Three Graces (32 page)

Carys looked confused. ‘I’d know, wouldn’t I?’ But then she began to think. The tiredness, the dizzy spells, the weepiness. She’d put it all down to her new life and settling in. Could she really be pregnant?

Francesca sat down opposite her. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ she said. ‘We’ll go to a chemist and find out.’

Carys nodded. She felt completely stunned.

‘I wanted to apologise to you,’ Francesca said, immediately capturing Carys’s attention. ‘I know I’ve not been the most friendly of people and I wanted to say sorry for not spending more time with you when you first came to Amberley.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what it was,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it was the knowledge that my time was finally coming to an end. You know that feeling of a chapter closing? Your arrival meant that a new generation was taking over Amberley.’

‘But didn’t you have all those feelings when Richard married Amanda?’

Francesca gave a little shake of her head. ‘It’s funny but no, I didn’t. I can’t say why. Life continued pretty much as it always had. Even with the arrival of Cecily and Evelyn. I think I was so excited about becoming a grandmother that I didn’t think of anything else. But there was something more permanent about your arrival.’

‘Permanent?’

‘Yes,’ Francesca said. ‘I had the feeling that you were the real start of the future. Perhaps it was all tied in with Henry’s death, I don’t know. Anyway,’ Francesca said, waving her hand in frustration at her own ineloquence, ‘I hope we can be friends now.’

Carys smiled. ‘I like the sound of that,’ she said.

Carys stayed at Cuthland House for another three days but she realised that she couldn’t stay there forever, however welcome she’d been made. She had to face the future full on.

‘I’m going back,’ she told Francesca who was sitting in the garden reading a copy of
Social Whirl
which she herself had graced many a time.

‘What, now?’

Carys nodded.

‘Do you want some company?’ Francesca asked, closing the magazine.

‘No, thank you. I’ll probably be best doing this alone.’

Francesca smiled. ‘Well, let me know how it goes and, if you have any trouble with Richard, send him straight to me.’

Carys grinned. It was good to have Francesca on her side.

Carys decided to walk. She could pick the car up another time. It was a gorgeous summer’s day. The sky was a perfect blue and cloudless and everything shimmered with summer light. She walked down the driveway and was just about to take a short cut across the fields when she saw a figure running towards her. It was Mrs Travis and the sight of her running was rather startling.

‘Mrs Travis!’ Carys exclaimed once the red-faced housekeeper had reached her. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

‘Oh, my lady! It’s Cecily,’ Mrs Travis said. ‘She’s gone missing.’

‘Missing? What do you mean?’

‘Nobody’s seen her since last night and her bed looks unslept in.’

Carys gasped. Where could she be? She remembered Francesca’s warning when they’d stayed up late talking the night before: ‘Look after her’ she’d said. Carys had thought that Cecily didn’t really need looking after. She’d always shied away from her attention and seemed so independent and strong.

‘Everyone’s out looking for her,’ Mrs Travis explained, breaking into Carys’s thoughts. ‘Have you seen her?’

‘No,’ Carys said. ‘I’ve not seen anyone.’

‘I was just going to check the dowager duchess’ house.’

‘But I’ve just come from there.’

‘And she wasn’t there?’

‘No.’

‘Oh my good lord,’ Mrs Travis said. ‘Where can the girl have got to?’

‘I’ll help you look,’ Carys said.

‘Oh, will you, my lady?’

‘Of course I will.’

‘I’ll go this way,’ Mrs Travis said, her chest heaving in anxiety.

Carys nodded and decided to head across the fields. Where could Cecily be and why had she run away? Carys thought long and hard. If she was a child living at Amberley, where would she run away to? If she hadn’t slept in her bed, surely she’d have chosen somewhere sheltered.

‘The yew bower?’ Carys wondered. It was certainly sheltered but it was also a little on the spooky side and she didn’t think she’d head there if she was Cecily. The new stables? Cecily certainly loved her pony but surely they would have looked there already.

Carys wracked her brains as she walked. There wasn’t anywhere to shelter in the walled garden other than an ancient greenhouse with broken windows, and the other gardens were equally bereft of accommodation. And then something occurred to Carys. Maybe Cecily hadn’t let the house at all. Hadn’t she only recently been discussing with Francesca how easy it was to go whole days without being seen there?

Carys headed across the fields towards Amberley. Everybody seemed to be outside, combing the estate for Cecily. Carys, it appeared, was the only one to think of looking indoors.

Walking through to the Yellow Drawing Room, she listened to the comforting tick of the clock. The kitchens? No, too cold. The library? Nowhere to hide and the chairs were too uncomfortable. Most of the rooms in Amberley weren’t very child-friendly at all. Stuffed full of antiques, they made play rather difficult and Carys couldn’t think of a single room she’d choose to hide in if she was a child. Unless …

‘The attics!’ she suddenly exclaimed. They’d be warmer than the kitchens, far away enough for it to feel as if you were running away and not so precious that you might break something.

Carys headed up to the, as yet, unexplored rooms. She’d only ever taken a quick peek at the long dusty corridors and been told that there were enough bits of old furniture up there to furnish the whole of Cuthland but she’d always had so much to do with the rest of the house without worrying about what was commonly referred to as ‘the storage floor’. Now, she entered the low-ceilinged floor with a sense of anticipation, hoping her instinct was right.

‘Cecily?’ she called out softly, entering room after dusty room, her eyes gazing quickly at heaps of rickety chairs, three-legged tables, mountains of ancient coats and strange kitchen appliances.

‘It’s Carys. Can I talk to you?’

She moved from room to room, careful to duck to avoid knocking her head on the low beams and doorways.

‘Cecily? Are you there?’

Carys sighed. What a mess everything was, she thought. When she’d first met Richard, she’d little suspected that, just a few months down the line, she’d have become a duchess, found herself pregnant, would have left the family home and lost her step-daughter. But she was determined to put everything right now. She loved Richard more than she could have thought possible. They’d
have
to make things work. Love couldn’t be thrown aside just because a few office hours got in the way.

A sudden noise from the next room brought Carys back to the present and she went to investigate, treading lightly on the old squeaking floorboards. It was slightly larger than the other rooms and had a little window which looked out across the lake. There was an old dolls’ house in the corner - a gorgeous Georgian wedding cake of a house - and Carys was surprised to discover that it had been left uncovered and yet wasn’t covered in dust.

She took a closer look. It looked absolutely new - as if it had only recently been played with. Carys peeped into the little windows at the rooms it housed. It reminded her of Barston Hall and she could well imagine many happy hours had been spent playing with it.

Then, there was the tiniest squeak from a floorboard behind her. Carys bit her lip and slowly turned around and there, standing behind the door, was Cecily, looking at her with fearful eyes.

‘Cecily!’ Carys cried. ‘What are you doing? Everyone’s out looking for you. We’ve all been so worried.’

She looked up at Carys but didn’t say a word.

‘Are you all right?’ Carys asked softly and Cecily nodded. She was wearing her nightie with a light cotton jumper on top. Carys approached her slowly and smiled. ‘What are you doing up here? Were you visiting the dolls’ house?’

Again, Cecily didn’t reply.

Carys swallowed. She’d never found herself in a position quite like this before and wasn’t sure how to proceed. Should she skirt around the issue and cajole Cecily into returning downstairs with her? Should she slap her legs and drag her away from the attics vowing not to give her any pocket money for a month? Oh, dear, Carys thought. Neither of those seemed appropriate.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to be blunt. In her experience, children responded best to honesty.

‘What made you run away?’ she asked.

Cecily’s lip wobbled for a moment but then she spoke. ‘You ran away first and it was because of me.’

Carys frowned. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘Evie said it was my fault that you left.’

Carys couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘But that’s nonsense. Cecily? Do you hear me? That’s complete nonsense.’

‘Why did you go, then?’ Cecily asked, tears threatening to spill at any moment.

‘For lots of reasons,’ Carys said. ‘And none of them had anything to do with you.’

Cecily shuffled about uneasily from foot to foot and Carys noticed that she was wearing her favourite pink sandals.

‘Where did you sleep?’ Carys asked, looking around and not seeing anywhere she’d fancy bedding down for the night.

Cecily left the room. ‘In here,’ she said and Carys followed her into a smaller room in which was placed an old chaise longue, the fabric faded and torn.

‘Were you warm enough?’ Carys asked, the maternal side of her instantly showing itself.

‘I was okay.’

‘It doesn’t look very comfortable to me.’

Cecily shrugged and Carys knelt down beside her, thinking that she must be as nervous talking to her as Carys had been when calling at Francesca‘s. ‘You know,’ she began, ‘it can’t have been very easy for you when I came here. It wasn’t very easy for me either. I mean, how many women suddenly discover that they’re going to be a step-mother to two girls?’ Carys paused. ‘There have been a lot of changes, haven’t there?’

Cecily nodded.

‘And I’m guessing that it’s not going to be easy getting used to them. Maybe that’s the reason I ran away too. I got scared for a while. I didn’t know how to cope.’ Carys gave a little smile. ‘But I realised that this is my home now and I want to be here more than anything else in the world. I want to be with your daddy and I want to be with you and Evie.’

Cecily listened but her eyes were cast down.

‘Do you think you could help me?’ Carys asked. ‘I’m going to need lots of friends to help me. Would you be my friend, Cecily?’

Cecily didn’t answer for a moment but she slowly looked up and saw Carys smiling at her and she nodded.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now, how about some lunch? I’m absolutely starving!’

Cecily nodded again and then did something completely unexpected: she put her hand in Carys.

Carys bit her lip in an attempt to stop tears from flooding. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I’ll make us some pancakes.’

Leaving the attic rooms behind, they walked, hand in hand, down the long staircase back into the main house. At once, Carys could hear voices in the hallway.

‘I suppose we should let everyone know we’re all right.’

‘I’m nervous,’ Cecily said in a shy voice.

‘Me too,’ Carys said, squeezing her hand. ‘Take a deep breath.’

Cecily did and Carys echoed it.

‘Cecily!’ Richard shouted as soon as they appeared. ‘Where have you been?’ He swooped down and picked his daughter up, swinging her around and kissing the crown of her head feverishly.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Mrs Travis joined. ‘Thank goodness you’re safe.’

Carys stood and watched. Once again, she seemed to belong in the background.

‘I’ve been so worried about you.’

‘I’m all right, Daddy. Carys came and found me.’

‘But where were you?’

‘In the attic.’

‘The attic? But it’s horrible up there.’

‘It’s not. It’s quite warm and there’s lots to do,’ Cecily said matter-of-factly.

‘But you’ve been gone hours.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I was beginning to get hungry.’

Richard squeezed her, flattening her nose against his chest. ‘Then we will get you something to eat.’

‘Carys is going to make me pancakes,’ Cecily said with a smile, looking round to her step-mother who immediately blushed.

‘Pancakes?’ Mrs Travis said incredulously. ‘You’ll be needing a good bath before you eat anything, Miss Cecily. Look how grubby you are.’ And, with that, Mrs Travis led Cecily away, leaving Richard and Carys alone.

‘Carys!’ Richard said, his voice not much above a whisper. The smile that he’d bestowed on Cecily had vanished and his face was as white as ash.

‘Hello,’ Carys said, her voice quiet too and her face allowing only the tiniest of smiles.

‘I’ve been so worried. I woke up and you weren’t there.’

‘But that
always
happens to me,’ Carys said before she had time to think. It sounded so accusatory and she hadn’t meant to jump in like that.

‘But at least you know where I am.’

Carys hung her head. ‘I was at your mother’s.’

‘Were you? She didn’t say a word.’

‘No.’

‘Why didn’t you call?’

‘I needed to get away. Just be me for a bit. It’s hard to do that here.’

Richard frowned. ‘But there’s acres and acres and endless rooms to escape to.’

‘But they’re not mine.’

Richard stared at her. ‘Yes they are. When you married me, you took on the role not only of my wife and step-mother to my girls but mistress of this house.’

Carys flinched. He made it sound like an impossible job description.

‘It needs you, Carys,’ he added gently.

She looked up at him. His eyes were wide and soft and she felt her own begin to vibrate with tears.

‘
I
need you,’ he said, and it was absolutely the right thing to say - or the wrong thing - because the tears fell before she could stop them.

‘Carys!’ He crossed the space between them in an instant and kissed her. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,’ he whispered in her ear.