Page 42 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
“Now I’m positively enthralled.”
“It just so happens I stumbled upon a house in the woods. It was occupied by a Lord and Lady. They were a most unlikely couple, but I suppose every garden contains a variety.”
“’Tis true.”
“I was invited back for tea, as this couple wanted to discuss some real estate deals. I thought they wouldn’t mind purchasing some of that Scottish property Father has available.”
“Capital idea!”
“At any rate, after a perfectly dreadful tea, whereat the young maid they have employed spilled an entire tepid cup of the stuff all over me, I returned home and made a most unusual discovery. The maid, as it seems, has slipped me this.”
He produced the note for Eric to look at.
Eric looked at him quizzically. “But what does it mean?”
Peter shrugged. “I should think the meaning is plain, though she gave no indication that her situation was dire.”
“You think she is being held against her will?”
“I thought that at first. The word help could be employed in a number of ways, I suppose.”
“Well then,” said Eric, “do you think she’d let on about the direness of her situation were that the case?”
“You make a good point, Brother. I think I will return there tomorrow. I’ve indicated to them that I will require collateral, and they’ve acquiesced, though reluctantly it seemed to me, saying that they’ll have it in time, whatever the meaning of that. I shall go back there, nonetheless. This maid of theirs, you see—”
Eric threw his head back in laughter. “Aha! I suspected my illustrious brother, most noble figure that he is, would not let the crumpet slip the plate!”
Peter lowered his gaze. “That is base, Brother, even for you.”
“Alas,” said Eric, his ears pricking up at the sound of the party approaching the dining hall, “here’s the rest of the lot. We will continue this discussion, no doubt, afterward.”
“I suppose I can be sure of that,” said Peter.
“Oh, most sure.”
Chapter 31
Lord Oliver was perusing his accounting documents when the butler strode in, taking him by surprise. He’d given the staff the day off in order to attend to his work.
“M’Lord, there is a certain Lady Emily Whitcombe here to see you. I’ve taken the liberty of showing her into the drawing room.”
The task before him was a necessary one, for he’d been neglecting his business due to the situation with Madeline. Now, suddenly, all business on his mind faded, and the documents before him became mere tallies of meaningless numbers. He dropped his quill on the desk and rose.
“Thank you, Reese. I’ll be there in a moment. By the way, Reese?”
“M’Lord?”
“You’re not joining the rest of the staff? I sent you all on holiday, and I meant it.”
“Yes, M’Lord. They are all at the water, you see, and I would not want to be accused of impropriety were I to catch a glimpse of the ladies in ... well, you know, M’Lord.”
“Reese, you are a wonderful man, but all too modest for your own good. Go and enjoy yourself on your own if you must. Take a trip into Vauxhall. I insist.”
The stoic butler gave what could only be liberally interpreted as a smile. “Yes, M’Lord. I shall leave at once.”
The butler left, and Lord Oliver went intuitively to the mirror on the far wall. There was no need to do so, a small voice in his head told him, for there was no one here he needed to physically impress.
He made his way to the drawing room, adjusting his cuffs as he walked. He paused before the door, stiffened himself, and then entered. Lady Emily and Lisbelle sat primly on the sofa.
