“Well, get someone to find out, and if he isn’t, let him know dinner has begun,” the Earl said. “And you may start serving now. We won’t wait.”

The soup was served, an excellent mulligatawny. The footman made a reappearance as they were finishing to say, “Mr. Haworth is not in his bedroom, my lord.”

The Earl humphed. “Well, he’ll have to fend for himself. There are plenty of clocks in the house if he didn’t hear the gong.”

Even without Haworth, the gathering was excruciating. Jack Bouvier-Lynes did sterling work to fend off the silence, telling perhaps a dozen clubland stories in a row without flagging. Preston, Victoria, Pat, and Fen made appreciative noises as best they could; the Yoxalls were entirely sunk in gloom. Bill concentrated on his food, but half way through the main course he did look up and catch Pat’s eye. She offered him a smile. He didn’t smile back.

The women retired after the meal as usual. The Countess looked wrung out as they settled in the drawing room. “Victoria, will you pour the tea? Anna, where is Maurice?”

“I really couldn’t say.”

“He is your husband.”

Lady Anna lifted one elegant shoulder. Victoria said, “He wasn’t at lunch either.”

“Perhaps he went out for a walk?” Pat suggested, a remark which was greeted with the incredulity it deserved. “Yes, I know the weather is vile but he won’t melt, and he might have wanted a change of scene. Is there a public house nearby?”

“There’s nothing within twelve miles,” Victoria said. “I’m not aware he likes to walk.”

“Of course he doesn’t. Maurice finds the countryside as dull as I do.” Lady Anna sounded entirely contemptuous. “I don’t know why you’re making a fuss. He is a grown man; if he doesn’t choose to take dinner, let him be.”

“Yes, but has anyone seen him today?” Victoria pressed.

“Fen and I saw him around half past eleven,” Pat offered.

The other women shook their heads. The Countess shut her eyes. “Is there no limit— For heaven’s sake. Victoria, will you go back to the dining room and ask the gentlemen?”

Pat couldn’t help glancing at Lady Anna as Victoria left. It was tiresome to be called upon for every little task, as she well knew, but she wondered how it must feel when one’s mother always turned to her goddaughter instead.

Victoria was back a few moments later, frowning. “Nobody has seen him since before luncheon. And he didn’t express an intention to go anywhere to any of the men.”

The Countess’s eyelids drooped. “Ring the bell,” she told Victoria, and the footman from dinner duly appeared. “Dennis, thank you. Did you check Mr. Haworth’s room?”

“Yes, ma’am. He wasn’t there.”