“Lady Rosthorn took her over to be with the archers.”
“She must have gone walking with Eleanor and a crowd of the older children.”
“No, she did not. She came with me instead to examine the bows and arrows. And then she went to join some of her friends.”
“She is definitely not with Miss Thompson. Look, they are coming back and she is not with them.”
“She must have gone up to the house.”
“She must have…”
“She must have…”
All the time Joseph looked wildly about him.
Where was Lizzie?
Panic seized him and pounded through his veins, robbing him of breath and any chance for rational thought. He was at Claudia Martin’s side without even knowing how he had got there and was clutching her by the wrist.
“I have been at the house,” he told her.
“I went for a walk.” She stared at him, not a vestige of color in her cheeks.
They had left Lizzie alone.
It was Bewcastle who took charge of the situation, followed closely by Kit.
“She cannot have gone far,” Bewcastle said, materializing from somewhere and standing in their midst with such a commanding presence that they all fell quiet—even most of the children—though he had not noticeably raised his voice. “The child has wandered away and cannot find her way back. We need to fan out—two to follow the lake this way, two that, two to go in the direction of the stables, two to go to the house, two to…”
He continued to marshal them all, like a general with his troops.
“Syd,” Kit said, “go straight to the stables and look there. You know all the hiding places. Lauren and I will go to the house—we know it best. Aidan, go…”
Joseph strode to the water’s edge and gazed out at a returning boat, one hand shielding his eyes. But neither of the two children in it was Lizzie.
“Lizzie!”He threw back his head and bellowed her name.
“She cannot have gone far.”
The voice, soft and shaking, came from beside him, and he realized that he still had a death grip on her wrist.
“She cannot have gone far,” Claudia Martin said again, and it was obvious to him that she was trying desperately to get herself under control—a schoolmistress who was accustomed to dealing with crises. “And she must have Horace with her—he is nowhere in sight either. She believes he is able to take her wherever she wants to go.”
People—both adults and children—were fanning off in all directions, many of them calling Lizzie’s name. Even the Redfields, Joseph could see, and his mother and father and Aunt Clara were joining the search.
He was paralyzed by panic and indecision. He wanted more than anyone to begin the search, but where was he to go? He wanted to go in every direction at once.
Where was she? Wherewasshe?
And then his heart lurched as he realized what Bewcastle and Hallmere were doing not far away. They were both hauling off their boots and stripping to the waist. And then they both dived into the lake.
The implication was so terrifying that it jolted Joseph into motion.
“She cannot be in there,” Claudia Martin said in a voice so shaky that it was virtually unrecognizable. “Horace would be running around loose.”
He grabbed her hand.
“We must look for her,” he said, turning his back resolutely on the water.
