The Taming of Ryder Cavanaugh (The Cynster Sisters Duo 2)

The maid wrung her hands. “She’s usually about, m’lord, and she likes me to check round about now over what gown she wants to wear to dinner.”

It took the footmen fifteen minutes to quarter the rest of the house.

Meanwhile, Ryder sent for Dukes, the head gardener, who immediately went out to consult with his far-flung crew.

“Her ladyship is definitely not within the house, my lord.”

Forsythe looked like Ryder felt—unwilling to panic yet, but starting to feel the first nibblings of fear. “Send to the stables. She won’t have gone riding, but perhaps she walked down to see her horse.”

At this time of day, that was a long shot, and so it proved.

“We haven’t seen her ladyship at all today, my lord,” Filmore reported.

Dukes strode rapidly back in, an unusual enough action from the normally lugubrious gardener to fix all attention on him. He nodded to Ryder. “One of my lads saw her ladyship walking in the shrubbery, my lord. He was working there. She smiled, spoke a pleasant word, then turned back to the house. Far as he knows, she returned to the east terrace, but this was some time ago, hours at least, and from where he was, he couldn’t see if she actually did come all the way to the house or turned off to somewhere else.”

A chill unlike any he’d ever experienced was seeping into Ryder’s chest. He glanced at Forsythe, Filmore, then back at Dukes. “I want every able-bodied man—assemble them in the forecourt. We need to mount a search.”

“Yes, my lord.” Forsythe looked grim.

“At once.” Filmore saluted and headed for the door.

Dukes didn’t reply, just grimly nodded and followed Filmore. Forsythe sent a footman scurrying but remained to help Ryder set out maps of the estate and surrounding areas.

Somewhat to Ryder’s surprise, Aggie stopped wringing her hands and, jaw firming, whirled and rushed from the room.

In the end, it wasn’t only the men who assembled in the forecourt but all the younger women on the staff as well, recruited by Aggie, and with the approval of Mrs. Pritchard all ready to do their bit to find their missing mistress.

That gave Ryder some leeway; dispatching the women in pairs to search every inch of the grounds left him with enough men to send riders to the nearby farms as well as organize comprehensive sweeps through the surrounding woods and fields.

Even though this was Wiltshire, as calm and gentle a county as any in England, it was nevertheless possible that some accident had befallen Mary, even if she hadn’t ventured into the woods.

That was what he was hoping, what they were all thinking. A fall, a twisted ankle—anything of that sort would be preferable to the alternative.

That something more heinous had befallen her.

It was full light when they started the search, but within the first hour, the sun started to dip, and the shadows cast by the trees lengthened. But light enough remained and the search continued, with each group reporting back to the house as they finished their allotted area, only to have Ryder send them out to another as yet unsearched locale.

Raventhorne was a large estate; covering it was going to take time. Ultimately even Forsythe, born and bred on abbey lands, left to add his number to the searchers.

Dusk was insidiously closing in when a tap on the library door had Ryder lifting his head—only to have his leaping heart crash as Mrs. Pritchard looked in. “Yes?” He tried not to sound too harsh.

“My lord, I’ve Dixon’s lad here, from Axford, and I think you need to hear what he has to say.”

Frowning, Ryder straightened from the maps he’d been poring over. “Dixon?”

“The fishmonger.” Mrs. Pritchard stepped across the threshold and beckoned someone in.

Ryder tried to blank his expression—the best he could do in the circumstances—as a boy peeked aroun

d the door, then immediately ducked his head. Ryder struggled to find an unthreatening tone. “Dixon, the younger, is it?”

The boy ducked his head again. “Aye, m’lord.” He glanced up at Mrs. Pritchard, who waved him on toward the desk.

Clearly unsure, the boy advanced three steps, then halted.

Ryder looked at Mrs. Pritchard.

“Davy here brought our delivery just now and happened to mention delivering to the Dower House yesterday.”