Page 41 of The Widow Wore Plaid

He’d expected the barrage of questions and deflected them as best he could. “The groom has been to Fodderty and back without any trace of them being found and the word of Mr. Ross that there was no appointment scheduled. So why would Kinellan or Jane say that they were going to the church in Fodderty?”

“He first told us that last night, Lathbury.” Brack stepped up, St. Just right beside him. “He suggested our excursion to the Height with our wives, but said he and Jane couldn’t come as they had to go to the church.” But Brack’s pinched mouth said something else was afoot. “I thought it odd because we were told by our wives they would be unavailable as they were discussing the wedding with Jane all afternoon.”

“When we pointed that out,” St. Just took up the tale, “he said he’d forgotten to tell Jane they needed to go to the church, so they would be able to accompany us.”

“Jane did say as we were leaving that they were going to the church.” Charlotte cut her gaze over to Elizabeth. “But she sounded strange when she said it, don’t you think, my dear?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth nodded. “A bit like she was trying to make us think she regretted not going with us, but actually glad to be going with Kinellan. Although that’s only normal, to want to be going out with the man you love on an errand about your wedding.”

“So if they did not go to the church, where did they go and why?” Georgie looked up at Matthew, as if he surely would have the answers.

The chatter had gotten loud once more.

“All right, everyone, listen.” Matthew tried to clear his head. “If we assume that the trip to the church was a ruse so they would not have to go with the rest of us, I think it is safe to assume they wanted to spend some time alone together, as I suggested earlier.”

Everyone nodded, including Grant, so he continued. “Does anyone know a place they might have gone to spend time alone . . . with each other?” He turned to Grant. “A gamekeeper’s cottage, or an abandoned barn, perhaps?”

“Nothing comes immediately to mind, my lord. Allow me to question the staff, including the coachman and grooms. There are some who have been here much longer than I have and may know more about the property.” Grant kept darting glances at the door, as if he couldn’t wait to be gone.

“Very good, Grant. I take it we will be going in to dinner without the host and hostess shortly?”

“Yes, my lord. It’s five past the normal time.” The butler looked stricken anew.

“Ring the gong then and we will carry on as best we can. Consult with the staff and as soon as dinner is over, we’ll reconvene here. Come to us as soon as you have news.” Matthew nodded, dismissing the distressed servant, and took Fanny’s hand. “Now, my love, can you play hostess to my host this evening at dinner?”

“Of course.” Her lips smiled, but the rest of her face was beset with worry. “What do you think—”

“None of us knows for now, so smile and especially do not let Kinellan’s relatives know that he is missing.” The dinner gong sounded, and he offered her his arm.

“So what will you tell them? If you’re sitting in Kinellan’s seat they will know something is amiss.”

“I suppose I will have to pray for inspiration, my love.” Matthew stepped out of the drawing room and headed down the hall to the ancient, imposing Kinellan dining room. “Wish me luck.”

Chapter Eighteen

The late afternoon light had begun to wane in earnest when Gareth took up his position once more at the back window. Since he couldn’t be sure now where the gunman could be hiding, he’d have to change from the back to the front door throughout the night. Perhaps that would help keep him awake, but his strength was already waning, despite the food he’d just eaten. He peered out into the gathering gloom but could identify no movement. The moon would be up in an hour. It was going to be a long night, no matter what.

“Here.” Jane set the chair beside the window. “You need to rest as much as you can. I’ll sit at the other window.”

“You will do no such thing.” Gareth took his eyes off the landscape long enough to shoot his intended a baleful glare. “You need to stoke the fire as best you can, then sit down in front of it, which seems the safest place for you.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Jane narrowed her eyes. “Then I can guarantee you will not be fit to travel in the morning. You cannot wear yourself to a frazzle and expect to be able to dance a jig down the trail.”

“I do not expect to dance a jig—not in the morning or anytime soon—but we will be able to leave here in the morning if we can keep that madman from storming in during the night. What we will not do is risk you getting shot standing near the window.” Gareth wanted to remain standing, to emphasize his authority, but he had to drop into the chair as his strength ebbed.

“If I stay well back, I don’t see that I will be in any more danger than you.”

Lord, the woman was as stubborn as they came, and he loved her the more for it, but he couldn’t fight this battle now. “Jane, I cannot stand watch and focus my attention on him when I will be worrying over your welfare. Please, I beg of you. Do as I ask.”

“Hmph.” She whirled around, stalked to the fireplace, grabbed the poker, and commenced stirring up the ashes as though she were trying to send them airborne.

With a sigh, Gareth turned back to the window just as it exploded inward.

Glass flew everywhere. Jane shrieked and darted toward him. Gareth automatically threw his arm up to shield his face and pushed the chair backward, with such force it tipped over, spilling him onto the floor. That was enough, by God.

Jumping to his feet, Gareth snagged his fallen pistol and bolted for the door. He tore the bar upward so hard it rebounded and hit his good shoulder on the way down, making him grunt, but slowing him not at all. He raced out onto the back stoop, scanning the gloomy woods—and was rewarded with a flurry of movement to his left. Throwing his arm up, a smooth and liquid motion from so many years of practice, Gareth fired instinctively.

A pain-filled yelp from the woods brought a smile of satisfaction to Gareth’s lips and he hurried back inside. “I think I got him.”