Page 81 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

“Mrs. Jennings, you mean?” Farah broke the seal open, frowning as she scanned the letter. “It is from Mr. Jennings. I—oh, no.”

“Miss?” Gemma prompted.

“Where is everyone?” Farah was now breathless, her heart hammering in her chest. “Dameer, I mean. And Kalila. Is she still here?”

“I believe they’re taking tea in the garden,” Gemma told her, seeming baffled by Farah’s sudden change in behavior. “Are you all right, miss?”

“I’m quite well,” Farah said in a rush, moving to pull her boots on. “Thank you, Gemma. If you could please have that letter sent to Mr. Beaumont as soon as possible, I would be most grateful.”

Farah tripped out of her bedroom and into the hallway before Gemma could respond, Mr. Jennings’s letter clutched in her hand. Shooting straight out the front door, she spotted her family seated at a round table beneath the shade of an ancient tree. As she moved closer, she saw that Grey was seated among them and, for a moment, all her panic dissolved into nothingness. He was the first to see her, his beautiful eyes locking with her own. Heat began to prick at her cheeks as a smile pulled at her lips. He stood as soon as she approached, even as the others remained seated.

“Finally up, I see,” Dameer said.

Farah forced her gaze away from Grey’s. “I was writing letters upstairs. Where is everyone?”

“If you’re referring to your parents and mine, they went to Heatherden.” Kalila lowered her teacup. “Caroline and Amelia went with them, but only because my father insisted on their seeing the new metalwork that came in from Mosul.”

“I, meanwhile, have just about convinced Mr. Montgomery to visit us at Rosewood once he’s returned to London,” Oliver said, his usual lopsided grin on his face.

Grey nodded at the object in Farah’s hands. “You received a letter?”

He had, naturally, been the first to notice that she’d come here with something to share. It was touching, even though she’d learned to expect nothing less from him.

“Yes! I’ve received a letter from Mr. Jennings.”

“Mrs. Jennings, you mean,” her brother corrected.

“No, mister,” Farah said.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what could Jennings possibly have to say to you?”

“Apparently, Helena had a trip to Gloucestershire planned,” Farah told them. “To visit me.”

Dameer blinked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Kalila let out a sigh. “Because, if I had to hazard a guess, it isn’t true.”

“Exactly,” Farah said, grateful for her cousin’s sharpness. “Helena has always written ahead before visiting. Always.”

“Has Jennings finally cracked, then?” Dameer leaned back in his chair. “Maybe all his failures were too much to handle.”

“He says she was separated from her maid on the way here,” Farah continued, scanning the letter while ignoring her brother. “And he demands to know if she’s been staying with us.”

“Demands?” Dameer repeated. “The cheek of him, demanding anything from us.”

Farah pressed her lips together in exasperation. “That is beside the point.”

“The point is that Helena may very well be missing,” Kalila said with a deep frown on her face.

“They must have been traveling in this direction,” Farah said, accepting the chair Grey pulled out for her. Satisfied that she was now seated, he returned to his own chair, his silent attention tempting her to confess her love right in the middle of morning tea. Swallowing the urge, she returned to the subject at hand. “Helena’s maid wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.”

Kalila hummed in contemplation. “You don’t think the separation was purposeful, do you?”

“As in, Helena decided to stage an escape?” Oliver asked.

Farah bit her lip. Circumstances had seemed rockier than usual between Helena and her husband. It occurred to her that she hadn’t been there, hadn’t made herself available to her friend the way she ought to have. She’d been far too busy chasing some imaginary romance, trying and failing to track down a thief, and falling in love with Grey.

Excuses, all of them. The fact was that she had neglected one of the most important friendships of her life and was now suffering the consequences. The image of Helena wandering the countryside alone left a pit in her stomach so deep she felt as though she could topple right into it.