“A good thought, Miss Felton.” Alice rose from her chair, ready to seek out her bonnet again.
“Oh, no need. You had them all of the afternoon.” Miss Felton rose, her pinched expression easing. “I suppose I could do with some evening sun before I am boxed up again, too. Come children.”
Lord James cast Alice a somewhat disappointed glance, but he, Geoffrey, and three of the baron’s children followed Miss Felton out the door. Alice fell back into her chair, most relieved. She picked up the book she had been meaning to finish, allowing the older girls to practice the art of conversation with their remaining friend.
But her mind wandered, again and again, to Rupert’s return. His kiss. His adoration of her freckles. Merely allowing herself to think of him made her toes curl in her shoes and her cheeks grow warm. His affection had not waned. He had not left because of her.
Where could his note of explanation have gone?
Alice looked to where the faded blooms still stood in their vase near one of the wide schoolroom windows. She rose and went to inspect the blooms. Really, she ought to have allowed the maid to remove them the day before, but she had been hesitant to lose the last blooms Rupert had sent to her. Even if they were sent for science, rather than sentiment.
They were from him. That had been enough.
“Miss Sharpe, will you play Whist with us?” Lady Rosalind asked. “Mabel doesn’t know how to play very well. We need to help her practice.”
Alice put the vase down and gave her full attention to the girls. “Of course. I would be delighted to help you, Miss Mabel. Will you be my partner?”
The schoolroom darkened as they played, and a maid entered to see to the fire and light more lamps. Alice barely noticed the passing time before the door opened, with Miss Felton leading the children back into the room. Alice glanced up from her hand of cards and greeted them with a smile.
“Did all of you enjoy your play?”
Lord James slouched into a chair near the door, scowling. “We were playing hide-and-seek.”
“Oh?” Alice looked to see the Addington children appeared unbothered, clamoring as they did to eat the last of the biscuits from dinner. She looked to Miss Felton. “Did something go amiss during the game?”
Miss Felton’s sour expression was back. “Geoffrey went amiss.” She sniffed and leaned over Miss Mabel’s shoulder. “Play that one, dear.”
The girl followed the governess’s instruction and won the trick for herself and Alice.
“Where is Geoffrey?” Alice asked, realizing he had not come in with the others. His mop of curly hair wasn’t even peeking around the doorway. When Miss Felton only sniffed, Alice fixed her gaze on Lord James. “Where is he?”
He pointed an indignant finger at Miss Felton. “She wouldn’t let me find him.”
Alice rose from the table, letting her hand of cards drop to its surface. “Miss Felton?”
“That boy is nothing but troublesome. He is full of mischief and of a poor temperament. That is what comes from being orphaned. No natural parents to keep him in check.”
Alice felt the eyes of Lady Isabelle, Lady Rosalind, and Lord James upon her. The baron’s children were oblivious to the storm rising in her breast, but apparently her charges knew.
“Miss Felton. Geoffrey is a child under your care. That you could leave him alone in a strange place, with night coming on, says more about your lack of compassion than his character. An orphan he might be, but that makes him no less worthy of care or attention. I will bring this matter before the duke and duchess, after I have found Geoffrey.”
Alice went to the door, snatching up a lamp with a handle as she went. The small lantern would have to do. “Lord James?” she asked as she went to the doorway.
He jumped to his feet. “We were playing in the meadow, by the woods.”
Though Alice’s center went cold, she gave a tight nod and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
She went directly to the nearest doors to the garden, on the ground floor of the house. As she passed the dining hall, hearing sounds of laughter and conversation inside, she hesitated.
There wasn’t a moment to lose.
Even if the woods terrified her.
Would anyone at the duke’s table care that a boy had gone missing, or would they see it as her duty to return him without causing a fuss?
She put her lantern on a table and drew in a deep breath. No one had fought for her, ever. She had been left in the woods for hours as a child, because her negligent relatives thought she would find her way home when she was hungry enough or frightened enough. A groundsman had finally come looking for her—an older servant with grandchildren she had played with a time or two.
Geoffrey deserved better from Alice.
She entered the dining room without knocking and strode several steps inside before she faltered.
The duke and duchess sat at either end of their fine table. The baron, his wife, eldest daughter, the earl, and Lady Josephine were all eating and enjoying their meal and wine.
Rupert sat with his back to her, but he turned before anyone else knew she was there.
And stood. “Miss Sharpe.”
The room fell quiet. Alice kept her gaze locked with Rupert’s and did not dare to look at anyone else. Her whole frame trembled at the brazenness of her actions, and she hid her trembling fingers behind her back. The duke had proven kind when his guest attacked her, but would he look upon her interruption of a formal meal with the same care?
“Geoffrey is missing. He might be lost in the woods.”
Rupert left the table and was by her side immediately. “How long has he been gone?”
Alice lifted her gaze to his. “Not long. He is all alone.”
“Gregory.” The Duchess beseeched her husband, and Alice saw the duke already on his feet.
“We will search for him at once.”
His son rose from his chair beside Miss Finchley, tossing his napkin to the table.
Miss Finchley’s high-pitched whine brought everyone to a halt. “This cannot be necessary. He will find his way back.”
Alice’s chest tightened.
“Miss Finchley,” the duke said, voice stern. “He is a child. Not a dog. I should not have him frightened one moment longer than necessary.” The expression on the duke’s face was not disgust, but certainly disapproval.
“Come, Alice.” Rupert took her hand, leading Alice from the room.
“The lantern—” She pointed to the table, and Rupert scooped it up. “We aren’t waiting for the others?”
“We will go to the stables and mobilize the grooms. The duke will want this organized, not all of us spilling out into the night to get as turned around as the boy.” Rupert cast her a reassuring smile. “We will find him, Alice. He will hear all of us calling for him.”
She hoped he was right.
Rupert’s opinion of his host improved that evening. When the Duke of Montfort organized the search party, it took him less than five minutes to make his plans clear. He divided the grooms and under-gardeners still at the castle, and all the footmen, into groups of two, giving one man in each pair the task of carrying a lantern.
Then the duke had looked at Rupert and Alice’s joined hands. His Grace’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. He claimed his son as a partner and took the center path. Everyone spread out, a distance of ten feet apart, and entered the woods, calling for the little boy.