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“Truly, sir, best wishes,” Matthew echoed, taking the next opportunity to shake William’s hand.
The three men offered their congratulations to Louisa, too, as did Jim and Sally.
“Oh, Master William, our dear, dear boy,” Mrs. Holly said, hugging him too. William couldn’t remember receiving so many hugs before. “What a happy day this is! I couldn’t be more thrilled.”
Beyond her shoulder, William could see Mrs. Brill take a mumbling Mary firmly by the hand and leading her out of the room. William started toward them, but Louisa put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Let them be,” Louisa said. “I’m sure her mother will take care of her.”
“Lady Louisa is right,” Mrs. Holly said. “No need to worry. This is a time for celebration.”
“I’ve never seen Mary like that,” he murmured. “And the wedding is not a surprise to her—only the fact that it will be here and sooner than expected.” He really ought to check on her. He couldn’t think of what he’d said in his speech that would cause such a reaction from her.
The staff eventually dispersed and went about their duties, and Louisa and her mother began discussing plans for the wedding while her father and brothers talked about the estate and what Halford had learned during his stay here. William tried to take part in the men’s conversation but found himself distracted by Mary’s reaction.
“And what do you think about that, Farleigh?”
“Er, what?” William said. He wasn’t sure who’d asked the question.
Halford rolled his eyes.
“Halford suggested turning some of the farmland into additional pastureland for grazing and bringing in more milkers,” Lord Ashworth replied.
“Oh. Good. Yes, more milkers.” Good heavens, he’d not even realized it was his soon-to-be father-in-law, Lord Ashworth, who had spoken to him. That was imprudent on his part, especially if he wished to stay on his lordship’s good side. Had Mary been distressed by the formal announcement? Perhaps she’d been overly excited about the prospect of a wedding at Farleigh Manor. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps Mary didn’t know how to express—
“Go and take care of the matter, Farleigh,” Lord Ashworth said with a sigh. “You’re going to be worthless in any discussion we have until you are assured that the girl is all right. Halford mentioned that the two of you grew up together and have a special bond, that she’s like a sister to you. Go on, then. Be off with you.”
“Thank you, Lord Ashworth.” He took his leave of the men, went to Louisa’s side to bid her and Lady Ashworth adieu, and made his way swiftly to the kitchen.
William found Mrs. Brill alone sweeping the kitchen floor. “Where is Mary?” he asked.
“That foolish girl,” Mrs. Brill said, shaking her head as she continued to sweep. “I says, ‘Mary, what’s got into you, luv?’ And she says, ‘I got him,’ over and over again—don’t have a clue what she meant by that—and then she rushes out of here as if there was fire at her heels.” Mrs. Brill brushed the dirt into the dustpan and emptied it into the bin. “She’ll be back when she’s good and ready though, like she always does. Don’t you worry.”
Louisa approached him after he’d concluded his search of the main floor. “You haven’t found her?” she asked, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Have you checked her room?”
Blast him for a fool. “Let’s go see, shall we?” He took Louisa’s hand in his, comforted to have her with him, and they went upstairs to the servants’ quarters, knocking on each door and calling Mary’s name. Again, there was no response.
With few options left to consider, he ascended the narrow stairs that led to the attic, Louisa following closely behind, and opened the attic door, holding up the lantern so he could see the shapes and shadows. “Mary,” he called. “Mary, Louisa and I are looking for you. Are you here? Please answer me!”
Nothing.
He went inside and lifted the dust covers to peer underneath them and searched behind boxes. “Mary! Where are you?” He waited, listening intently. Still nothing.
Discouraged, he closed the door, and they turned to leave.
Louisa suddenly stopped. “Shh,” she whispered. “I thought I heard something.”
He froze in place.
“When Mrs. Holly showed me the attic before, I thought I heard scuffling sounds,” Louisa whispered. “I assumed it was a mouse hiding in the wall, and I didn’t think any more about it. Do you think what I heard was Mary? Are there any other rooms up here?”
“Not that I know of . . . but perhaps . . .” He handed the lantern to Louisa and began feeling the wall of the corridor opposite the attic door, looking for anything that might indicate a hidden cubby or small room that had been forgotten over the years. It was possible, he supposed. There had been a faint sound when he’d inspected the attic upon returning too.
His fingers searched, starting at the top of the wall near the ceiling and working downward and back and forth. He could feel nothing that stood out beyond the normal irregularities in the wood and plaster. He crouched down, searching farther . . .
That was when he spied it—the tiniest thread of light escaping where the floor met the wall. It was so slight, it was difficult to see and would be easily missed.
Louisa crouched beside him and held the lantern close while William painstakingly ran his fingers over the wall once more. It took several minutes, but he eventually found what he was looking for—a small notch cleverly hidden behind the joining of two wallboards, which he’d missed the first time, that connected to a lever of some sort.
