Philomena had a suspicion that the Dowager was a little in awe of her son. She would want Hugh to know how reasonable she had been in his absence. Philomena laughed bitterly at the thought.

Next day, she left the house quietly and unobtrusively, and on arrival at the station, she insisted the coachman leave her. He argued. “Her Ladyship said to see you on to the train, and that is what I shall do.”

His will was no match for Philomena’s, however. She easily persuaded him that he would endure a long and dull wait before the train arrived. He could spend a far more interesting morning with a certain young girl of his acquaintance in the village. Succumbing to temptation, Ince left Philomena to wait by herself, safe in the presence of the local stationmaster.

Philomena found a quiet corner in the waiting room and sat until the London train arrived. Unobserved, she slipped aboard.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hugh arrived home, tired to the bone, angry and defeated, coldly furious to have failed in his task. He had found no trace of Philomena’s uncle. The trail had turned quite cold.

No one came out from the Hall to greet him. Used to a cheerful welcome from the servants, he was surprised to receive little more than a perfunctory curtsey from Mrs. Rivers and a courteous bow from the butler.

“Is something amiss?” he asked Martin as the valet followed him up to his room. “Where is my mother? Or Miss Selena? And John? Are they away from the house?”

Martin stared at the floor and shuffled his feet.

“Come on, man,” said Hugh, growing anxious. “What’s wrong? Tell me, now, or I’ll find another who will.”

“My lord.” Martin avoided his master’s eye. “No one is ill, but there have been some changes while you were away.”

“Good God, I’ve only been gone a few days. What can have happened in that time, in my own house?” Hugh peered at Martin and saw anxiety in the familiar face. “Come on, man. Has John been stealing from the kitchen again?”

Martin, still shifting from foot to foot, took a breath. His words tumbled over one another in his haste to get the matter over. “Master John has a new governess, my lord, who arrived yesterday. Miss Selena is a little upset.”

Hugh stared. “What of Miss Philomena?” His heart raced. “Is she also upset?”

Martin swallowed, his adam’s apple jerking nervously. “She’s gone, my lord,” said the faithful valet, backing away as the thunder gathered on his master’s brow.

“Gone.” said Hugh. “Gone? Come, man, be clear with me. I do not understand. Where has she gone? Who with?” He glared.

Martin pursed his lips, his mouth firmly shut.

“Oh, no matter.” Hugh strode to the door and bellowed, “Where is Lady Thatcham?”