Page 94 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
“Please, Mama.” Maddy’s sobbing plea was faint behind the door. “Whatever I did, I apologize.”
Rayne imagined it was her tiny fist that pounded futilely at the door, each stroke weaker than the last. The lamp revealed a chair had been jammed against the door. The key still in the keyhole gleamed in the light.
Brock opened his mouth to alert Maddy of their presence. Rayne silenced him by slapping his hand over the younger man’s mouth.
“It could still be a trap. Let’s check the other rooms before we free her.” His sister’s broken sobs tore at him in a manner he never thought possible. Perhaps it was because he could easily place Devona as the frightened woman behind the door. Brutally he shut the interfering thoughts from his mind.
The quick search of the other rooms revealed nothing suspicious. Maddy, too tired to pound on the door and beg, had been reduced to soft, incoherent crying. He removed the chair. The action brought Maddy to the door.
“Mama?”
“It’s Rayne.” The key turned, the door opened, and suddenly his arms were full of a very hysterical, albeit grateful, sister. Her face pressed against his chest, his name a muffled litany.
The men’s gazes met. “She’s not here, Tipton.”
Brock’s grief could not compare with Rayne’s desolation. He pulled his sister from him and gave her a rough shake. “Where is she?”
Confusion and the urgency in her brother’s voice quieted Maddy. “Who? Mama?”
“No. Devona. Has she been here?”
Through swollen red eyes Maddy searched both men’s faces, judging their sincerity. “Why would you expect to find Devona at Foxenclover?”
Brock placed his hand on Rayne’s arm to gain his attention. “Wynne was wrong. We need to get to the graveyard.”
Maddy sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Has everyone gone mad? First Mama, now you two.”
“Tipton, you might want to come down here!” Sir Thomas called out.
His sister in tow, Rayne went downstairs with Brock. Maddy ran into Wynne’s waiting embrace. The mothering comfort brought forth more tears. “Papa is in the drawing room,” Wynne murmured, petting Rayne’s sister’s hair.
“What has happened?”
He heard Maddy ask the question to Wynne as he and Brock went to view Sir Thomas’s discovery. Two maids and Mrs. Poole were lying on the floor.
“Dead?”
Sir Thomas picked up the housekeeper and placed her on the sofa. “No, although they are giving an impressive representation of it. I cannot rouse them. There are three others in the kitchen.”
Brock picked up a discarded teacup and sniffed the contents. “Drugged, I’d guess.”
Rayne had seen enough. “Did you find my mother?”
Sir Thomas’s reply did not hearten him. He returned to the hall where the women had stayed.
Maddy ran to him. Trembling, she grabbed his hands. “Wynne told me everything. You will find her. I feel it.”
“The staff has been drugged, Maddy. What does Jocelyn have to do with all of this?”
She did not flinch, nor did she collapse into tears as he expected. Instead, she held her head up courageously and expelled a shaky breath. “Mama. She said we were celebrating. There was tea, biscuits, and even currant cake.”
He did not give a bloody farthing what was served at their little party. “Then what?”
Her brow furrowed. “Nothing, really. I spoiled Mama’s party by getting sleepy. I thought she locked me in my room to punish me for my unladylike behavior.”
“Not likely,” Brock mumbled, coming up behind them.
Wynne’s lips parted in amazement. “You cannot believe my sister’s disappearance and your mother’s strange tea are related.”
