Chapter 9

How could everything have gone so wrong? William thought as he trudged through the snow. He had intended to return to the house, but as he approached it, he could not face going back to constricted society when all he wanted to do was shout and stomp about. For a man of fifty, that was not acceptable behaviour, even for someone considered an eccentric.

Turning away from the house, he wandered through the gardens until he reached one of the outer gates, which led into the wider woodland on the estate. As soon as the trees embraced him, blocking out the sight of any building or person, William started to calm himself.

Knowing that coming to the house party had been a mistake did not make him feel better. He always needed to see Grace, even though they spoke to each other only when forced to do so and would soon descend into petty arguing, raking over what could never be fixed.

She was such a draw to him that he could not help but put himself in her presence, although as a result, he had withdrawn, cursing his own stupidity at yet another argument between them on so many occasions that he had lost count.

How could he love someone and want to shake them and curse them to the devil at the same time? She was bloody-minded, stubborn and would never admit she was wrong in all her dealings with him, and yet he loved her so much his insides ached.

Dealing with her girls, as she called them, though they were grown women, showed him time and again what a good mother she would have been to their children. He probably would not have been a good father, too intent on working on something or other, but he would have prised himself away from his workshop for her. He would have done anything for her. He snorted to himself because he had even started to believe his own lies; he had not done everything for her. He had looked after himself first.

He still suffered the disappointment of her lack of support. He would never forget the moment he saw her and had known what was about to happen. Her expression had given her away, and the pain in her features and the tears in her eyes did not make hearing the words any less hurtful. She was not going to marry him unless he chose a stable career.

He should have gone into the clergy and made up all sorts of ridiculous sermons, and they would soon have realised their mistake. Yes, sermons on the unrealistic expectations of parents would have made a Sunday morning service interesting.

Thoughts of other absurd tricks he could have inflicted on an unknown congregation made him smile as he walked through the undergrowth. The snow deadened most sounds and he could imagine he was alone in the world. He walked farther than he had intended to, but his musings kept him putting one foot in front of the other. He had to come to some sort of resolution, or he was going to suffer from unrequited love for the rest of his days.

The problem was that he wanted Grace, and now she was to marry that man who could offer everything. Good looks, although he was a bit too wide around the girth, in William's opinion. Pleasant nature, but that could become grating if he was always so damned happy, and who wanted to always be a social butterfly anyway? Why ladies liked men who insisted on grand gestures, he had no idea. What was wrong with a steady-natured, reliable man?

"Because that sounds as boring as hell," William muttered as he walked. "You blasted fool, you have messed it up again. Why the devil did you not tell that popinjay that she was already taken? That you did object to his proposal? Because Grace would have likely drawn your cork if you had, and she would have been right to do so if she has found a man who can care for her as she should be, should have been for the last five and twenty years."

Chuckling to himself at the thought of Grace readying herself to punch him, he did not notice anything amiss in what he thought was just uneven ground until a sickening pain shot through his leg.

Crying out in agony, he tumbled to the floor, casting up his accounts at the severity of the shock. When his stomach was empty, he looked down at his foot and ankle and winced, turning his head away from the mangled mess caused by the well-hidden trap. Knowing that moving would cause more pain but that he could not stay there on the freezing ground, he tried to bend forward to see if he could release the contraption.

Excruciating pain shot up his leg in a tide of agony, and having prided himself on never fainting, William Marsh swooned so dramatically that it would impress even the most practised society miss.

***

As the party gathered for supper, Grace was the first to notice that William was missing. She always knew when he was near her, so as one after the other entered the room with no sign of him, she approached Julia.

"I have not seen your uncle since we were on our walk," she said quietly. "Do you know where he is?"

"No, I do not, I have not seen him either," Julia responded. "Mr Betez said that he had returned to the house long before we did. I expect he has become engrossed in a book and forgotten the time. I will go and hurry him along; you know as well as I that he can lose a day when interested in something."

For some reason, Grace was not content with Julia's response. Yes, William did become distracted, but not when he was expected to socialise at a house party. It was not in his nature to be ignorant, and as the last conversation she knew to have happened was about the possibility of her marrying Mr Betez, was she being too arrogant to think it could have upset William? Probably, but she was worried about him, nonetheless.

Julia soon returned to the drawing room and shook her head as she approached Grace. "There is no sign of him. The servants have not seen him since we left for our outing, but that was hours ago!"

"Is something amiss?" Arabella asked, responding to Julia's expression of worry.

"Uncle William is missing," Julia explained. "This is not like him."

The room soon became quiet as the others realised that there was something wrong. Fanny approached Grace, sharing a look with her, but neither said a word. Linking her arm with Grace's and giving it a subtle squeeze of support, she turned to Julia.

"We need to start searching for him. He could have taken a tumble in the snow if he did not return home," Fanny said. "It is not a good thing for a man of his age to be outside in weather as poor as this."

Grace shot her cousin a look but said nothing. It was true what Fanny had said, but those who cared about William did not need such negativity to add to their worry.

"The servants are carrying out a thorough sweep of the house and outbuildings," Julia said. "I am afraid I did not wait to seek your permission before I started to order your staff around," she apologised to Arabella.

"I am glad you have. Time is of the essence if he cannot be found inside."

"What has happened?" Michael asked, immediately at his wife's side. The others came closer as Julia explained about her missing uncle.

It was not long before the butler, Sullivan, entered and whispered his findings to Arabella. Setting her shoulders, she nodded. "Please beg Mrs Johnson's forgiveness, but our meal is going to be delayed. We need to search outside."

"There is no need for you ladies to venture out; it is icy out there," Albert, Frances's husband, said.

"I doubt any of us would be able to eat or sit around doing nothing," Arabella said.

"There are plenty of us here," Hamish said. "With the addition of a few servants, there are enough to cover a wide area, so you need not accompany us. You might be needed when we find Mr Marsh."

Hugh, Julia's husband, did not respond to Hamish's words, just pulled Florry and Julia close to him. He whispered something to them, and they both nodded before he turned to Michael. "We should go out in pairs. Can you give us each an area of the estate to cover?" he asked.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a map of the estate in our study."

The men left, and there was a silence as everyone mulled over the reality of being out of doors for so many hours. Arabella stirred herself and rang the bell. Once Sullivan entered the room, Arabella smiled at him. "I hope Mrs Johnson was not too angry."

"She understands the need to find Mr Marsh," Sullivan said stoically.

"Can you bring us wine and light refreshments? The Earl of Bryn was correct when he said we might be needed later. We do not feel like eating anything, but we should, as we do not know what attendance Mr Marsh will need when he is found," Arabella said, at which Sullivan nodded and left.

"I will nurse him," Julia said quickly.

"Me too," Florry interjected.

"He will have so many nurses if needed that he will be longing for peace." Arabella smiled. "I am hoping that he has walked further than intended and is resting at one of the nearby farms. It is the likeliest explanation." That the others did not look convinced by her words did not upset Arabella; she knew as they all did that it was unlikely that William would have stayed away from the house had he been able to return.

Sullivan entered the room some ten minutes later, a housemaid following him, both carrying heavily laden trays. There was a decanter of wine with wine glasses taken from the dining room. Laying that on the sideboard, he went to the hallway, returning with another tray. The two trays containing food included cheeses, slices of venison, small bowls of soup, jellied sweets and fruits, along with breads.

"Mrs Johnson thought a more informal arrangement would be best in the circumstances."

By the time he had placed everything to his satisfaction, the housemaid had retrieved plates and forks and left them at the end of the sideboard.

"Thank you, Sullivan, this is perfect," Arabella dismissed him. She quickly poured them each a glass of wine and, with Florry's help, distributed them. "We need this, and then we need to eat. If we do not finish this food off, one of you can face Mrs Johnson. She might have accepted us not being able to sit down to supper without too many dramatics, but if there is anything left on these plates, I am not saying what she might do, and I am not brave enough to find out."

The others chuckled, understanding her words as they all had formidable cooks of their own to contend with. Fanny was the first to approach the sideboard and filled two plates. Her movement stirred the others into realising their own stomachs were empty, and they followed her.

Returning to sit by Grace, she handed a plate to her. "I know you do not feel like it, but you need to eat. Starving yourself is not going to help anyone."

Grace accepted the plate but looked at her cousin with haunted eyes. "What if…"

"No what ifs," Fanny said firmly. "We do not know what has happened, and speculating will not help matters."

Grace smiled wryly. "It is usually me who can keep my head in a crisis; it seems you have taken over my role."

"You are too close to the one who could be hurt," Fanny responded. "It is always the case that our imaginations are worse than reality."

"He left thinking that I was to marry Mr Betez," Grace whispered.

"Have you decided that you are not?"

"I cannot think straight until I know that William is well."

Fanny nodded and turned to her plate of food. "I would expect nothing else."