Adam's Promise (14 page)

He ran down the stairs and out the front door. A violent gale was still blowing, and the sky was churning with dark thunderclouds. He ran to the barn, checked the chicken coop and the vegetable garden, but couldn't find Madeline anywhere.

John Metcalf had been with her last. Had she left with him? Gone riding across the marsh?

One more short search of the yard and the house yielded no results, so he quickly saddled his horse. No matter what it took, he was going to find Madeline. And God willing, he was going to make her his own.

A
dam galloped along the ridge top, stopping to overlook the marsh below, while a brawny, brisk wind blasted him in the face. A storm was brewing, there was no doubt about that, and he had to find Madeline. He needed to explain his feelings to her before Diana had a chance to spoil everything. And she would. He
knew
she would. Madeline was deeply loyal to her sister. If she heard Diana's story first, Madeline would never believe Adam's love was pure. She would never betray her heartbroken sister.

He kicked himself then, remembering the day he had brought Madeline with him to meet Lord Blackthorne's ship. With high hopes and grand intentions, he had carried the letter to Diana in his pocket, yet he had not disclosed a word of his plan to Madeline. He'd foolishly believed he had all the time in the world to woo her. He had stalled, waiting for the right time, and now he might have missed his opportunity altogether. The window had slammed shut on his fingers.

When he didn't see Madeline or John down on the
marsh, he wondered if John had taken her to see his new homestead. Deciding it was a likely place to find her, he turned his mount and kicked in his heels, feeling the first cold drops of rain pelt his cheeks.

A short time later, he was thoroughly drenched and trotting into John's yard. John's horse was tethered inside the open barn, his saddle gone from his back. A light burned in the kitchen window.

Feeling a surge of protectiveness over Madeline, Adam dismounted and strode to the door. How would he handle this, if Madeline was inside? The impropriety of it was one thing; John would have to be dealt with. But what about Adam's more important objective—to pour out his heart to Madeline? He certainly couldn't do it here, and what if he was too late? What if Madeline had fallen in love with John?

Steeling himself against any of those possibilities, Adam knocked on the door. It opened before him, and John stood there in stockinged feet, his waistcoat off, his shirt open at the neck.

Adam felt his gut twist with dread.
Please, Madeline, be anywhere but here.

Clenching his jaw, he tried to keep his voice low and controlled. “Hello, John. I'm looking for Madeline.”

John held a half-eaten chunk of rye bread in his hand. He stopped chewing. “I left her at your house over an hour ago.”

An odd mixture of relief and frustration welled up inside Adam. He heaved with a shaky breath. “Did she mention anything about going anywhere? For a walk perhaps?”

John shook his head. “No. Why, is she missing?”

Adam recognized the concern in John's voice, saw the flash of panic in his eyes, and knew John's feelings for Madeline—like Adam's own—were genuine. Although there were times he would have liked to put John on a leaky boat back to Yorkshire, he couldn't fault the young man for his affections. He was young and unattached, hoping to begin a new life, and Madeline was indeed a treasure.

Adam descended the steps. “Don't worry, I'll find her.”

Not five seconds later, John was shrugging into his coat. “I'll come with you.”

“There's no need.”

To his credit, the young man persisted. “You need help, Mr. Coates. This storm's getting worse, and if Madeline's not at home, she might be stranded somewhere.”

Adam mounted his horse. “All right. I'll meet you back at my house. We'll see if she's returned there. If not, we'll search the hay barns on the marsh. She might have taken shelter in one of them.”

With a grateful nod to John, Adam steered his horse directly into the wind and galloped across the rain-soaked field.

 

Feeling the chill of the first few raindrops strike her skin, Madeline picked up her skirts and hurried into the yard. She entered the house just as the storm unleashed its fury and the skies opened up with a violent downpour.

Thankful to have outrun it, she removed her shawl
and shook away the wetness. The house was quiet and she felt guilty for having been gone so long, but she had needed some time to herself.

After John had ridden away, she had turned to see Adam through the window, sitting across from Diana in his study, reaching for her hand. It had shaken Madeline, for although she had consciously accepted their love, it was another thing entirely to see them alone together, exchanging intimacies. Gazing at each other. Touching.

A tremendous swell of tears had filled her eyes and she'd had to leave the yard. She'd walked up the hill to the towering old oak, sat on the swing by herself and wept until she couldn't weep any longer. She'd needed to weep, for she had bucked her tears for too long.

She realized that although she'd tried to resist and deny it, her desire for Adam had taken over her entire soul and she could not conquer it. The only way to save her heart was to leave. She would have to make her own future somewhere other than under Adam's roof. Whether or not John Metcalf would be a part of that future, she did not know. That remained to be seen.

So here she stood, feeling a little stronger from the tears now out of her system, and determined once again to move on with her life. This time, she would succeed.

She went to light a candle, for the storm had made the house seem almost as dark as night.

Madeline jumped, however, when Penelope came bounding down the stairs. “It's you!”

Charlie came down behind her. “Where is everyone?”

“What do you mean?” Madeline said.

“There's no one here except for Hilary,” Charlie replied in a tense, clipped voice. “We returned from Jacob's house, and saw Lady Thurston riding out of the yard toward the marsh on Penelope's horse. She didn't stop when we called after her, and when we came inside, Hilary didn't know where Lady Thurston had gone. And now it's raining.”

Hilary came hurrying down the stairs, too. “Begging your pardon, Miss Oxley. We're dreadfully worried.”

“Where's your father?” Madeline asked Charlie and Penelope.

The children shook their heads. “We don't know.”

Madeline walked to the window and looked out at the rain streaming down in a forceful, almost horizontal torrent. Huge Scotch pines and maple trees in the yard were swaying in the gusting winds, their branches flapping about. Raindrops noisily battered the glass panes. She thought of her sister, getting caught in this. It wasn't dark yet, but it would be soon. Would she find shelter? Or would she become disoriented and get lost?

“Diana doesn't know her way around,” Madeline said. “She's never been down on the marsh. Why would she ride off like that?”

“We don't know,” Penelope replied.

“And you've looked everywhere for your father?”

“Yes. He's not here. His horse is gone.”

Madeline tried to consider all the possibilities. “Perhaps Diana was following him somewhere.”

Hilary put her arm around Penelope. “No, miss. Mr. Coates left over an hour ago. He was looking for
you.
”

Madeline pressed her palm to her forehead. “For me? Why? I had just gone for a walk.”

They all shrugged.

“This is all my fault,” Madeline said. “I should have told someone where I was going.” She directed her gaze at Charlie. “Is your horse in the barn?”

“Yes.”

“Will you come and help me saddle him?”

“You shouldn't go out in this weather,” he said. “Father wouldn't want you to.”

“Everyone else is out in it. I might as well be, too. Besides, I think your father might have gone to look for me along the road where I usually go walking. If I can find him, I can tell him that Diana is out in this, too. Don't worry, I know my way around, and there's still time before dark.”

“All right.” Charlie went to fetch his coat. “But I'm coming with you.”

Madeline started upstairs to get her hooded cloak. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

 

Splashing through puddles and squinting into the driving rain, Adam rode his horse into the yard. He quickly dismounted, tethered his mount and went inside. The candles in the hall were lit, and as soon as the door closed behind him, Penelope and Hilary appeared out of the back kitchen.

Penelope ran at him and leaped into his arms. “Father!”

He knelt down to hug her. “I'm fine, darling. It's just a little rain. Has Madeline returned?”

“Yes, Mr. Coates,” Hilary replied, “but there's been—”

“Thank goodness,” he said, overwhelmed by the relief he felt, hearing that she was safe. “Where is she? I must see her right away.”

He rose to his feet and continued to hold Penelope's tiny hand. She did not seem ready to let it go just yet.

“Miss Oxley's not here, sir. She returned not long ago, and discovered that you and Lady Thurston had both gone looking for her, so she went with Charlie to find you.”

There was a long, tremulous silence as Adam's brow furrowed with disbelief. “She's gone back out? Diana's out there, too?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But this storm is getting worse every minute.”

“We know, sir. Miss Oxley assured us she knew her way around, and Charlie went with her. Her ladyship, however, was alone.”

He went to the door to look out. “This is disastrous. How long ago did they leave?”

“Miss Oxley and Charlie left about ten minutes ago,” Hilary replied, “but my lady has been gone almost an hour.”

He gathered his coat collar tighter around his neck and opened the door. A gust of wind blew into the front hall. “You two stay here. I'm going to the
marsh to look for them. John Metcalf is on his way. When he gets here, tell him what has happened and send him out to look, too.”

“Be careful, Father!” Penelope called to him from the shelter of the doorway.

He waved at her, then mounted his horse and galloped through the wind and rain toward the top of the ridge. He paused there briefly to gaze below, but saw nothing through the raging storm. His horse nickered, and Adam had to urge the reluctant steed down the road to the lowlands.

On the marsh, Adam called out to Madeline and Diana, but no reply came. The wind howled like a great beast as it gusted over the grasses. The rain stung his face like steel pellets. He continued along the road toward the river, until he decided to cross over a dale to check one of the hay barns.

Within minutes, he noticed his mount was struggling to manage his footing across the wet grass. The closer they came to the river, the deeper the puddles became until they were sloshing through soggy ground and sinking into the mud. It was clear to Adam that the water was not draining fast enough into the ditches. He gazed uneasily up at the darkening sky, the clouds showing no sign of retreat. He called out Madeline's name again, then Diana's, and searched the vast landscape with squinting, burning eyes.

Though his first concern was to find each of them unharmed, he could not deny the hope that he would find Madeline before Diana did.

He continued toward the river and soon realized
that his horse was up to his knees in water, struggling now with each step.

A slow panic began to move over Adam. He stopped on the marsh and peered through the storm toward the river. Perhaps the dykes were damaged.

“Madeline! Diana!”

He spotted a hay barn in the distance and wondered if they might have gone there to seek shelter. Madeline was smart. She would take Diana there if she'd found her.

“Let's go, boy, just a little farther.”

Suddenly his horse slumped beneath him and Adam tumbled off, splashing into ice-cold salt water. The shock of it set his heart racing. The next thing he knew, he was struggling to keep his head above water and touch bottom in what appeared to be a flooded ditch.

His horse snorted and whinnied. A few frenzied seconds of panic passed, then they both managed to stagger out of the trench. Still up to his knees in muddy water, Adam pulled himself onto his horse. He shivered with a chill, then called out, “Madeline!”

He heard a cry from somewhere in the distance. “Madeline!” he called out again.

At last he spotted her, galloping across the swampy ground with John Metcalf and Charlie, and he thanked God for keeping them safe. He started off toward them.

“Adam! Help!” Madeline shouted. “It's Diana! She's been hurt! Terribly hurt!”

The words struck him like a mallet. He rode to meet them on dryer ground. “Where is she?”

Dear God, whatever had happened to Diana tonight, it was his doing and he would never be able to forget it.

“She's in one of the hay barns!” Madeline turned to point toward the center of the marsh. “I couldn't get her out! The wind took the roof off and it collapsed on her! She's not conscious!”

He heard the terror in Madeline's voice, felt it in his own chest. All he could do was urge his horse onward. “Let's go. We've got to get her out of there before this whole marsh floods.”

John rode up beside Adam. “It's flooding? Good God, you're drenched.”

“I went for a swim. We all will, if we don't reach high ground soon.”

By the time they crossed the marsh to where Diana was trapped, the entire ground had flooded knee-deep. John and Adam leaped off their horses.

“Where is she?” Adam asked.

Madeline slid off her horse and splashed into the water, the surface littered with limp blades of grass and weeds. She gasped at the shock of the chill. “She's this way!”

Gathering her heavy, wet skirts in her fists, she waded toward the barn door and went into what remained of the damaged structure.

She pointed. “There!”

Adam saw the vivid color of Diana's blue skirt peeking out from beneath some debris and draping over the side of the loft. He felt a sickening wash of
dread. The rest of her was hidden beneath the fallen roof. At least she was not in danger of drowning, he told himself, as he climbed the ladder.

John followed close behind. Carefully they tossed boards and planks aside until they could reach her. Adam touched her arm. “Diana!”