Page 44 of The Defiant Governess
“Yes ma’am. No one has seen the lad. Oh, whatever shall we do?”
“Let me think.” A note of concern had crept into her voice, and she stood in indecision before the nervous maid.
“What’s the matter?” Saybrook had moved to the doorway of the library. His voice was low and a bit hoarse.
Mrs. Fairchild turned to face him and nearly reached out her arms to comfort him, just as she had so many times when he was a small boy, as she looked so drawn and saddened. “It’s Peter,” she managed to mumble. “He’s not to be found anywhere, andhe told Mary early this morning that he was meeting you.” A pause. “You haven’t seen him?”
“No.”
“Oh dear,” she said softly. “No doubt he is around somewhere, but it is unlike him to be devious.” Clasping her hands together, she quickly added, “I’m sorry we’ve disturbed you, Mr. Edward. We shall take care of it.”
Saybrook’s heart gave a lurch. Of course Peter would be devastated, too. In his own grief, he had been too selfish to realize that the boy would need comforting as well.
“I shall speak to Henry. If you are sure he is not somewhere in the house, I think we should begin looking around the estate.” Saybrook sighed. He had a feeling he knew exactly what the boy was up to.
Jane lookedout the window with unseeing eyes as the coach lurched along its way. It was badly sprung and even though the road had become less rutted since they had turned off of the country lanes, the passengers were still jostled together with uncomfortable frequency. However, she hardly noticed the bumps and heaves, so intent was she on holding back the flood of tears that threatened to burst forth at any moment.
The numbness was wearing away, giving way to a sense of loss so painful she felt she could hardly breathe. Her father had been right, she thought miserably. Her reckless behavior had finally ended in disaster, though of a different sort than he had imagined. True, her reputation would be in tatters if it became known she had lived at Highwood with the marquess in residence, but it was her heart that bore the damage now. Perhaps she should have told Saybrook of her masquerade andtrusted that he would have understood. But instead, she had been too cowardly, too proud to risk facing his approbation.
And so she had let her impetuous tongue lash out and wound him beyond all bounds. She could see his face again in that awful moment—the instant of searing pain before his features froze into an expression so cold and hard that it chilled her even now to recall it. It was the last look she had seen of him before he had turned and left her.
How he must hate her.
A single tear ran down her cheek. Jane dabbed at it quickly, hoping no one had seen it. However, no one was paying the least attention to her.
She would give anything to take back those cruel words and the hurt she had caused. Her chin sank to her chest. Maybe it would be best she put aside her own notions and began to behave as Society expected. Maybe she should bow to her father’s wishes and marry the oh-so proper Duke of Branwell and spend her days being a dutiful wife. Maybe in time she would learn to be satisfied with that.
If only she could forget a pair of flashing sea-green eyes.
The coach rolled to a halt at a small inn and the rest of the passengers climbed out stiffly, grumbling heartily about how long it had been since the last stop. Jane had been unaware of how long they had been traveling. However as she climbed down, it was clear from the angle of the sun that the time was well past noon. Though she hadn’t yet eaten anything, she didn’t feel in the least hungry and decided to use what little time she had to stretch her cramped limbs.
Ignoring the curious stares of the stableboys and ostlers, she began to walk slowly around the perimeter of the stableyard, still consumed by her own concerns. It took a moment to realize someone was calling her name. With a start she looked up to seeHenry reining in his lathered horse, a look of worry creasing his lined features.
“Why, Henry! Whatever are you doing here?” She suddenly noticed his expression. “Is something wrong?” she cried, her stomach tightening into a hard knot.
“It’s Master Peter, Miss Jane,” answered the groom. “He’s gone missing and, well, His Lordship thought we had best check …”
“I would never!” she gasped.
“No, Miss, of course not. But we think he hid in William’s coach, and perhaps he did the same here.”
He dismounted and walked quickly to the mail coach, casting an appraising eye over the outside baggage.
“If you will just hold Athena for me, Miss, I’ll climb up and make sure.”
Jane stood holding the reins while Henry made his search. So much could happen to a small boy out alone. He could fall in a ditch and drown, or be grabbed by those unspeakable people who kidnapped children to work in the mines up north ….
“Well, he ain’t up here, as I suspected, but we had to be sure,” said Henry as he climbed down. “Sorry to disturb you, Miss. I, well, as I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye earlier, I wish you well. We shall miss you in the stables.” The groom ducked his head and blushed at speaking so directly to someone of the opposite sex.
“I’m coming with you,” said Jane suddenly.
“But Miss!” Henry looked even more discomforted. “I don’t think … that is, His Lordship didn’t say anything about …”
Jane had already sprung into action. Ordering a startled ostler to remove her trunk from the coach, she hurried into the inn, returning a short time later with a satisfied look on her face. “The post boy is saddling a horse for me. It shan’t be a minute.”
“But Miss,” he repeated. “You can’t!” He waved his arms helplessly. “Besides, you ain’t dressed for riding!”
“I shall manage quite well.” Jane startled the ostlers even further by demanding a leg up and then tucking her voluminous skirts between her legs so she could ride astride. Their eyes widened at the sight of very well turned pair of ankles set firmly in the stirrups.
