His eyes widened. ‘Tell me everything.’ His voice carried a quiet urgency that brooked no refusal.
He seemed intent on learning the truth, so Grace described each girl who had vanished. A shadow crossed Mr Stone’s features as she detailed Leah’s and Millie’s disappearance and the families’ fruitless pleas for help. His expression grew darker with every name. When she finished mentioning how Melissa disappeared on the same day Gibbs vanished, he asked, ‘Has anyone taken serious measures to find them?’ Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, as if an old memory haunted him.
‘Beyond the families’ own searches, no. The constable and magistrate treated all the girls as runaways. As for Mr Gibbs, the constable did organise a search party, but it was far from thorough. The families are convinced Mr Gibbs abducted these girls, but I am not entirely certain he is directly involved. Nevertheless, people around here tend to blame strangers for everything. Still, I’ve known these families for years, and nothing like this happened before Gibbs arrived. It is suspicious, is it not?’
‘Indeed. What do you think we should do, Miss Skye?’ He questioned.
Surprised that he wanted her opinion, she paused. ‘You need to question the Manor staff and speak with the tenants. However, they will only trust you if you keep your promises. Returning the rent overpayments and starting repairs would be a sensible first step. Additionally, several young maids left their positions due to harassment. They should be reinstated to their roles.’
He nodded, then rode on, lost in thought. The sky had darkened, and a stiff breeze whipped Grace’s cloak about her ankles as she and Mr Stone continued in tense silence towards the Manor. Each bump in the dirt track jarred her thoughts,reminding her of all she still did not understand about Mr Stone—or about Gibbs’s connection to these vanishings. Eventually, he said with quiet determination, ‘We must find these girls, and we need to locate Gibbs and his men for questioning.’
He pulled back on the reins of his horse, forcing both of them to halt. Turning his mount to face her, he asked, ‘Miss Skye, will you help me interview the staff?’
GRACE TRAVELLED BACKto her cottage by carriage. Her heart leaped as she recalled every stolen glance at Mr Stone, every smile he aimed her way. She was troubled by how drawn she felt to him. She could no longer deny it. The more she learnt of his character, the harder it became to fault him. He was polite, genuinely concerned about the missing girls, and clearly not in league with Gibbs. She had hoped he might be guilty, so she could keep her heart safe, but that possibility had vanished.
This was a disaster. The very disguise she had crafted to keep him at bay now trapped her in her own deception. It was maddening. Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the gentle pressure of his hands at her waist, and the memory of his quiet confidence lingered long after they parted. She clenched her fists, trying to banish the foolish flutter in her stomach. She had no business feeling this way—especially not with the tenants’ fate and the missing girls weighing so heavily on her conscience. By the time she reached her doorstep, her thoughts were in a tangled mess. She pressed a hand to her forehead, wondering if she would ever find a clear path through this turmoil.
Exhausted, she removed her spectacles—which pinched her nose—and rubbed her face, a habitual gesture. She regretted it instantly as the cream smeared across her hands. To her dismay, Heather appeared in the doorway and, seeing Grace’s blotchy face, burst into fits of laughter.
‘Gracy... oh, Gracy...’ she cried between giggles. ‘What happened today?’
Grace glowered at her, not in the mood for teasing. Heather sobered at once and asked again, ‘Seriously, what happened?’
Grace recounted the day’s events, and both Heather and Mrs Merriweather brightened.
‘This is marvellous news, is it not?’ Heather exclaimed. ‘It means Mr Stone probably isn’t working with Gibbs or Barnes. Why else would he investigate and try to find the girls if he were guilty?’
Mrs Merriweather, though hesitant, nodded in agreement.
‘Yes, it is good news,’ Grace admitted, feeling strangely miserable.
‘Then why do you look so wretched?’ Heather asked.
‘It’s nothing,’ Grace muttered, fleeing to her room.
Heather, undeterred, followed. She tilted her head, concern evident in her eyes. ‘Then why do you look so miserable?’
Grace turned away, avoiding her sister’s gaze and fiddling with a button on her sleeve.
‘Are you sure?’ Heather persisted, laying a gentle hand on Grace’s arm.
Unable to contain her emotions any longer, Grace snapped, ‘I think I’m falling in love with Mr Stone!’
Chapter 12
At that moment, Heather squealed. She bounced on the bed, eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘What!’ she cried. ‘How... what do y—when... I mean, tell me everything!’
Grace groaned and buried her face in the nearest pillow. A muffled sigh escaped her. ‘Argh... this is not funny, Heather. I have no idea what to do.’
Heather settled on her knees beside her sister, worry flickering beneath her playful grin. ‘But does he feel the same way?’
Grace pushed herself upright, her heartbeat drumming in her ears at the very idea. ‘I... I sometimes catch him looking at me. He might admire certain things about me, but I am so painfully aware of how dowdy I appear in all these shawls and padding. It seems impossible that he could be interested in me in that way. He is handsome—surely he could choose from the greatest beauties in England. I am just... me. I am so confused!’ She ended weakly, sinking her face into the pillow again.
‘Yes, but you are forgetting that you are a truly beautiful and remarkable person.’ Heather stroked Grace’s hair as she spoke. ‘If he saw the real you, there is no way he could remain indifferent. Besides, do you not want someone who cares about who you are on the inside rather than just your outward appearance? He does not sound superficial. And from what you have said, he seems to suspect your disguise already, so why not reveal it?’
Grace fiddled with the edge of the blanket, unable to ignore the knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. ‘Because if he finds out I deceived him, he might cancel your sponsorship. I feel dreadful that I lied. It was different when he was a suspect or just the man of business—but now it has become so personal. He keeps praising my good character, yet I am living a lie. I feel like a hypocrite. Even if he takes my disguise as a harmless prank, I know almost nothing about his life. What if he is married or engaged? Every time I ask him anything about himself, he is evasive and somehow cleverly turns the questioning around on me. He knows so much about me now. Whereas I know next to nothing abouthim. I do not want to get attached to him, knowing he is still hiding things from me. I wish these feelings would just stop pestering me.’
This threw a spanner into Heather’s thoughts, her smile dimmed, for she had already envisioned a grand wedding. ‘Ah, I see your problem.’ Twirling a curl around her finger, she promptly fell silent, trying to find a solution to this particularly thorny dilemma.
