Page 63 of Winterset
Where was she?
I went to the kitchen to inquire of Mrs. Owensby, butshewasn’t there either. I called for Bexley, but he had disappeared too. I walked the house looking for them, but they weren’t in the drawing room, the dininghall, or the library. My study, too, was empty. As was the gallery, all four bedchambers, and the attic.
A pit formed in my stomach.
Were theygone?
Had they alighted in the night and left all behind?
Mrs. Owensby had said Miss Lockwood had nowhere else to go, no family or friends with whom she could seek refuge. Mrs. Owensby, Bexley, and Winterset were all Miss Lockwood had.
Despite my threat of punishment, Mrs. Owensby had likely told Miss Lockwood I’d discovered her at the first opportunity. Probably as soon as I’d retired to bed last night. Hence, the reason for my peaceful night’s sleep.
My throat tightened.
What had I done?
Mrs. Owensby believed Miss Lockwood’s life was in danger if she left Winterset, and I’d pulled pranks on the poor lady. My ultimate goal was to meet Miss Lockwood, but I’d gone about it all wrong. I should have attempted tocoaxher from the shadows, notfrightenher from them.
Devil take me!
Miss Lockwood could be in danger.
Where would they have gone?Howwould they have gone?
Could they have taken my horses? The horses would provide them with a speedy getawayandprevent me from following after them. I ran to the stables and stopped short when I saw Bexley grooming my mount. If they’d fled, they had not taken my horseorBexley.
Two women traveling without protection? I could not even bear to think about what harm might befall them. And I would be at fault.
“Where is Mrs. Owensby?” I asked curtly.
Bexley looked up from his task in surprise and gave a hasty bow in greeting. “Town, I’d say. She normally shops for provisions on Monday morning.”
I narrowed my gaze on him. I thought Mrs. Owensby would have told him I’d discovered Miss Lockwood. But he seemed none the wiser. “Did you see her this morning?” I asked.
Bexley thought for a moment. “No, sir. But I believe she laid out your breakfast tray for Charlie to take to you this morning.”
A biscuit with butter and jam and an apple. Something she easily could have laid out the night before.
“Is there something amiss, sir?” Bexley asked.
I opened my mouth to explain that they were missing but closed it. Could I trust Bexley? Did he know about Miss Lockwood? Or was it only Mrs. Owensby who was protecting and hiding her? I’d promised Mrs. Owensby just yesterday that I wouldn’t tell anyone about Miss Lockwood’s existence. If Bexley didn’t know they were missing, there was likely a good reason.
“No,” I said finally. “Nothing is amiss. I only wished for something else to eat. You may go about your work,” I said and left the stables.
It didn’t make sense. Miss Lockwood was smart; Mrs. Owensby too. They had to know their chances of survival were better here with me than outside Winterset alone.
They must still be here. If Bexley was to be believed, Mrs. Owensby would return from town later today. If not, I would know soon.
I needed only to be patient.
Attempting to distract myself, I went about my work, making plans for Winterset’s repairs. Hours passed, and when I’d nearly given up hope of ever seeing Mrs. Owensby or meeting Miss Lockwood, Mrs. Owensby appeared at the servants’ gate, her cart full of provisions.
I hurried outside. “Where is she?” I asked. “Where is Miss Lockwood?”
Mrs. Owensby eyes widened at the mention of her ward’s name, and she hurried me inside the kitchen.
“Where is Miss Lockwood?” I asked again.
