Another grunt as Telly added a heaping spoonful of sugar to his cup.
There was nothing like his best friend’s daily foul humor to restore his own. “Well, it’s hardly an insult if it’s true. Though I do wonder who the culprit was if they woke both of us.” While he could imagine Beth pulling such a prank on him, he couldn’t think why she’d do it to Telford.
After a sip of tea, Telly moved on to filling a plate, leaving the space in front of the water urn open to Sheridan. He fixed his cup, looking toward the door when he heard footsteps. Two sets of them, from the sound of it.
Tremayne and Mamm-wynn filled the door a moment later. Their host was frowning. “She couldn’t have waited until we were all up before she went?” he said.
Sheridan’s fingers went tight around his cup. He had the distinct feeling they weren’t frowning over Mrs. Dawe.
Mamm-wynn shook her head. “Lady Emily was ready to go home, and it seemed wise to let them beat the rain there. They left about an hour ago. But . . .” The lady lifted a trembling hand and pressed it to her chest. Her gaze moved from her grandson’s face to Telford and then Sheridan. She looked relieved to see them all there. And yet too worried to be truly relieved. There was something strange in her eyes, which looked nearly unfocused. “Oh good. You all heard my summons.”
Sheridan put the cup back down. “You’re the one who woke us up?”
The lady’s gaze locked on his and sent a shiver down his spine. “A good prince ought to go and find the fair damsel in such a time. Don’t you think?”
He had no idea what such this time was, but he set his teacup back down on the sideboard. “Right. Where are we off to, then? Do you think she tried to run and hide again?”
Her eyes seemed to bore straight through him, but she pressed her lips together rather than reply. And reached that trembling hand out toward him.
Sheridan darted a questioning gaze at Oliver but, at the chap’s blank look, simply took Mamm-wynn’s hand in his own and let her squeeze it. Which she did, hard and long. Pointedly. Which probably oughtn’t to have made panic boil up in his chest, but it did.
He’d heard Oliver and Libby murmuring about the lady’s second sight and how it had played such a role in the events earlier that summer. But he hadn’t quite expected to see its reemergence now, to be perfectly honest. And he wasn’t entirely certain that’s what this was. But it felt momentous somehow. Grave. Urgent.
He squeezed her delicate fingers in reply and turned his eyes more steadily on Beth’s brother. “You’ll have to man the sails, Tremayne. I don’t know the waters well enough. And offer the boat, of course. I daresay your uncle hasn’t yet finished the one I just commissioned.”
Oliver was still frowning at his grandmother, but after a moment he refocused on Sheridan and nodded, looking less convinced than concerned.
During this exchange, Telford had taken a seat at the table and was hunkered over his plate and cup like a brooding bear. Sheridan released Mrs. Tremayne’s fingers and slapped him on the shoulder. “Hurry up, old boy. Down the hatch. We leave in five minutes.”
Apparently fully set on his bear persona, Telford emitted what could only be termed a growl. Sheridan chuckled and turned back toward the door and the Tremaynes. His friend might grumble, but he’d be ready to leave with the rest of them.
For his own part, he’d better go and fetch his mackintosh and wellies. Though he paused beside Mamm-wynn to press a kiss to her silk-soft cheek. “Don’t worry, lady fair. We’ll bring the princess home again directly.”
She rewarded him with a wobbling smile and a brush of her hand over his cheek. “You’re a good lad, Theo.”
He thanked her with a wink and jogged toward his guest room, trying to convince himself that the tightness in his chest was merely for her sake. Or at the prospect of a small adventure. That it wasn’t worry for the yet-again-missing Beth. Because really, if she’d only been gone an hour, there was no real cause for alarm. She couldn’t possibly have even been due back yet, unless she tossed Lady Emily to the quay at St. Mary’s and sped immediately home again, without taking any time to visit with her there.
That logic did nothing to convince his heart to beat at its usual pace. He banged his way through his door, muttering an apology when it made Ainsley start where he stood reorganizing something or another in a drawer. “Mackintosh. Wellies. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Ainsley blinked at him. “You’re not meaning to go out in this.” He motioned to the window, which revealed a new deluge streaming down from the heavens.
It was enough to make a man think another jaunt to Egypt might be just the thing. Well, once Beth had begged him for another chance to convince him to marry her. It would be much more fun with her by his side. “No choice,” he said cheerfully to Ainsley. “Mamm-wynn’s worried about Beth being out. We need to go and see she’s well.”
“Why wouldn’t she be? I heard her leave only an hour ago, and if she sailed through that pea soup of a fog a few weeks ago, she can certainly handle a little rain shower.”
“True. But who’s going to argue with Mamm-wynn?”
In answer, Ainsley handed over his raincoat and boots. “Try not to take an unscheduled dip in the Atlantic this time, will you?”
Sheridan just grinned and spun toward his door.
“My lord.”
He paused, turned back.
Ainsley was frowning. “I had a note waiting for me when I woke up from my cousin. I was right. He wants to chat with me this morning, and I have no doubts at all about what he’ll say. He’ll try to get me to give him information. I didn’t want to go without telling you.”
Sheridan grinned. “Feed him something ridiculous to pass along to the Scofields, then. Something that will have them looking the other way while your mother goes to Paris.”
A bit of a smile overtook Ainsley’s frown. “And I’ll see to that wire you composed for your sisters about said trip. Thank you again for that.”
Sheridan tried his best lecture-in-a-blink. “As we already established, Harry, it’s your mother.” Which meant nothing more needed to be said on the matter—and he trusted Ainsley implicitly to know what to say to Smithfield.
For his own part, Sheridan would concentrate on Beth. He hurried back down the corridor and was the first to convene at the front door, but Telford soon stomped his way there, too, face darker than the storm clouds outside. Oliver was only a moment behind.
Their host looked as worried as Sheridan was trying not to feel. “I’d love to tell you both that I’m certain this is nothing, and that we’ll probably pass Beth a few minutes out. But . . .” He looked over his shoulder, toward the house at large. “But Mamm-wynn has a strange history of being right about this sort of thing.”
“Indeed. Proving, as we were discussing last night, that God and Christianity aren’t half so boring as people today try to make Him.” Sheridan took the liberty of pulling open the door, thereby letting in a gust of warm, wet air. “I don’t suppose she mentioned where we ought to begin looking for Beth, though?”
Tremayne sighed and shook his head, leading the way outside. “I was rather hoping she’d whispered something in your ear that I didn’t catch. I asked her, but she just got that look in her eyes and said something about her little rosefinch always flying too far.”