal of talk about this, your Grace. The nastiest rumours are started over things as silly as this. I cannot imagine what might have happened to offend the family, but…”
“I must go down to the stables,” William said shakily, snatching up the locket from the table.
He left the study, sprinting down the hallway. The butler followed him, the poor man puffing and panting as he went. William felt a pang of sympathy, but really, there was no time to waste.
He went straight to the Brookfords’ rooms. They were, as the butler had promised, empty, an odd sort ofdesertedfeeling hanging in the air.
There was no note, nothing at all, not even a folded slip of paper left out on the chest of drawers.
William stood in the middle of one of the bedchambers, his breath coming hard, heart pounding.
What have I done?
Timothy warned me. Or tried to, at least. He told me thatnot yetmight easily becomenever. And now, my chance has slipped away.
No. Not quite. It hasnearlyslipped away. And that’s not the same thing at all.
“I’ll need a horse,” William said at last. The butler who had arrived puffing after him, flinched.
“A… a horse, your Grace?”
“Yes. There’s a nice mare in the stables called Cinnamon. Saddle her up. I shall ride out after them.”
The butler cleared his throat awkwardly. “There… there aren’t any horses, your Grace. Not riding ones.”
William rounded on him. “What did you say?”
The poor man shrank back. “The hunt, your Grace! Just about every horse in the stables has been taken out! I might be able to find a few horses from the farmlands to hire, and we could strap them up to one of the carriages, and…”
“No, no, that’ll take too long. They’ve got a long enough head start. I’ll never catch them in a carriage, or on some staid old carthorse.” William dropped his head into his hands, giving a muffled groan. “Are therenohorses atallin my stables?”
There was a long, pregnant pause.
“Well,” the butler began carefully. “There is one horse.”
William lifted his head. “Oh?”
