“A third has gone missing?” Isobel said, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She took the cup Cook offered her and sat next to the maids with a nod of acknowledgment at John. “Who is it this time?”
John straightened importantly. “A scullery maid for the Hendersons. Janet. Not considered reliable.”
The Hendersons were minor country gentry, with a small estate in the neighborhood. They didn’t have as large a staff as the Montgomerys, who were the most prominent family in the area. The fact that one of their few maids had gone missing was troubling. Her absence would have been noticed. Even if she had been unreliable.
“What the devil is going on?” Isobel muttered, forgetting herself.
But only Sarah raised her eyebrows. The others just nodded or shrugged in agreement.
John shook his head. “Except for Lottie, the missing women are not the most dependable sort. Might not have been missed under normal circumstances. Makes you wonder.”
Isobel silently agreed that the circumstances were suspicious. If someone was luring away young women, perhaps to sell, they would have picked ones just like those who’d gone missing. Except for the baker’s daughter, whose disappearance couldn’t be explained away so easily.
If a kidnapping ring was operating in the neighborhood, she had to believe they would have been more careful. All of the girls going missing in such a small and relatively isolated area like this simply called too much attention to the disappearances. Hunting young vulnerable women would have been easier in a city.
Unless something else was going on. Throat tight, Isobel forced herself to swallow her tea as the others speculated, sometimes wildly, on the fate of the disappeared. Sarah’s idea that the girls had been transported to the Colonies to become courtesans was by far the most entertaining.
But sadly not the most likely, Isobel thought before Mary distracted her.
“I’ll be up to ’elp ye dress at quarter to seven Miss,” she said.
“To dress? For dinner?”
“Didn’t you tell her?” Cook asked, scowling at Sarah. Her features smoothed and she smiled. “You’ve been asked to join the family for dinner again. It seems his lordship is feeling better. Had a turn last night. Woke up fit as a fiddle this morning, even went riding.”
Isobel could feel the color draining from her face. “Is that right?” she asked, breathlessly.
Was it possible?
Of course it was. She’d seen the darkness seeping into Matteo’s aura herself. She’d tried to ignore what that had meant, but the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach had been there from the moment she had seen him. And her current tension had been a constant companion since she’d learned of the missing baker’s daughter.
The coincidence between the missing girl and the man’s dramatic recovery was too great. She’d been hoping she was wrong, but she couldn’t keep lying to herself. Matteo was responsible for the disappearances.
And if he was, those girls were dead.
“Are you all right?” John was standing in front of her, his hand on her shoulder.
Startled, Isobel suppressed a shudder. “I’m fine,” she lied.
Cook pushed John out the way. “You’re as pale as a sheet gel. Do you feel ill?”
Isobel took a shaky breath. “Er, yes. I think so. Maybe I’ve caught Amelia’s cold.”
The little girl, used to the milder climate of the south, had been suffering from a small cold all week. Isobel never got sick from those sorts of minor complaints, but it was too convenient excuse to ignore.
“That’s a pity. Why don’t you head upstairs to your bed, and I’ll send up a toddy. Maybe you’ll feel better in time for dinner,” Cook said, as Isobel rose unsteadily from the table.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to dine with the family,” Isobel said slowly, “Would one of you please convey my regrets?”
Cook clucked her tongue. “Mary will inform the Master,” she said. “It’s such a shame, you falling ill just when your suitor is better.”
“He’s not her suitor,” John scowled, and Isobel shot him a grateful smile.
“No, he’s not,” she agreed before taking her leave.
The children’s afternoon lesson was going to be canceled.
***
Isobel sighed with relief as the dinner hour came and went. No one had questioned her ’illness’.
She’d been in bed since mid-afternoon, truly exhausted in both body and mind. The afternoon’s revelation had been difficult to stomach, but she knew the truth now.
But what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t stay in bed indefinitely. The Garibaldis were scheduled to stay on for another week at least. How could she look Matteo in the eye and not reveal what she knew about him? How could she look at him at all without screaming?
Maybe it was time for her grandmother to die...again. Surely Sir Clarence wouldn’t begrudge her a visit home to bury her grandmother? When he had questioned her about her background, she had been vague about her relations. He would have no idea the woman had passed long ago.