Kit had risen at her entrance. “What dreadful thing, Mama?”
“Why, whatever has happened to Ryder and his Mary, of course—they’ve disappeared! Everyone at the abbey is no doubt searching high and low, but it seems they’ve vanished.” Dropping her evening gloves and reticule on the table, Lavinia advanced on the three, patently expecting to be hugged and kissed. Kit, Stacie, and Godfrey obliged; if she noticed their uneasiness, Lavinia gave no sign.
Rand, who had followed Claude Potherby in and shut the door, hung back at that end of the room; for his part, Potherby was staring at Lavinia, a puzzled expression on his face. Rand saw it. He looked at Lavinia. “What do you think has happened to Ryder and Mary, Mama?”
Lavinia spread her hands. “How on earth should I know, dearest? Perhaps he took her out driving in one of those ridiculous phaetons of his and overturned, and they’ve both broken their necks.”
“And you don’t think Filmore or the abbey grooms would know?” Godfrey, pale, shook his head. “You know that can’t be right.”
Lavinia flung up her hands. “Well, I’m sure I don’t know, but I can’t see that it matters. Perhaps they went walking and robbers set on them, or they fell down a mine shaft, or off a cliff, or . . . or . . . whatever! The important point is that they’re gone!”
“When did you hear of their disappearance, Lavinia?”
The quiet question from Claude Potherby brought Lavinia up short. Swinging to face him, she frowned, opened her mouth, then closed it and blinked.
Her children all looked at her, watching as, features blanking, she patently tried to work out her best answer.
Looking increasingly ill, Potherby moistened his lips, then, speaking as much to the others as reminding Lavinia, said, “I’ve been staying here for the past two days. We left here this morning at about eleven o’clock to drive to Marlborough to have luncheon there, then drove on to Quilley House later, to have dinner and attend the Hunt Ball. We left a trifle early and drove straight back.” A silent moment passed, then Potherby looked at Rand. “This is the first I’ve heard of Raventhorne’s disappearance.”
Lavinia drew herself up; her face mottling, a sure sign of erupting temper, she looked down her nose at her childhood friend. “I have no idea what you’re hinting at, Claude, but whatever it is, it’s neither here nor there. You may take yourself off—I don’t need you!” With a dismissive wave, she shifted her attention to Rand. “The critical thing—which it appears I have to spell out for you all—is that as something, whatever it is, has happened to Ryder and Mary, then regardless of whatever it is, it’s up to you, Randolph, to take charge at the abbey—it’s too great an estate to be left rudderless, without a master, even for a day!
“Of course, it would have been better if you’d married already—better still if you’d married Mary as I’d intended—but that’s all water under the bridge—”
“What?—wait!” Rand had paled. “What do you mean, you intended me to marry Mary?”
Lavinia looked at him as if he were being unbelievably obtuse. “Why, that I arranged to steer her in your direction, of course. Why do you think she came swanning around?”
Behind the screen, Ryder slanted a glance at Mary’s face, unsurprised to see that her lips were a thin line and her eyes had narrowed to shards.
Petulantly, Lavinia went on, “But then Ryder stepped in and stole her away, and you did nothing to stop him, you foolish boy, but in retrospect she turned out to be more hoity and difficult than I’d foreseen, so perhaps that was for the best. I’m sure I’ll be able to find some nice, complaisant young lady for you once you’ve been installed as the Marquess of Raventhorne, but that’s for later. Now . . .” Swinging around and pointing dramatically toward the abbey, Lavinia declared, “You must do what your father would have wished you to do—you have to get over there and step into Ryder’s shoes and do what must be done!”
Rand held her gaze for a long moment, then his chest swelled as he drew in a breath—and shook his head. “No, Mama—I won’t be stepping into Ryder’s shoes, not now, and most likely not ever.”
Lavinia’s jaw dropped, then temper surged through her. Her eyes flared, all but incandescent with rage. Fists clenching, she closed her eyes, tipped back her head, and all but screamed, “Don’t be so stupid! If he’s gone, then you’re the marquess—and trust me.” Lowering her head, refocusing on Rand, she gritted through clenched teeth, “He is gone, most definitely gone this time, and—”
“Actually, Lavinia”—smoothly rising, Ryder stepped out from behind the screen—“I haven’t gone a
nywhere.” He drew Mary out to stand alongside him. “And neither has my wife.”
The furious choler abruptly drained from Lavinia’s face. Her eyes rounded; utter disbelief was stamped across her features. “No!” The word was all breathless denial. She hauled in a breath. “That is . . .” She clutched her chest. “What I mean is . . .”
Ryder arched his brows. “How did we get away from your henchmen?”
Lavinia jerked as if he’d struck her. She took a step back. Glancing at Rand, then Potherby, she waved her hands, fingers spread as if to ward off the implication. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t?” Ryder considered her, then coolly suggested, “Why don’t we go down to the basement and see what Snickert and your stable hands have to say?”
Lavinia would have backed further, but Kit was there. He reached for her arm, but she jerked away. “No!” She looked at Kit, then at Godfrey beside him, then looked down the room at Rand. “Why are you listening to him? You always listen to him.” She stamped her foot. “I’m your mother! You will do as I say—you will not allow him to speak to me like that.”
No one said anything.
Lavinia glanced at Potherby.
His expression like stone, he met her gaze for only a fleeting instant, then turned to Ryder, met his eyes, and half bowed. “With your permission, my lord, I will leave. This is, I believe, a family matter, and not one I, I do assure you, have any role in, nor wish to have any role in.”
Ryder considered, then nodded. “As you say.” He hesitated, then held out his hand. “I know you’ve been a staunch friend to her over the years, but sometimes being a friend is not enough.”
Lips a tight line, Potherby inclined his head. “Clearly.” He shook Ryder’s hand, then looked at Rand and nodded. “Cavanaugh.” He glanced at the others, inclined his head. At the very last, he looked at Lavinia. Head rising, Potherby drew in a tight breath, then evenly stated, “Good-bye, Lavinia.” With that, he turned and walked out of the room.