Page 10 of Mistress of Darkness

Chapter 4

On the following day, Parks was able to report that all of the chairs at Dredthorne had been inspected. None showed any signs of tampering, damage, or rot. Though Robert should have been glad at the news, he was infuriated. He’d searched the secret passage that Gwen had discovered, and found nothing except for the passage itself. Looking at the ceiling where the chandelier had once hung also revealed nothing. His stream of letters and inquiries regarding Christopher and his whereabouts had amounted to nothing. All of his efforts resulted in nothing.

This morning was yet another frustrating example.

“Damn it,” Robert cursed softly.

He rested his forehead on his hands, staring down at the mountain of paperwork. As his father’s health continued to decline, he was left with managing the family’s investments, as well as the investigation into Christopher’s disappearance. But it was the situation at Dredthorne that consumed him. Something was amiss in the old house, and Gwen was on to something with this hidden passage of hers; he was sure of it. But where was the connection? What did chandeliers and chairs have to do with hidden doorways, secret libraries, and concealed corridors? Every day there were more questions, and not a single answer. In another week, he’d be hunting ghosts.

He checked his watch and was relieved. It was time to find Gwen for their daily stroll in the gardens. He looked forward to these walks more than he wanted to admit.

Downstairs he found her at the back of the house, as usual. Though she wore her coat, it fitted her figure to perfection. She smiled when she saw him, her delicate features radiant. Though she’d obviously recovered from the fright of the previous evening, he somehow wished she hadn’t. He’d enjoyed holding her hand and simply having her near.

“You are quite beautiful, Miss Archer,” he found himself saying, then inwardly winced.

What had come over him? She’d allowed him to hold her hand—for just the briefest of moments—not pledge her undying love. In truth, he had no inkling of her thoughts toward him for she had never expressed any. And yet the way her features had paled when she’d thought him injured… Perhaps he had read too much into that.

But as he warred with himself, Gwen simply smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Sheraton,” she said warmly, and took his arm. They made their way toward the glass doors, and exited into the garden. “How has your work been today?”

Robert groaned at the question. “Well, my brother has fallen off of the earth. No one seems to know where he is, and truthfully, I am about to write home and declare that he is missing.”

He’d only delayed this long because of the consequences that he felt would surely come. His mother would have an apoplexy and his father’s fading health would not be able to withstand such news. In short, he could become both an orphan and a man whose only brother had vanished.

“I’m so sorry,” Gwen replied softly, and in her voice Robert heard true sorrow.

As she squeezed his arm, he considered declaring his feelings for her. But the same old obstacle presented itself: his brother had declared himself for her sister, who had accepted him. Until that matter was resolved, there was nothing Robert could do.

They walked through the tall shrubbery and past the kitchen garden in silence as they approached Gwen’s favorite place on their circuit, the mossy pond. The overwintering Mallards there liked to talk back to them as she and Robert chatted on the stone bench. They took their seat but had neglected to bring their little friends the usual bread crumbs. Instead, both they and the ducks sat quietly among the brilliantly yellow witch hazel and the delicate pink blooms of elephant’s ears.

Robert exhaled slowly. “I’m worried about writing to my parents about Christopher,” he confessed.

Gwen’s delicate fingers threaded through his, and he made no move to dislodge them. “When I read Regina’s letter, I thought the world was going to end. My mother cried for days, while my father said nothing. It was frightening and I thought they’d both come undone. Worry absolutely consumed me.” She patted his arm. “But then, after about a week, at dinner, my father looked at my mother and simply said, ‘I never liked Christopher anyway.’”

Robert blinked and stared at her. Only when she could no longer suppress her smile and started to giggle did he begin to laugh as well. Gods it felt good simply to sit and laugh. “You are incorrigible my dear Miss Archer,” he said, still chuckling. “I am sure that your father said no such thing.”

“Ah, but that is what makes my tale all the more entertaining,” she assured him. “For he did in fact say it.”

Now Robert had to frown. “Surely not. I can’t imagine such a thing. Your parents adore Christopher.”

Her smiling eyes met his. “Well the point wasn’t that he didn’t like Christopher. The point was that even when things were looking to be at their worst, my family rallied together. I just know that no matter what has become of Christopher, your mother and father will support you in your search and your efforts.”

“That may be true,” Robert said, the levity now vanished. “But I am afraid that my father may not be able to support anyone for very much longer.”

“Oh, no,” she breathed, gazing up at him from under a furrowed brow. “Your father?”

Robert nodded. “The doctors have told my mother to prepare herself,” he said quietly, then shook his head. “How can one truly prepare oneself for such an eventuality?”

To that Gwen had no answer, though he hadn’t expected one.

The ducks must have become bored or hungry, since they waddled off and splashed into the pond, their orange feet paddling beneath the water. With the coming change of the seasons, they would be off, flying back to the colder climate from which they had come to take shelter here. He cocked his head at them as they swam together, leaving little wakes behind them. It was odd to think of anyone, even ducks, taking shelter at Dredthorne.

“I do know what you mean,” Gwen finally said. “How does one prepare for the inexplicable? For some reason that I cannot fathom, I do not think Regina is going to come back. Perhaps it is an intuition, or perhaps I just despair, but something inside me says that she will not return.”

“She may not return to Renwick,” he said, “but I’m sure she’ll turn up.” He squeezed her hand. “She has a wonderful sister like you to take care of her, and parents who love her. Why wouldn’t she want to come back to that?” He paused for a moment, watching the ducks dive for their food. “I can see why she might not want to come back to Christopher, though. The man snores like a saw cutting wood.” He cleared his throat. “No doubt your father heard him.”

Gwen giggled a bit, a sound that Robert found delightful. As usual, their garden walk had done him a world of good. Sunlight glittered on the surface of the mossy pond like wavy emeralds; the chill of the morning was lifting; and Dredthorne didn’t seem quite as imposing, nor his troubles so pressing, as they did just an hour ago.

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