Cook placed the crocks on the worktable with a heavy thump, then wiped her work-reddened hands on the apron lashed around her ample waist. “Old Walters fetched tea and cakes for four—His Grace, Lady Serendipity, and the Duke of Wolfebourne. He said nothing about who be the fourth, though.”
Grace knew the identity of the fourth. It was her. What in heaven’s name had happened now? Her heart fluttered into her throat, making her swallow hard. Had the duke ended his engagement to Lady Margaret? Was he here to…
No. Stop.Grace fisted her hands and forced herself to stop her ridiculous spiraling into the dangerous game ofwhat if.
If the duke had broken his engagement off, then Lady Longmorten would have already shown up at the manor with her teeth bared and her claws unsheathed. Grace knew that as surely as she knew her own reflection in the mirror. The engagement was still intact. Gossip like that traveled like a raging fire burning across dry fields. Every servant in the Lake District would have reported such an astonishing event to their masters.
“Did you happen to send any brandy with the tea?” she asked Cook.
The kindly old woman sadly shook her head. “You be the fourth, then?”
“I be the fourth.”
Cook nodded. “I figured so after—” She clamped her mouth shut and turned back to the worktable. “Be there anything else, my lady? Shall I give the pups extra scraps?”
Lovely.The servants knew everything. Grace had feared as much. “Yes, Cook. Please give the pups extra scraps and do not forget about sweet Lucy and her babies. They need more treats too.”
“It shall be done, my lady.” Cook looked up from the crock she was unsealing. “God be with you, Lady Grace. We all wish everything to go well for you.”
“Thank you.” Grace had no doubt the devoted servants only wanted the best for her. She just didn’t like being at the center of their gossip. Rather than dwell on the matter, she pushed through the doors and made her way to the main parlor, where she felt sure the pair of dukes, her brother and Wolfebourne, were holding court. As she entered, she locked eyes with Chance and completely ignored Wolfebourne. “You summoned me, brother?”
“Gracie!” Chance glared at her, then pointedly tipped a nod at the duke. “Where are your manners? We have a guest.”
She spared the man an aloof curtsy but kept her gaze on the floor. “Your Grace.”
“Lady Grace.”
The sorrow in his deep voice washed across her and made her lift her head and look him in the eye. She swallowed hard at the pain she saw there. But this pain and worry was not because of her. The poor man was beside himself in misery. Alarm seized her heart. “Connor and Sissy—are they all right?”
“I cannot find them,” he said, his voice raw and raspy. “I prayed they had come here—to you.”
Panic threatened to choke her. “I was in the field with the dogs, walking the fence line. I have not seen them.” She shared a desperate look with Serendipity. “I can’t abide the hindrance of these skirts while I help His Grace search for the children. Pegasus and I can cover a great deal of ground if I change.”
Serendipity gave a resigned nod, but Chance jumped to his feet. “No, Gracie! I forbid it.”
“You have no right to forbid me anything,” she told him. “I am of age.” She granted Wolfebourne a gentle look that he more than deserved. “And he has already seen me in my buckskinsbut was gallant enough to guard my secret and protect my reputation. Connor and Sissy are my friends. I intend to find them and see them safe.”
“You can’t ride alone with him,” Serendipity said, more than concern echoing in her tone. “Enough boundaries have been crossed.”
“Then come with us. You or Chance or any of the others.” Grace turned toward the door. “Whether chaperoned or not, I am going.” She looked to Wolfebourne. “You can use one of our horses to save time.” She turned to Chance. “Tell Jasper to get Pegasus ready. I shall be back down momentarily.”
“Gracie—please.” Her brother closed the distance between them and took hold of her hands. He opened his mouth to say more, but she silenced him with a hard look she knew he would understand.
“They are children, Chance, only seven years old, and there is so much out there that could harm them. Is the Abarough name, the Broadmere title, more important than the life of a child?” She stared him down, knowing he believed in the right answer even though it pained him to admit it.
He exploded with a loud snort and stepped back from her. “Fine. Do what you must, Gracie. We will pick up the pieces and mend whatever needs mending once the children are safe.”
Without another word, she caught up her skirts and ran upstairs. “Nellie!” she shouted as she burst into the sitting room, crossed it, and ran down the short hallway to the dressing room. “Nellie, I need your help. Quickly.”
“My lady?” Nellie emerged from the bedroom with her hands clasped to her chest. “What has happened?”
“I need to change into my buckskins. Quick as a minute. Children have gone missing, and I must find them.”
“Children gone missing?” Nellie rushed to undo the buttons and hooks of Grace’s gown. “What on earth happened, my lady? Whose children?”
“I am unsure of the details.” Hopping on one foot, Grace loosened the laces of her walking boot, then kicked it off.
“Here, now. Let me tend to that, afore you fall and harm yourself.” Nellie knelt and helped her remove the other one.
