Page 135 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
How could she have disappeared just like that? How was it possible that she’d suddenly gone missing?
Rationally, I knew there was an explanation. An emergency somewhere. Something that needed fixing right now. She always answered her phone, and it was completely impossible for her to just disappear into thin air.
But my heart wasn’t rational. Neither was the part of my brain it controlled.
In the last five minutes alone, she’d been in a car accident, broken down somewhere with no signal, been attacked by crows, and was being kept captive in someone’s wine cellar.
Then again, she might be grateful for the break in a wine cellar this close to the wedding.
I took a deep breath and called Hazel. “Do you know—”
“If you’re calling to ask about my sister, then I don’t care,” Hazel snapped. “The answer is no, whatever it is you want.”
Beepbeep.
Did she just hang up on me?
I blinked at my screen. Yep. She hung up. She didn’t even let me finish my sentence.
What the fuck was that? Had they not made up after they fell out last night? Had they fought again?
Julian’s name flashed on my screen, and I dragged the green circle up before hitting the speakerphone button. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey, sorry about that just now.” The sound of a door closing echoed down the line. “It’s been a long day. What did you call Hazel for?”
I rested my wrist on the steering wheel, holding the phone in front of me as I leant my head back against my seat. “Do you know where Sylvie is? She told me she’d be at the town hall, but there’s nobody there. I haven’t seen her in town, and her car wasn’t on the drive when I made a delivery out that way an hour ago.”
“Ah, yeah. No, no idea.”
There was a reluctance in his tone, like he was hiding something from me.
“Julian? What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s just…” He sighed. “They had another fight today. A huge one, from what I’ve heard, but Hazel won’t talk about it.”
“Which means it’s her fault,” I said without thinking. “Shit. That was an inside thought. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I figured that much for myself.” He snorted. “Joanna said to just leave it, but I don’t know. Seems like a bad one. Even Nana is stomping around glaring at everyone.”
If her grandmother was pissed, it was bad. “Has she got any idea where Sylvie might be?”
“No. All I know is she went to get coffee with your mum. Hazel left before they got back, and Joanna only said they finished up what they were doing. She had no idea where she went after that, and all Sylvie said was that she had stuff to do.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “All right, thanks. I’ll go and talk to my mother. Can you let me know if she comes back?”
“Of course. Text me if you find her, preferably before Nana burns something down.”
“Will do. Talk to you later.” I hung up, tossed my phone into my lap, and started the car.
There was only one place Sylvie could be right now.
Castleton Manor.
I’d bet my last quid that my mother had scooped her up and dragged her back home. I knew all about her difficult childhood with my aunt—one that paralleled Sylvie and Hazel’s relationship—so it was almost certain that Mum had imparted some of her wisdom at some point.
I just wish one of them had told me.
Sylvie, sure. If she was upset, it made sense that she didn’t say a word, but my mother could have used even a smidgen of her brain to tell me.
