Page 56 of The Bridal Quest

"Well, I know the fellow went to London to make inquiries, but no one had seen them," Pansy offered weakly.

"And that is all you can remember about the affair?" Lady Odelia asked.

"It was a long time ago!" Pansy flared up. "And we were all rather overset at the time. I— My memory is perhaps not the best."

"It sounds as though this man Owenby is the person to talk to," Irene remarked. "Is he still alive, Lady Radbourne?"

Pansy turned to Irene with a look almost of horror. "No! I mean, well, yes, he is alive, but he no longer works here. He, um, left our employ after Cecil died."

"Does he live in the village? Gideon—I mean, Lord Radbourne—could go talk to him."

Pansy blinked, then said weakly, "Oh, I am sure that is unnecessary. My grandson needn't speak to the man. It would—it would be too painful, surely."

"Nonsense," her sister told her stoutly. "Why should it be painful? I imagine the boy would like to learn all he can about what happened to him. Better to know, isn't it, than to wonder?"

"Better to know what?"

Everyone turned to look at the doorway, where Gideon stood looking at them. He repeated, "Better to know what? Wonder about what? Is this boy you are discussing me, Aunt Odelia?"

"Yes, of course. Irene brought up the subject of what happened to you all those years ago."

"Did she now?" Gideon's gaze flickered to her.

"Yes," Irene replied, facing him calmly. "I am sorry if you find the matter disturbing. I had some questions ..."

"As you know I do," he told her. "And I do not find the matter disturbing. How like you, of course, to charge the battlements." A smile flickered across his lips. He turned toward his grandmother. "I should have broached the subject earlier with you."

"Pansy was telling us that the man your father sent in search of you is still alive," Lady Odelia told him, taking charge. "He could tell you much more about it, I am sure."

"Your grandmother was just about to tell us where Owenby lives now," Irene added, bringing the conversation back to the question she had asked Pansy just before Gideon came into the room, a question that she noticed the woman had never answered. Gideon's grandmother, she thought, seemed peculiarly reluctant to talk about the whole incident.

Pansy shot her a look that, coming from some other woman, would have been venomous, but which from Pansy came across as more agonized than fierce. "Lady Irene ... it really ..." She swiveled her head toward Gideon but obviously found no comfort there. "I—I'm not sure where the valet went. But really, Gideon, there is little point in your seeing him." Her face turned entreating. "It would be better if you just let this whole matter ... remain in the past."

Gideon looked at her for a long moment. "No, I don't think so. I am sorry if this distresses you, Grandmother, but I would like to talk to this man. Owenby, you said his name was?"

"Please, Gideon ..." Pansy's voice was soft, seemingly on the verge of tears. "What good will this accomplish? Owenby probably does not remember it well. It was so long ago."

"Oh, stop being such a ninny, Pansy," Lady Odelia told her sister bluntly. "As if he wouldn't remember charging all over the country, searching for a gang of kidnappers!"

"Odelia!" Pansy looked from her to Gideon. "Please, can we not talk about something more pleasant?"

Gideon's expression hardened. "Why are you so reluctant to discuss this? Do you not want me to learn the truth? Are you afraid that I will find out how very little my father cared? How little interest he showed in finding me?"

"No!" Pansy cried. "Cecil cared! He was devastated! You must not think that your father was indifferent. He was in such a state—I have never seen a man more overset than he was. She didn't deserve his sorrow!"

Gideon froze. The air was suddenly thick with silence.

"What?" Gideon asked at last. "What do you mean, 'she didn't deserve his sorrow'? Are you talking about my mother?"

"No! I didn't mean—" Pansy cast a panicky look around the room.

"Pansy!" Lady Odelia's voice was sharp and commanding. "Stop dithering. Tell me right now—what did you mean by that?"

Pansy looked as if she might faint, but finally she squared her shoulders. "Forgive me, Cecil," she murmured, throwing a glance upward, then added, in a stronger voice, "But I refuse to let you believe that your father was not concerned about you, Gideon. It was Selene who separated you from your father and your family."

"What?" She was greeted by a chorus of astonished voices.

Pansy raised her chin somewhat defiantly. "You were not kidnapped, Gideon. Your mother ran off with her lover and took you with her."