???
They met the Duke and Duchess on their way back to the castle. When the Duchess saw that Ezra was carrying the boy in his arms, she rushed towards him, nearly tripping several times as she did so. The Duke hurried to catch her up and ended up reaching them first, in spite of his limp.
Matthew! Is he hurt? Where was he?" She reached for him, but Ezra shook his head.
"Let me get him back to the castle. He is well, I believe – a little shaken, and with a twisted ankle. But it is cold; let’s get him inside."
He had heard stories of how the Duke’s leg had been badly damaged in the fire that had killed his father. He knew that was why the man walked with a limp – and why he quiteprobably would not be able to carry the boy up to the castle. It was no problem for Ezra, and so it did not make sense to swap.
They made a strange party, making their way back to the front door. The Duchess clung to her son’s hand, which was probably slowing Ezra down, but he did not say anything. Lady Constance walked beside him, still wearing his jacket.
When they got inside, the Duke directed Ezra up the stairs to the boy’s bedchamber, where the worried nanny was pacing.
"Oh, you found him! You found him! Matthew, you are terrible for worrying me like that. I did not know where you were, I—"
"Apparently he wanted to look at jellyfish," Ezra said with a wry smile. "But all’s well that ends well, eh?"
As the Duchess checked her son’s foot, the Duke offered his hand and shook Ezra’s. "Thank you both – enormously. If he hadn’t been found…well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. We are in your debt."
Chapter Nine
"How was the dinner?" Grandmamma asked when Constance returned home the following day.
"It was…interesting. Unexpected," she said.
Although, of course, the memorable event of the evening had been the disappearance and then the rediscovery of the little boy, Constance could not tear her mind from the Earl’s heartfelt apology. She had never known anyone – let alone a man – admit so fully that he was wrong and ask for forgiveness.
It made her see him in an entirely different light. Yes, he had misjudged her, but he had admitted it, and he was sorry.
"Indeed? I always find the Duke of Coldingham such a confusing fellow. Sometimes he seems to barely speak, and at others he’s very charming. The influence of his wife, also, I’m told. Before her, I believe he was a recluse."
"He seems very pleasant, although rather intimidating, I do agree. But the Duchess is lovely – she always was. One of those people whose smile lights up the room. Their son went missing last night," she said, picking up her needlework from where she had left it.
"He did? How terrible. I presume he was found?"
Constance nodded. "He’d gone wandering down to the beach, wanting to see if some legend about jellyfish was true. The Earl of Gracewood and I found him…"
"Indeed?" Grandmamma said, raising her eyebrows. "I feel I have heard his name mentioned many times now."
"You have also heard the names of the Duke and Duchess of Coldingham, and the Duke and Duchess of Dunloch, and probably Lord and Lady Aylesbury as well. You mustn’t read into everything, Grandmamma. I am here for you – and the castles. Nothing more."
???
"How was your evening?" his mother asked, when she appeared unannounced at Gracewood Castle the following afternoon.
"It was…more pleasant than I expected," he said, and he did not miss his mother’s self-satisfied smile.
"So you admit I was right, then? You are happier out in society?"
He considered her question carefully. Was she right? He certainly felt as though some of the gloom and haze he had lived in for the last five years had lifted. It was enjoyable – surprisingly so – not just to live in his own little world. To have other people to talk to, to think about… Not that he was thinking about anyone in particular, of course. But he was very pleased that Lady Constance had accepted his apology, and that they could, hopefully, become friends.
He thought he might invite her to Gracewood Castle, to look around properly, since she loved castles so much; an olive branch, to hopefully dispel the memory of her last visit.
"There was an incident with the Duke’s son going missing," he told his mother, rather surprised she had not already heard about it through the county gossips. "But I found him. Well – we did."
"Well done to you. But who’s ‘we’? Who was your accomplice?"
"Lady Constance Beaumont," he said, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips. "She’s a friend of the Duchess’s. She was at the ball the other night."
