Angelica stared at the wall in disappointed silence. “It isn’t here. The portrait of Lady Sterling should be right there.” She pointed to the vacant spot in case Lucy needed explanation.
“Perhaps Lord Sterling found it too painful to look at and had it removed?”
Angelica sighed. “It’s possible.” For some peculiar reason she’d needed to see it. She couldn’t explain why. It made no sense really, unless there was something…some indefinable manifestation beyond comprehension.
She dared not imagine, but what if the shift in the air and the cries for help had been no illusion, what if the shadows that seemed to flicker at the edge of her vision were really there? What if…
She sucked in a breath as the temperature dropped. The light from the wall sconces sputtered. A lonely wail clutched at her heart and stiffened her limbs.
“Lucy?”
“Hmm?”
Angelica gripped her friend’s arm. “Do you hear that?”
Lucy tilted her head. “Hear what?”
“The plea for help,” she whispered, glancing around, searching for something concrete she could point to as evidence.
Lucy laughed. “It’s just the wind.”
Angelica had thought so too. She’d convinced herself of it numerous times but she wasn’t so sure any more. “We should return downstairs.”
“After you made me almost run up here? I need a moment, and besides, now that we’re here, don’t you want to look at the rest of the portraits?”
She didn’t, but she would humor her friend even though all she wanted was to climb into bed. Her teeth practically chattered and her toes had gone numb in her slippers. Why didn’t Lucy feel the same way? Why didn’t anyone?
“Ah. There you are.” Mrs. Essex stood at the opposite end of the gallery. “You left the parlor without informing anyone of where you were going.”
“We meant to come straight back once we’d taken a look at the portraits,” Angelica said.
Mrs. Essex smiled as she always did, but this time there was a curious gleam in her eyes. “And did you find what you sought?”
“No,” Lucy told her. “Lady Sterling’s portrait is missing.”
Mrs. Essex’s lips stretched until her smile became an unnatural grimace. “So it is.”
She said nothing more, offered no explanation or any other useful information. She just stood there. And waited.
“I think I’ll retire for the evening,” Angelica said.
“I thought you were going to return downstairs,” Mrs. Essex remarked.
Angelica met her gaze and held it. “I changed my mind.”
The housekeeper squinted. A little snort followed. “And what of you, Miss Harlow?”
“I will also retire,” Lucy said loyally.
“Well. I shall make excuses for both of you then,” Mrs. Essex said.
She departed, leaving Lucy and Angelica alone once more. “I really don’t like her,” Angelica murmured.
“Me neither. You will have to sack her once you and Lord Sterling have wed.”
Angelica almost choked on the air she’d just inhaled. “You speak as if the matter has already been decided when I can assure you it has not. And please don’t tell me you’ve given up trying to win him for yourself.”
“He has eyes only for you, Angelica.”
“That’s not true,” Angelica said even though she believed might be.
Lucy gave her a dubious look. “Let us be honest with one another, shall we?”
“Very well.” Angelica linked her arm with Lucy’s, and together they made their way back to their bedchambers. “It is possible you may have a small point.”
“Oh really?”
“Well… He did kiss me.”
Angelica spent the next half hour in Lucy’s bedchamber, recounting every detail.
“I like your bonnet,” Lady Seraphina told Angelica the next day.
They’d left Colchester Hall roughly ten minutes earlier to go for the walk Randolph had planned. He appeared to be exerting an effort with Miss Chesterfield, but her shyness made it near impossible for anyone to carry on a conversation with her. Angelica had tried during breakfast only to give up. She admired Randolph for his persistence and for doing his best to make sure none of his guests felt left out.
She eyed Lady Seraphina suspiciously. Lucy had kept her company until a few seconds ago when she’d hurried ahead to ask her mother about a particular plant she’d spotted.
“Thank you,” Angelica said. “Yours is very stylish as well.”
Lady Seraphina smirked. “I didn’t say yours was stylish, only that I like it.”
Angelica rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she muttered. She glanced at Lady Seraphina and finally asked, “What do you want?”
“I do so love your forthright manner.” Lady Seraphina’s voice was light and breezy. It made Angelica gnash her teeth. “I think I shall try to be equally frank. You are quite obviously my only competition. The rest of that lot—” she waved her hand in the general direction of the other ladies who were walking ahead “—is hardly worth noting.”
Angelica gaped at her. She could not believe her own ears or that anyone, least of all a lady, could be so indescribably rude. It was beyond the pale and so thoroughly shocking it took a full minute at least for Angelica to put her mind in order and find her tongue.
“That lot, as you so delicately refer to them, consists of well-bred ladies. Women of your own class.” Angelica’s hands had balled into fists. She was furious, practically shaking with it. “How dare you treat them as if they’re beneath you?”
Lady Seraphina blinked. And then she laughed. “Because they are.” She gave a little twist of her wrist. “Honestly, you cannot place a farmer’s daughter on the same rung of the social ladder as I. Why, not even you have the same importance as I, but—”
“Miss Stevens’ father is one of the wealthiest men in England. He is not a farmer, but an affluent landowner.”
“Pfft…”
Dear God, she was going to have to strangle her, right here on this lovely hilltop. Angelica glanced at the steep decline to her left. There were brambles there. Just one little nudge and Lady Seraphina could be stuck in them. She grinned at the image of the other lady tumbling over the side, her feather-trimmed bonnet whipped from her head like a bird taking flight.
“Mind your step over here,” Randolph yelled. “It’s a little—”
“Well, it was lovely chatting with you,” Lady Seraphina said, “but the time has come for me to take advantage.”
Angelica wasn’t sure what she was talking about and realized she didn’t much care. She was simply glad to be rid of the woman who was now running forward, bustling her way past Miss St. James and Miss Stevens and practically elbowing her way to the front.
Lucy glanced back at Angelica as if to say, ‘what’s going on?’ Angelica merely shrugged and kept on walking. She’d almost reached the others when a sudden gust of wind swept past her, whipping her gown around her ankles. She stumbled against the force of it.
“Be careful,” Randolph warned. “No! Wait!”