“Begging your pardon, Miss Brinley,” the butler suddenly said, sticking his head into the room. “Two women have just arrived, saying something about needing to fetch some children.”
Before Gwendolyn could do more than frown, Miss Putman and Miss Wendell, Walter’s governesses, dashed into the room, looking harried. They skidded to a stop when they spotted him, Miss Putman dashing a hand over a perspiring forehead before her gaze darted around the room.
“They’re not here?” she asked as Miss Wendell advanced into the room, looking behind a chaise before she shook her head.
“They don’t appear to be.”
A sense of unease swept through Walter. “Are you looking for the children?”
“Indeed,” Miss Wendell said. “And while this does not speak well of my or Miss Putman’s abilities as governesses, your children locked us in a closet, using a missing doll as an excuse to get us in there. We only just managed to escape after the upstairs maid heard us hollering.”
“Why would you think the children were here?” Gwendolyn asked, stepping forward.
“Oscar told a groom we’d given them permission to take their pony cart out to come and have a word with you, Miss Brinley,” Miss Putman said, her gaze still darting about the room. “Everyone on staff knows how upset the children are about what happened last night, so the groom didn’t question Oscar, merely harnessed Bert to the cart and watched the children trundle up the drive.”
Miss Wendell began wringing her hands. “From what we’ve pieced together, they locked us in mere minutes after Mr. Townsend and his mother rode off the estate, which was some time ago now. But . . . if they’re not here, where are they?”
Thirty-Seven
While there had been numerous times when her siblings had gone missing, Gwendolyn was convinced Walter’s children hadn’t merely gotten distracted by chasing butterflies or wading in a stream they couldn’t pass by.
Oscar had made a point of telling the groom where they were heading, and if Gwendolyn knew anything about Oscar, it was that he was the most responsible nine-year-old she’d ever met and would never willingly put his siblings in harm’s way.
Given that the children had been gone for a few hours, there was nothing left to conclude except that they’d run into trouble. What type of trouble remained to be seen, but there was a sense of urgency to the situation, which was why she and Walter were now on horseback, traveling down Bellevue Avenue, where society was already assembled.
It didn’t take long to get the word out that the children were missing. Carriages filled with the society set soon took off in different directions to join the search, an agreement made that everyone would convene at Sea Haven in two hours to give reports or get additional direction if the children still hadn’t been found.
“Where do you suggest we go next?” Gwendolyn asked, turning to Walter after Russell Damrosch and Tillie Wickham told them they’d head off to look at Easton Beach.
Walter rubbed a hand over his face. “They might have thought, like me, you were staying at Mrs. Parker’s, not at Catriona’s cottage.”
“Then we’ll check Raven’s Roost first.” Gwendolyn turned her horse around and settled into a gallop as Walter did the same.
Mrs. Parker was less than pleased to see her, but after learning why they were there, she rang for her butler. When he told them no children had come calling, she called for a footman, telling Gwendolyn she would join in the search. She then voiced what might have been an apology, mentioning it hadn’t been well done of her to have Gwendolyn’s trunks dumped on Catriona’s doorstep early that morning.
Unwilling to waste time discussing what was an inconsequential matter, Gwendolyn strode for the door. But it seemed apologizing was exactly what Mrs. Parker wanted to do, especially when she added that she might have been a little rash with the termination business.
Gwendolyn pretended she didn’t hear her, heading for her horse and pulling herself into the saddle before she nodded Walter’s way. “If they didn’t try here first, they evidently were on their way to Catriona’s. Is Bellevue Avenue the fastest way to her cottage from Sea Haven?”
“It is.”
She frowned. “Bellevue is the most traveled street in Newport, and Oscar would have wanted to avoid notice. Maybe he decided to take an out-of-the-way route to get to Catriona’s.” She tilted her head. “I’ve yet to walk the Cliff Walk, but are there parts where you could drive a pony cart?”
Walter nodded. “Yes, parts, but the path narrows at places. They’d have to take to a road at some point.”
“Oscar probably knows that, but if I were him, that’s where I’d start. We should return to Sea Haven and puzzle out a route from there.”
Once they reached Walter’s cottage, they turned their horses toward the Cliff Walk, Gwendolyn scouring the landscape for any sign of a pony cart. When they reached the cliff path, their pace slowed as they steered the horses down it, reaching a spot ten minutes later where the path narrowed to such a degree it would have been impossible for Oscar to get the pony cart through.
Gwendolyn swung from the horse and walked around, stilling when she saw wheeled tracks in the dirt.
“Did you find something?” Walter asked, joining her.
She nodded to the tracks. “Could be from the pony cart.”
Walter bent down, studied the tracks, then straightened. “Looks like they decided to head toward the road. Ochre Point Avenue isn’t far from here. It would be the easiest road for the children to take to get to Catriona’s cottage.”
“Then let’s try there.”
Swinging back into the saddle, Gwendolyn nudged her horse into motion, following Walter, who suddenly kneed his horse to a gallop and raced toward a grove of trees in the distance. Following him, she pulled her horse to an abrupt stop when she caught sight of Bert standing underneath a tree, still harnessed to a pony cart that was, unfortunately, empty.
She was off the horse and by Walter’s side a moment later. “Perhaps they’re somewhere close,” she said. “I’ll check through the trees to the right—you go to the left.”
Calling the children’s names, she made her way through the forest. Her sense of urgency increased when only the sound of the ocean beating against the cliffs answered her calls. Stopping on the edge of the cliff, she forced herself to look over it, relief flowing freely when she didn’t spot a single sign of the children.
Turning, she retraced her steps to the pony cart. After giving Bert a pat, she climbed into the cart, hoping there would be some clue that would tell her what the children were up to—perhaps a picnic basket or . . . Her blood suddenly turned to ice when she spotted Susie lying on the floor.
“What is it?” Walter asked, striding back to join her.
His face turned ashen when she handed him the doll. “Priscilla would never willingly leave Susie behind,” he said. “Something’s happened to them.”
Gwendolyn took hold of his hand. “We won’t be of any use to them if we allow ourselves to become distracted by the worst possible outcome. We’ll find them—you know we will—but for now, we need to contact the police. Bert will be fine here while we do that, and the police will want to investigate this scene without us disturbing it more than we already have. We’ll return to Sea Haven and send a footman to summon the authorities. That way, if the children return, you’ll be at home.”