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“Lack of coin is no impediment. He is an earl. Let us hope he has not gone far,” Lord Wentwell added.
Charity wrung her hands around her fan, twisting it violently. Where would her father have gone off to? If his mind had fallen back into its state of confusion he would be lost for certain. There were days when he did not recognize his daughter’s face, how could he recall the path through the streets that would return him to their residence?
She tried to keep herself calm. The last thing that she wanted to do was raise and alarm and cause a scene at the park. Father would be shamed if his mental incapacities led him to be spoken of as if he were an invalid. His condition was not widely known, at least, not the extent that it had taken hold of him.
“Come,” Lord Wentwell offered his arm. Charity took it without hesitation. His ability to take charge of the situation was just what she needed at the present time. “I shall have my driver take you home,” he explained. “If your father appears there, send word straight away. I shall beg a second seat from my good friend Lord Barton, when I find him. I know he and his sister are here somewhere. I will make a round through the park and look for your father.”
Charity shook her head. She could not leave the park without her father. She feared what it would mean to face her mother’s censure when she had created such a horrible disaster.
“Oh,” she cried. She covered her face with her hands, glad they had reached the row of carriages in the lane and her agony could not be seen by the crowd. “I shall never forgive myself. What if he is in danger?” She looked up at Lord Wentwell with wide, pleading eyes. The thought crossed her mind that she might never see her father again. How would he find his way home if he did not remember who he was? Tears flowed freely down her face.
Again, Lord Wentwell offered to send her home. Charity hated the thought and argued vehemently to remain with Lord Wentwell during his search.
“You cannot,” he said patiently. “First it is a wonder no one has noted our walking together unchaperoned, or your upset, and secondly, someone must check your house for your father. It is possible he had the presence of mind to call a carriage, and he is already home, safe.”
Finally, she was forced to admit that someone did need to check the house and make sure Lord Shalace had not simply gone home. She nodded and accepted the offer. What had seemed like the promise of a perfect day had turned into a disaster.
Charity allowed herself to be handed into the carriage. “If he has returned home, I shall send word.” Another day she might have thought about how the sensation of heat on her elbow the lingered long after Lord Wentwell removed his hand. This day, however, she could think of nothing but her worry for her father. He had once been a savvy, intelligent man who could walk these streets once and memorize the crossroads. These days those moments were few and far between. Now, he was more like to get lost in their own house while looking for a slipper that was on his foot. Charity twisted her fan unmercifully in her hands, and the abused item snapped between her fingers. She tossed it aside, and leaned out the carriage door.
“Lord Wentwell,” she said as she turned a tear-streaked face to the gentleman. “Please find him.”
“I shall.” The gentleman nodded and closed the door between them. With a sharp call to the driver, he send to carriage on its way. Charity felt the wheels lurch forward, and she looked out of the window, anxiously hoping she might catch sight of her father. It was all that she could do to pray and prepare for whatever explanation she might give her mother.
~.~
Chapter Seventeen
When Charity arrived at their spacious townhome in the main district of Bath, she was both relieved and worried to hear that her mother had yet to return. What might happen if the Countess heard whispers of the search? Charity would be in a world of trouble. At the same time, she had none to share her panic with save Jean, who wanted to rally the servants to spread out through the town in search of their master.
“We mustn’t,” Charity replied. “Lord Wentwell is searching. We should not wish for this tragedy to become common knowledge.”
“I shall tell Robert,” Jean said earnestly.
“Tell him to be discreet,” Charity warned. “And we should call for the physician.”
“Of course, milady.”
Once the message was sent to the physician, and Robert was off to help Wentwell search, the ladies agreed to wait by the front window for the arrival of… anyone.
An hour passed and then two. Charity could not help but think that too much time had passed. Something must have gone wrong. Charity’s mother did not arrive which either meant that she was marshalling her forces or still unaware of the trouble. Charity was not sure which she wished were true.
Charity munched on a biscuit but the sustenance did little to calm the knot that had twisted in her stomach. Jean, was surprisingly calm, as she did her needlework. Charity stood and paced. At least, Jean had all the appearance of one who was waiting patiently for any news.
“Perhaps I should send another note to Lord Wentwell asking… well,” Charity admitted, “I am not sure what to ask but this waiting is unbearable. I should rather plod the streets myself than sit by a window and watch the world fall to ruin around me.”
“All shall be right in the end,” Jean murmured but her words held no conviction.
“Perhaps he has come to harm,” Charity worried. She was well past the point of tears. “It shall all be my doing. I shall never forgive myself”
“You could not have known,” Jean replied. “Do not carry this burden, my lady. I assure you, he will be found. You must have faith.”
Charity perched on the edge of the chair beside Jean, but she could not settle herself. She looked out of the window, as if she could will her father home.
~.~
After Neville Collington had Lady Charity safely in the carriage, he scanned the park, looking for Lord Shalace. He had heard of maladies of the mind which affected older people, but he had never been exposed to such until today. He was sure he would be able to find the gentleman and bring him home. After all, he dealt with his brother, Edmund, and the Earl was a good deal older and no doubt less recalcitrant than his own brother. Certainly, he was less robust. The man was elderly. How difficult could it be to find him and bring him home? But first he had to find him.
The thought of Lady Charity’s joy at her father’s return sustained him as he walked through the park, looking high and low. The concert was nearly over by the time he once again met Reg and Patience along with the Beresford brothers and Lady Amelia. Since he had not yet found the Earl, he enlisted their help. Samuel Beresford stood immediately, but his brother Percival expressed some dismay that the Earl may not be able to do his duty in parliament and noted that Lord Shalace had been absent from the stately body for some time due to his illness.
