Now, Betsy looked horrified.
“But no one ever said I wasn’t to, and I’m the one who always helps Mr. Woolton with the messages…”
“Yes, it’s not your fault,” Cecily soothed her. “I think my uncle forgot, but he would have told Mary that she wasn’t allowed to write to anyone if he had thought of it.”
“I’m so sorry, miss. I won’t be in trouble, will I?”
Cecily shook her head and made herself smile. “Forget all about it. I won’t say a word, and I’m sure Mary won’t either. Now, off to bed.”
“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.”
However difficult it seemed, the only solution was to find Mary herself, ideally before her absence was noticed. At least now, Cecily knew the approximate time her sister had left and hadsome clues to follow, including the name of Mary’s lover and her limited knowledge of his older brother, the Duke of Greyhaven.
The butterflies returned to her stomach as she realized she might have to beg the Duke for assistance in finding his brother. If she could find Patrick, then she would find Mary. But what explanation could she give, and what might the Duke ask in return?
Putting those unsettling questions out of her mind for now, Cecily decided to focus on the immediate tasks. The house was quiet, and she assumed her uncle was still at his club. Quietly going down to the library, she retrieved Debrett’s Peerage and an atlas of the British Isles and took them upstairs with her.
As well as Greyhaven Park, the Duke appeared to own a range of other properties scattered around the country. With dismay, Cecily noted a farm in Sussex, woodland in Nottinghamshire, and a small manor in Yorkshire. Patrick might be taking Mary to any of these, or even to somewhere else not owned by his brother.
What am I to do?
CHAPTER 5
“Good morning, Grandmother,” Cecily made herself say cheerfully as she sat down at the breakfast table the next morning. “I hope you slept well.”
“I did not,” Lady Holt grumbled. “The wind was blowing too loudly, and there were lumps in my mattress. I am sure the maids do not turn it regularly, although they claim they do. I must speak to Preston about it.”
Making suitably sympathetic noises, Cecily poured herself some tea, then took a slice of fruitcake and placed it on her plate, hoping she could manage to eat it. Despite skipping dinner last night, she had been too worried to eat any of the food she had bagged for Mary.
As she ate now, she felt very conscious of the letter tucked uncomfortably into her stays. Really, she ought to have burned it, but it was the only evidence she had that Mary was with Patrick, and she might need it in her search. If her uncle orgrandmother found it now, she would certainly be punished for hiding Mary’s escape.
“What does Mary have to say for herself now?” Lady Holt asked, causing the cup in Cecily’s hand to tremble slightly before she steadied it.
“I… I have not seen her today,” Cecily answered. “Mary was already in bed when we returned last night, and I heard no noise from her room this morning. I have left her to sleep.”
“What a lazy girl she is!” Lady Holt tutted. “She has not deigned to come down for breakfast. I have not yet sent up any bread today. She may wait for it.”
Cecily masked her relief at that, which gave her a little more time before the inevitable discovery of Mary’s absence.
“I think Mary might be very tired,” she said, obviously not wishing to change her grandmother’s mind about sending anyone up to Mary’s room. “It is best that she is undisturbed.”
It was after ten o’clock when chaos finally erupted in the house. Cecily was in the library, quietly researching the Winslow family and the different routes the lovers might have taken in their escape last night. She braced herself for what was to come as soon as she heard her grandmother’s loud shrieks from the hallway.
“Gone? What do you mean, Mary is gone?”
A maid murmured something in an apologetic tone.
“How can you not know? Someone must know. Girls do not simply vanish into thin air!”
Cecily opened the library door and walked toward where her grandmother was berating a frightened-looking maid.
“What is the matter, Grandmother? I heard shouting.”
“What is the matter? You tell us, Cecily! Where is your sister?”
“Is she not in her room?” Cecily asked as guilelessly as she could. “I have not seen her come downstairs yet.”
“You deceitful chit!” Lady Holt shouted furiously, going to her and shaking her by the shoulders.
