Page 43 of His Scandalous Duchess (Icy Dukes #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“ A bigail is missing. I came here as fast as I could.”

Cecilia’s fingers stilled where they had been gently brushing her nephew’s hair. The toy rattle slipped from her grasp and landed on the rug with a soft clatter. Her head turned sharply, eyes narrowing in disbelief as she faced Norman, who stood breathless at the threshold of the drawing room.

“I beg your pardon?” she said slowly, as though the words would sound different if she gave them time to settle.

“Valentine can’t find her. The staff have searched the entire estate.” His voice was tight, urgent. “She is not there. They think…well, we think she may have gone looking for you on foot. That’s the only explanation.”

“Are you – What did –” Cecilia could barely make a sentence.

“She vanished from the house sometime this morning. No one saw her leave–”

“What do you mean no one saw her?” Cecilia’s voice pitched high, her breath already coming too fast. “Who was watching her? Where was Miss Flaxman?”

Emma joined them where they stood. “Cecilia –”

“She’s six, Norman,” Cecilia continued, panting. “She cannot just disappear! There are footmen, there are maids, gardeners, how could no one see her go? There is no way she would have left to look for me.”

Norman opened his mouth, but she cut in, her voice rising, cracking. “Abigail won’t leave the estate alone; she’s scared of the path that leads to the gate. She won’t walk that path alone. She knows no other exit. So…”

She stopped. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling like she’d run a mile, but she forced herself to close her eyes. To think . Abigail wouldn’t go far, not beyond the walls. There was no way she could have left the estate without anyone seeing her.

Which meant...

“There’s a path,” she said suddenly, eyes snapping open. “From the garden. It leads to a lake. It’s hidden behind the lilac hedge. Did anyone check the lake, Norman?”

“The lake?” he echoed, blinking. “No, I don’t think that was on the map Valentine drew out. We split the staff to search the woods, the road, the village route....”

Cecilia whirled toward the doorway. “Then someone needs to check it now . She used to go there sometimes, when she was upset. She calls it her thinking place. There’s a little flat patch of grass by the reeds where she lies down and watches the clouds.”

“There’s another place,” Cecilia interrupted, “Near the east gate. Just before the bend in the orchard wall. There’s a staircase, and she hides under it sometimes, when she wants to be alone. No one would think to look there if they didn’t know.”

He paused, eyes narrowing. “That wasn’t marked either. Cecilia, Valentine was convinced that she had gone looking for you, so he left the search in the hands of the staff and went to your father’s house to look for you.”

“What?” Her voice was sharp. “Why?”

“According to him, she might try to find you. But I think he is terrified and he doesn’t know what to do, so he needs support.

But it wasn’t until after he’d already gone that I remembered something.

” Norman’s brows drew together. “The night of the dinner, you left with your sister, who is the Duchess of Montclaire, so I figured you’d be here.

So, I sent a carriage after Valentine with a message for him to return to the estate. That I will bring you.”

Cecilia turned to Emma and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’ll see you later, I have to go now.”

Emma nodded immediately. “Take anything you need. Find her, all right?”

Cecilia gave a tight, breathless nod before making her way out of the room.

The journey back to Ashbourne felt endless.

The horses moved as fast as they could, but to Cecilia, every second ticked like an hour.

The wheels clattered over the road, and the world beyond the windows blurred into gray.

Her hands were clenched in her lap, white-knuckled and cold, as her mind raced through every possibility, each more dreadful than the last.

As soon as they turned into the long Ashbourne drive, Cecilia leaned out of the window, squinting through the fading daylight, as if she might somehow spot Abigail darting across the lawn. But there was only wind and shadow.

The carriage barely came to a stop before she was out.

“Go,” she told Norman, breath hitching. “Check under the stairs near the gate like I told you. I’m going to the lake.”

“I will,” he said at once, already moving. “I’ll let Valentine know too.”

The wind tangled her hair and stung her cheeks as she raced through the garden.

She did not care. Her shoes sank into the damp earth as she hurried, heart pounding, whispering a prayer with every step.

The trees grew thicker as she neared the lake.

The stillness was eerie, unnatural. She slowed only when the water came into view, her eyes scanning the banks, the reeds, the moss-covered stone where Abigail liked to sit and toss pebbles.

“Abigail?” her voice rang out. “Abigail, are you here?”

No answer.

A flicker of movement caught Cecilia’s eye, barely a ripple on the far side of the lake. She stepped closer, holding her breath, with all hope almost lost. But then, she caught a glimpse of a figure inside the water.

“Abigail!” The name left her lips in a gasp, one part relief, three parts panic.

Abigail was waist-deep in the water, arms folded tightly across her chest, her soaked chemise clinging to her skin. Her back was to Cecilia, hair plastered wetly to her neck.

“Abigail.” Cecilia moved to the edge of the bank, trying to keep her voice calm and steady. “What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing! How long have you been here?”

Abigail said nothing.

Cecilia’s knees buckled and she crashed onto the ground, scared, annoyed by Abigail’s tactics, but very relieved that she was alright. “Oh, thank God.”

“Go away,” came Abigail’s small voice, petulant and cold. “You left.”

Cecilia blinked, her mouth falling open. “Is that why you did this? Why you made everyone worry about you?”

Cecilia bundled her shawl around Abigail’s shivering shoulders, her hands trembling as she rubbed warmth into the little girl’s arms. “You must never do that again,” she said. “Do you understand me, Abigail?”

Abigail looked up, eyes wide but still stubborn. “I was only waiting for you,” she mumbled.

“But not like this.” Cecilia crouched to meet her gaze, gently gripping both her arms. “You’ve been in that water since morning. It’s almost dark. You might fall ill.”

Abigail turned her face away.

“I’m serious.” Cecilia reached up and cupped her damp cheek, trying to soften the severity in her tone. “You’re cold and you’re shivering. What if something had happened to you? What if no one had found you? Do you know how frightened I was?”

“You left,” Abigail whispered, blinking quickly. “I woke up and you were gone that day. Miss Flaxman reads to me, but she doesn’t read like you. She doesn’t read Goody Two Shoes.”

Cecilia’s heart broke a little more. “I’m sorry. But I wasn’t gone for long I only went to see Emma for a little while. If you missed me, you could’ve told your papa. He would have brought you to me.”

Abigail’s lip wobbled. “Would he?”

“Of course he would. He loves you.” Cecilia took her small hand and held it close. “But what you did today, hiding and scaring everyone, you must never do it again. You cannot punish people like that, not when it’s dangerous. You had the whole household in a panic. I was in a panic.”

Abigail looked up at her then, guilt tugging at her little brow. “I didn’t want to punish anyone. I just…I wanted you.”

Cecilia’s throat tightened. “I’m here now.” She pulled Abigail closer, wrapping her arms around her again, trying to pass her warmth into the child’s freezing limbs. “But next time, tell someone. Ask for me. Don’t go hiding in cold water all day.”

“Promise you’ll stay?”

Cecilia hesitated just for a second. Then she nodded. “I promise I won’t vanish like that again. But you must promise me, too, no more running off. Ever.”

Abigail nodded slowly against her shoulder.

“Good girl.” Cecilia kissed her damp curls. “Let’s get you inside before you turn into an icicle.”

Cecilia rose quickly, too quickly. After hours of panic and the rush of fear finally ebbing, the world tilted sharply on its axis. Her vision blurred. A cold rush of nausea swelled up her chest. She wobbled.

“Wait, ” she managed to say, her hand reaching out for balance but finding nothing but air.

Then she was falling, backwards, her heel slipping on the mossy stones near the lake’s edge, and a splash tore through the quiet.

Water closed over her with a shocking chill, swallowing the scream in her throat.

She surfaced, gasping, arms flailing, the weight of her gown dragging her down.

She couldn’t see. She couldn’t find her footing. Panic surged.

She kicked out blindly, her hands slapping against the surface, but it was no use. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t...

“Help!” Abigail’s voice rang out, shrill and terrified. “Help! Cecilia cannot swim!”

The shout reached him like a gunshot.

“Help! Cecilia cannot swim!”

Valentine’s blood turned to ice.

He ran. The trees blurred. Branches clawed at his coat, mud sucked at his boots, but he didn’t stop, not for breath, not for sense. The only thing he could hear, louder than the pounding of his feet, louder than Abigail’s screams, was the panicked thrum of his own heart.

The moment he saw her. In the middle of the lake, thrashing, her arms barely keeping above the surface. Her dark hair deepening in the water, it felt as though his soul left his body.

Instantly, he flung off his jacket and was in the water.

There was no thought. No hesitation. The cold struck like a blade, stealing the air from his lungs, but he pushed forward, stroking hard toward where he had last seen her.

Panic clawed at him as he dove beneath the surface, eyes stinging, searching.