Page 100 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Not now, Trudy,” the duchess called but Nicholas waved her inside.
“Yes. I wish to know about Miss Rose. How does she fare?”
Trudy glanced at the duchess and captain uncertainly but neither met her eye.
“I am waiting on a response!” Nicholas boomed, a peculiar feeling stabbing through him. “Where is she? Why is my inquiry met with silence?”
He hobbled around the side of the room, his concern overriding his weakness.
“If you will not answer, I will find her myself.”
“You cannot,” Balfour sighed, shaking his head in pity. It was only then that Nicholas realized the man was wearing one of his father’s suits. A wave of sweat washed over him simultaneously as he took in the dapper waist coat and cravat, his breeches too large about his sinewy hips.
He is quite literally half the man my father was. How dare he wear his attire? How could mother permit such a display?
Nicholas wondered what else had happened while he slept the days away.
The captain seemed to notice his brazen, awed stare and met Nicholas’ eyes with a certain smugness which chilled the duke.
“I will not ask again,” Nicholas hissed. “Where is Miss Rose?”
“Nicholas, you must rest – “his mother began but he held up his hand, loathing the mere word “rest.”
“I have rested enough,” he snapped. “And I will not rest again until I have seen her.”
“You cannot,” the duchess insisted. “It is not possible.”
“Ballocks!” Nicholas roared, pushing past them. His eyes fell on Trudy as he started for the hallway but the Betty lowered her gaze. Balfour reached out to stop him.
“I fear you are too late,” Balfour sighed. “She is gone.”
Nicholas’ mouth parted, shock flooding his body as he tried to make sense of his meaning.
“Gone?” he choked. “How do you mean, gone?”
Balfour and the duchess sighed together.
“You must not tell the children, Nicholas. They have dealt with enough loss for one lifetime,” the duchess implored him but Nicholas could barely understand her words. The expression on her face told him that the worst had occurred while he had slumbered, oblivious to the fact that the woman he had learned to cautiously love had been taken from him as abruptly as his father.
“No…” he choked, shaking his head. “No…”
Yet it did not matter how many times he uttered the denial; the truth remained the same. Rose had slipped away before he had a chance to have her.
Or save her.
Chapter 33
Rose did not recognize the room where she had been moved but she was certain that she was still inside Rosecliff. It was a windowless, empty space with only a mattress on the floor and chamber pot. No one had bothered to leave her with a drop of water and as the hours ticked by, Rose grew increasingly thirsty and hungered.
Without the outside light to gage time, she hadn’t a notion how much time had passed nor if it was day or night. Her mind was not sharp enough to render sound theories about where she was or when it was but the panic she felt was keeping her alive for the moment.
She could not be certain who had moved her, having woken in the dismal cupboard but as she paced about the locked, cramped quarters like a caged wildcat, she knew it had to be Balfour. Who else could smuggle her so effortlessly from one part of the manor to another, especially without rousing her from sleep? Rose had no recollection of being drugged again but a fresh prick on her arm indicated that she had been laced with laudanum once more and the realization filled her with anger.
Why does he not simply murder me as he has the others?She wondered hatefully.Why would he stop now?
It occurred to her that she would never see Nicholas again, not alive in any case. Perhaps Balfour was merely waiting for an opportunity to kill her. She recalled the conversation she had with Duchess Buford. The gala for Nicholas’ birthday was to commence soon. Guests would be flocking the grounds. Balfour could not dispose of a corpse with ease in the wake of such an event. He would need to bide his time.
Does Nicholas not wonder where I am? Or have they concocted a tale about my whereabouts?
