Chapter 28

Sebastian's journey home was marred with irritation as he tried to calm himself. He was determined not to carry his anger through the gates of Greystone Castle for when he saw Virtue again, so he dedicated every ounce of his will to shedding the remnants of fury before he reached home.

And Ralph Merchant was the cause for this rage that had nearly consumed him. His reluctance to meet Merchant had been strong—having vowed never to stray from Virtue's side again, the journey seemed an unwelcome necessity. Yet Ralph had been insistent, pleading with urgency and promising that the matter was of utmost importance and that Sebastian would not regret his decision to come.

Needless to say, none of that was true.

"What do you mean, there has been no progress?" Sebastian had pressed, certain he was misunderstanding his friend.

"Just as I told you," Ralph sighed as he sipped casually at his drink; one leg folded, perfectly at ease. "We all knew Wellington had fallen in with some unsavory crowds—the fortunes he'd gathered after the war didn't come from nowhere. But they refuse to speak with me, you know this."

"And what is it you propose I do?" Sebastian's patience was wearing thin.

"What we ought to have done weeks ago," Ralph snapped suddenly. "Ride for London. Speak with these connections—not just as a Duke but as the former commander of the Royal Dragoons, they would hardly turn you of all people down. They're after money, that's all. Money I don't have, but you, with your new marital connections, surely do."

Sebastian clenched his jaw as he ignored the slight at his wife... barely. "You couldn't have relayed this through correspondence?"

Ralph looked at him flatly. "Pardon me, but no, I could not. You have been sequestered in your castle for the last fortnight. And for what? Because your wife suffered some minor ailment? Really?"

Sebastian took a deep breath. Forced the spike of anger down. "She was poisoned, Ralph. It was not some minor ailment. And she is still recuperating—I will not leave her side for London, not again."

"But she is still breathing," Ralph pressed, his tone urgent. "Unlike Simon—you owe it to him, Sebastian. If not for his memory, then for Jasper's."

"Don't—" Another deep breath, his peripherals blurring. His gaze honed in on his friend. "Don't speak to me about Jasper."

"Why not?" he exclaimed with a scornful flick of his wrist. "Oh, it is all fine and dandy to claim you care about what happened. But the moment you have an opportunity to act, to atone for your past indiscretions, you falter! I am quite led to question whether you ever truly cared a fig about Jasp—-"

That was about the time that Sebastian vaulted viciously across the table toward the man.

Riding home thirty minutes later, Sebastian's thoughts were mired in uncertainty about how to proceed with Ralph. He would need to reconcile with his friend after the thrashing he had handed out, and sooner rather than later. But while he would do that, while he planned to, as he neared his home, his thoughts shifted wholly toward Virtue.

It was those thoughts that ultimately calmed Sebastian as he reached Greystone—and by the time he unsaddled his horse in an empty stable and strode through the side entrance, he had all but forgotten the way he had beaten one of his closest friends simply because he did not like the words coming out of his mouth. Sebastian's temper had come a long way, but it was all too clear to him that it still had some ways to go.

Nevertheless, he entered the castle in far better spirits than earlier. Upon stepping through the side entrance, however, the usual tranquility of the place was conspicuously absent, replaced by an air of disquiet and disorder. Maids and footmen scurried about with urgency, their expressions marked with concern and their whispers filled with an anxious edge.

The castle, typically a picture of orderly grace—cool and tempered, silent and discreet—now seemed to buzz with a nervous energy. Sebastian attempted to wave down a maid in her hurry, but before he could even open his mouth, she had hastened down the corridor, leaving him still puzzled and increasingly alarmed.

His heart rate quickened as he pushed deeper into the foyer. He had planned to call for Virtue immediately upon his return, perhaps take another short turn about the gardens considering she had been inside all day, but now, he was utterly at a loss. Before he could proceed any further down the entrance hall, Lucy suddenly emerged from the top of the grand staircase, rushing towards him with a dark countenance that had his heart pounding in dread.

"Your Grace!" she cried out, her face a vision of panic and despair. Her very presence had Sebastian's stomach twisting, for he feared he did not need telling why she looked so worried. "It is Virtue! I don't know how—I left her on her own for but a moment, and—"

The words struck him like a physical blow. "Where is she?" He did not wait to hear her response, making for the stairs.

The maid almost fell to her knees, breathless in panic and clutching at her chest. "I checked. She is not there!"

Sebastian's foot froze midstep, and he looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean she is not—then where is she?" He cast his face about frantically as if half-expecting to see Virtue appear from around the corner.

"Gone… She… is gone."

He balked, almost tried for a nervous chuckle, for the idea seemed too absurd to accept. "Gone? Gone where—speak sense, woman!"

"That is just it!" She scrambled up the steps, her dress catching beneath her feet, causing her to stumble to her knees at Sebastian's legs. Rather than rising, she clung to him, her grip tight with fear. "I do not know, Your Grace! I was in the kitchen, brewing some tea and when I went to find her, she had seemingly disappeared!"

Sebastian took a deep, steadying breath, trying to quell the rising panic, reasoning that this was nothing—Virtue was possibly just being rebellious and likely had simply left for a stroll. "You have scoured the gardens?"

"Yes!"

"The stables?"

"Of course!"

"And—"

"She is nowhere on the lands, Your Grace! We have all searched everywhere! And... and... and..."

"What?" He dropped onto his haunches and grabbed Lucy by the arms, shaking her. "What is it?"

"One of the gardeners saw her last. She was strolling through the gardens alone, he claimed. He saw her making her way around the narrow path in the gardens leading to the western side of the castle, but lost sight of her before she returned."

"The western side of the castle…?" He pictured the path that skirted that portion of the grounds. It ran between the keep and the walls that surrounded the estate, a perfectly safe place to venture even if one was alone. That was until he remembered something else.

Sebastian released Lucy's arms and staggered back, collapsing onto the staircase as the foyer seemed to tilt and whirl around him. The ceiling appeared to drop, and the stairs seemed to fall away beneath him. In that moment, the world itself seemed to crumble into oblivion, engulfing him in a darkness as profound as the sea.

"There is a gate down that side of the grounds…" he said, almost to himself, as if in a dream. Or worse, a nightmare. "One that leads away from the lands."

"I know, Your Grace! And… and…" The maid stammered uncontrollably, no need to finish her thought because Sebastian knew what she was going to say.

"It was open…" he whispered, the words escaping him like a sigh of despair.

"It was open!" she cried. "We searched beyond the gate, but Virtue is nowhere to be found! She has disappeared!"

It was impossible to imagine. Incomprehensible to fathom. Beyond anything that Sebastian might have considered. Yes, he worried for Virtue's safety. And yes, he hadn't wanted to leave her because he thought the sickness might take her again and he wouldn't be there to help. But this?! Nothing could have prepared him for it and thus he had no idea what to say, do, or think.

His wife, his love, his very soul had been taken from him and he hadn't been there to stop it.