Chapter Ten
Despite her depressingly fragile state Annabelle dressed with a determined mind. One week. In one week she would leave. In few days she would waken and blindly set out into the world with nothing but her freedom. Costly, bittersweet freedom. After a week, there would be nothing to tie her to Melbourne House any longer. The last remaining reason lay sleeping inside the room she approached.
She smiled softly.
Logan was in no way guilty for the utter mess her life had become. How could she possibly take off and leave him to the mercy of Mrs. Melbourne and her demon spawn? No. There was no way she could leave him. He could leave her, as he undoubtedly would within a week, but until then he needed her. And for the sake of her remaining sanity, she needed him as well.
Opening Logan's door slowly, Annabelle stopped.
The velvet bed hangings remained closed, yet the small child was nowhere in sight. The tousled coverings alerted Annabelle's doubting mind that she indeed had put him down, but that being the case, where was he?
Casting a sweeping glance across the room as she walked in, Annabelle called quietly, "Logan?" her soft voice permeating the glum silence.
No response.
She swallowed. Cold beads of sweat gathered at her pores as the room suddenly shrunk around her. Shaking her head, she forced her brain into assuming control of her body. If it were for her emotions, she'd already be running through the house in a state of downright panic.
But how could she have been so stupid? Had he not tried running away the prior night?
Cupping her mouth, she spun--Perhaps he was hiding? Yes. Boys about his age found strange pleasure in hiding and scaring others. Maybe he hid under the bed.
Fully embracing the possibility, Annabelle stalked sneakily around the bed, "I wonder where my favorite gentleman could possibly be." Smiling while bending slowly she yanked up the bed skirts--
Nothing.
Annabelle snapped back to sitting, fear mounting its attack. But she shrugged it off resolutely albeit naïvely believing that he simply hid. After all, she hadn't checked the draping curtains!
Gazing to the arched windows, no feet peeked from beneath the hunter green curtains.Feeling sick to her stomach, Annabelle rose slowly, her shallow breaths quickening. Where else could he possibly be?
'The wardrobe!'
Right! The wardrobe! Abandoning her prior belief, Annabelle tore open the wardrobe doors-- Lord in heaven. He wasn't there. Dropping lifeless hands, Annabelle stumbled back. There was nowhere else the boy could be. The room was indeed empty.
Succumbing to the early onsets of panic, Annabelle slapped her face. She couldn't lose her wits! Logan was probably...probably with his father. Yes! Nathaniel must have returned from his ride and woken Logan. Or perhaps Logan woke first and then went with his father--She cursed. Did it matter who woke or returned first? What mattered was that Logan was safe with his father. Or was he?
Annabelle wiped her hands on her skirt, resignedly releasing a sigh. There was obviously only one way to make sure.
Closing the nursery door with a gentle click, Annabelle purposely walked down the corridor. Though dreading the next task, she pushed it from her mind. Granted, she'd have to see Nathaniel but was anything more important at the moment than ascertaining Logan's safety?
A door opened from behind but Annabelle padded forward.
"Well if it isn't the fancy nurse!" an arched voice taunted from behind, forcing Annabelle's steps to a halt. Cursing inwardly, she briefly closed her eyes. She would have to stop. To blatantly disregard Beatrice's comment and continue to walk would be beyond question, as fitting as it seemed. Besides, with Beatrice's favorite pastime consisting of watching through the various windows the comings and goings of the household, she would know if Nathaniel had returned.
Beatrice approached then offered Annabelle a teasing curtsey, "I suppose you're too good to stop for a chat with a servant such as me."
Putting on a good face, Annabelle managed a weak giggle, "Certainly not," she replied, her voice cracking slightly under worry, "But tell me Beatrice, has Lord Hamilton returned from riding?"
Beatrice didn't answer immediately, a distant look sweeping over her eyes.
"Now that you mention it, no," Beatrice said finally, her tone light and unconcerned, much to Annabelle's dismay, "Only Mr. Melbourne returned."
Beatrice stepped closer, reducing her voice to a whisper, "And might I add, Mr. Melbourne is in the library now with the most distasteful and horrid woman!" she tattled but her words were in vain as they were barely heard over Annabelle's racing pulse.
Blinking away dawning tears, Annabelle echoed solemnly, "Lord Hamilton isn't here." She suddenly felt everything spin out of control as a sick, frigid terror wound itself around her thundering heart.
Beatrice looked on concerned, "Martha, you're quite pale. Are you all well?"
"Yes, yes. It's just I stepped away for a moment while Logan slept but his room is empty and he tends to run away..." her voice trailed off under the memory of Nathaniel's words from that very first day.
"Oh!" Beatrice gasped in sudden recollection, "He is with Mrs. Melbourne and Miss Madeline walking the grounds, "
What!
"I saw them just now through the mending room window walking through the gardens. But I must say Martha, leaving the poor child under the care of those two is perhaps not the wisest of choices." Beatrice casually leaned against the flowered wall, "The child is as good as alone. The last I saw, they barely noticed as he skipped along in the opposite direction. Had it not been for one of the groundskeepers, he would have skipped right into the forest. Could you imagine the horror of that poor boy all alone with countless ponds and streams? "
Annabelle was aghast. If Mrs. Melbourne and Madeline weren't careful...
Dashing off and leaving the rest of Beatrice's words unheard, Annabelle lifted her skirt and descended the main staircase desperately. Fully aware that servants were supposed to use the servant stairs, she bolted forth, dashing it all to hell. Swallowing all fear of falling, she jumped from the last three stairs, hastening past the library when suddenly--
"James, you fool!" a woman's familiar voice blared, apparently castigating Mr. Melbourne. They were obviously acquainted as she dared call him by his Christian name.
Annabelle's better half urged her to continue on her plight to find Logan but the shock and overwhelming curiosity at hearing Mrs. Hawkins' voice drew her feet to the door. Pressing closer to better hear, Annabelle held her unsteady breath.
The dark and desperate mood of the room seeped through the key hole as Mr. Melbourne crossly retorted--
"What in the devils are you doing here Miranda? It is most unwise of you to come here considering our arrangement--"
Annabelle stifled a gasp. What on earth was Nathaniel's mother doing there?
"How dare you insult me with your boorish reprimands!" Mrs. Hawkins fumed dryly, "After all these years you think me stupid enough to arrive in my own carriage? Please! And might I add that due to your ridiculous actions I was forced to wait outside the gates like a thief lest William see me enter. Thankfully you drew him from the house long enough for me to enter through the servant entrance....the servant entrance!" her voice shook angrily, "How many more atrocities will you force me to endure! I cannot believe you didn't consult this with me first. Really James!"
Mr. Melbourne cleared his throat, "How could I possibly consult you with your being everywhere from Paris to India, Miranda? I sent you countless letters! I needed to guarantee that he would choose Madeline to be his wife. Did you not hear the rumors? There was tattle of William and Lady Cartright spending much time together at Season. I was desperate! How could my Madeline ever compete with the Duke of Cromwall's daughter!"
A chill rippled through Annabelle. Surely they spoke of Nathaniel...
"You were stupid!" Mrs. Hawkins exploded, "I told you he would marry whomever I chose for him, titled or not. I was his governess and nanny for years James. I am practically his mother."
Holding the door frame, Annabelle shook her head, dazed. Practically his mother? But she was his mother! Good God. What were they all playing to?
The rant continued, "Did you not think I would arrange for it to be Madeline?"
"Like I said, I needed to be sure and obviously my letter startled him enough for him to arrive here within a days' notice. I myself hurried back from London in attempts to hide the girl before he arrived but I only arrived this morning. My wife had already appointed the girl as the young master's nurse."
Annabelle's throat constricted. They were talking of her!
"But why the uproar Miranda? He will be gone within a day's time."
"You idiot! Do you know what you've put into motion! All our hard work could be ruined. Ruined I tell you if he even suspects who she is! I never should have told you of her importance."
Resisting trepidation, Annabelle leaned closer into the door. What could possibly be ruined if he learned of her? Lack of answers birthed an overwhelming frustration but Annabelle physically shook off the despair and listened.
"Please calm down Miranda. Your worry might all be in vain. She was merely a simple girl from his past. His lordship hasn't even realized--"
"But he will! And if he doesn't, she will! What then?! And then to make her Logan's nurse?! You've no doubt lost your senses!"
"My wife knows nothing of our arrangement Miranda--"
"Enough!" a glass shattered, sending Annabelle flinching back, "We need to remedy this, instantly! Where is Lord Hamilton now?"
"We went out for a ride this morning," Mr. Melbourne replied, "I returned prematurely because of this dreaded cough-"
"I don't care about your cough James! Die and I would be free of you and your imbecilities!" she growled lowly, "Where is she?"
Annabelle froze.
"I do not know. With the boy perhaps, shall I have Luther fetch her?"
Dear God! That was it. It was obviously time to leave. Time to recollect and figure out what to do. Time to--
'...find Logan.'
Logan!
Hurrying from the door, Annabelle dashed down the corridor and burst through the double doors. There would be time to think, but she needed to find Logan first. Then she could worry! Instantly hearing the distant arched theatrics of Madeline, Annabelle quickened her pace toward the voice. Madeline and Mrs. Melbourne conveniently strolled along the path Nathaniel would undoubtedly take upon returning from the stables. Pair of conniving witches they were.
Briskly walking to the seemingly engaged women twirling parasols, Annabelle came to an abrupt stop. All was as it should have been...except for the small boy that should have been nearby chasing frogs.
The ground seemed to shake beneath Annabelle's feet but she quickly chastised herself. No good would come of panic. She had to focus. A boy as little as Logan could not have gone that far.
'but in which direction?'
That was the question. Resuming her near run, Annabelle came upon Madeline and Mrs. Melbourne, "I beg your pardon Miss, but I was told young Master Logan was with you yet I do not see him anywhere." the wobble in her voice betraying her seemingly unworried façade.
Madeline scoffed, "You have some nerve directing a word at me after your atrocious behavior this morning, you filthy little whore--"
"Enough Madeline," Mrs. Melbourne snapped, opening her fan in a likewise manner. Majestically airing herself, she spoke haughtily, "above all, always remember you are a lady first."
Canine second, thought Annabelle indignantly but ignoring her anger, she opened her mouth to reply. Just then Mrs. Melbourne cut her off, "As for you Martha," her eyes darkened in an unnatural manner for anyone with a soul, "Is that dreaded boy not your responsibility?"
Cupping her mouth, Annabelle stumbled back as her last fragment of composure shattered. White hot panic seared her veins. Or was it rage?
Forgetting company and place, she called his name. Quietly at first but when no one answered, her octave rose, "Logan!"
No answer.
Spinning wildly to see if he approached, the lack of movement left a dull aching in her chest. Suddenly a distinct sound ushered the situation into further layers of horrid. Resounding footsteps upon cobblestone presaged Nathaniel's arrival. A light chuckle snapped Annabelle's attention back to Mrs. Melbourne who abruptly closed her fan with a wicked smile.
"Good day" Nathaniel soon greeted, looking about the gathered group curiously.
Turning, Annabelle met his eyes which held a dangerous spark, as they always had when his mind was wrapped tightly around a matter but his disposition quickly fell when Madeline ran into his arms, "My lord! Logan is missing!"
Opportunistic hussy! Just like her to run and tell, more than likely at the urging of her mother!
His eyes flew to Annabelle.
"Martha," he began, but paused. Noting the worry that undoubtedly encrusted itself on every part of Annabelle's face, his eyes widened slightly. He said nothing but the slight tilt of his head begged Annabelle to answer his unspoken question. She could have died.
Annabelle stepped forward, shaking her head reluctantly, "My lord," she whimpered apologetically, unable to mouth another word.
A painfully awkward moment passed. Then another. Then finally, in the stillness, words proved unnecessary as Nathaniel's face paled. He said slowly, "Martha, where is he?"
Annabelle stared on in horror. An unbelieving fist flew to her mouth as his question echoed painfully in her head. How could she tell him she hadn't a clue? That he could be anywhere?
"She's lost him my lord!" Madeline thrust herself forward, hanging shamelessly from his arm, "She hasn't a clue where he is!"
"Damn you!" Annabelle exploded, "You took him-"
"Martha, "Nathaniel blatantly ignored all argument, "where is Logan?"
Opening her mouth, Annabelle intended to confess when-
"Martha!" a terrified Beatrice shrilled, running toward her. Her lack of coloring rippled through Annabelle.
"Logan," she slurred though frantic tears and fearful gray eyes, "I saw him from the window! His hat flew off into the pond by the stables!"
The world stopped. As did Annabelle's heart. Closing her eyes she prayed Beatrice wouldn't utter the next words--
"He's gone in after it!"
Dear God.
In the moment it took for the words to hit Annabelle's paused world, Nathaniel was gone. The shallow thud of his hat hitting the green lawn finally ripped Annabelle from the shock and before her next breath she found herself running, able to see Nathaniel's much faster figure in the distance. Frantic tears blurred the path, causing trips and painful falls. Rogue branches cast her skin mercilessly, cutting her as she ran past but it didn't matter! It was punishment! Surely it was punishment for having left him! If anything happened to Logan, the entire fault would be on her, her own personal blame included. But certainly Nathaniel's reigning king.
Running into the clearing as if stepping into the theater, the sun sparkled against the calm water as the trees swayed gently to the imaginary rhythm of the wind. And there, in the midst of such soul stirring beauty the curtains closed on the tragic final scene. The one where panic, desperation; worry, guilt, and dread all collectively looked down at a desperate father roaring over the body of his beautiful, saturated, sleeping son.
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