JAMES' HEAD SWIVELLED between the two empty chairs a few seats down from him. Frowning, he turned towards Aunt Esme, "Where are Fiona and Vivienne?"

His great-aunt's eyes focused on the seats, and she wiped her mouth with the napkin before leaning to his side. "They went for a walk earlier, I thought they might have retired to their room to rest. It is possible they slept through the dinner gong; I'll have a tray sent up to them if they are too tired to come down."

He dipped his head and his great-aunt gestured to one of the footmen, discreetly whispering her instructions. James should have been satisfied but the unease still didn't go away, he didn't know why.

"You have a good shot, Lennox." Lord Albermay commented.

James nodded once; he couldn't return the sentiment because Albermay was a terrible shot. While the rest of the gentlemen were able to shoot down the birds with relative ease, it remained quite the difficult task for Albermay. Although James had to admit, Albermany remained a good sport—something he couldn't say about many other gentlemen.

"How many birds did you shoot down, Your Grace?" One of the other lady's asked him. He didn't remember her name, but she had been crawling for his affection since the first day of the house party.

"Too many to keep count," Headfort said with a snort before he gave the lady a devilish smile. "Although Miss. Julia, you might be please to know that I took down more birds than Lennox."

"Now, now, we mustn't bore the ladies with talk of our hunt," Berkeley cut it smoothly.

Headfort gave him an annoyed look, but James was thankful for the interruption. Although he dearly cared for his friend, he did not want any sort of debauchery occurring under his roof. Headfort could do whatever he wanted once he returned to his own home.

"It's good that you went on the hunt earlier in the morning, the weather has taken quite the turn," Lady Albermay commented from across her husband.

Indeed, the slight sounds of rain hitting the ground could be heard over the chatter of the guest. They were lucky not to have been caught in the downpour. The path to the manor might have flooded and they would be stuck in the woods. The conversation continued as a footman approached the corner of the table.

"The maids checked both of their rooms, my Lady. They weren't there."

James' heart leapt but he forced himself to calm down. They could be anywhere in the manor.

"What do you mean they weren't there?" Lady Torrington's sharp voice rose across the rest of the chatter.

The other guest paused awkwardly before Lady Albermay asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I apologize for my outburst. There was an issue in the kitchen."

Lady Albermay's eyes lit up in acknowledgement. James supposed the lady could understand hosting issues, more than anyone else at the table. The guest returned to their meals, but James no longer felt hungry. He met Headfort's gaze who gave him a confused look. James discreetly pointed towards the empty chair which should have been occupied by Fiona. The moment Headfort understood his message, his face paled.

"Are Lady Vivienne and Lady Fiona feeling well?" Miss Julia asked Lady Torrington innocently.

He missed his aunt's response as Martin, his butler approached and bent so he was near ear level.

"Your Grace," he said softly. "I heard you inquiring about Lady Vivienne and Lady Fiona. They both left to travel to the village earlier this morning."

"What?" James said angrily, unable to digest the news. "And you didn't think to stop them?"

"Respectfully Your Grace, it is not my place to tell ladies what they may, or may not do."

James nodded, "Yes of course, I misspoke."

"I believe I told them a couple of horses would be available in the stables, the ones who hadn't been taken on a hunt."

James racked his brain; he didn't remember any empty stalls when they had returned from the hunt. If the ladies had gone to the village, the trek back would be impossible in the night, especially with all the rainfall. Anything could happen to two unchaperoned ladies in the village.

"Thank you for the information Martin. Inform the stable master to ready a horse for me." He stood up as the rest of the guests look at his way curiously. "I apologize, I have urgent matters to attend to."

He looked at his two friends, Headfort and Berkeley who both stood up alongside Lady Torrington. "Please continue your meal, we will be back shortly."

The four of them walked a safe distance away before Berkeley asked, "What the devil is going on? Why do you look so worried?"

"Did you not see Vivienne and Fiona missing from the table?" James asked in hushed whispers.

"Of course I did. I thought they might be ill."

"Well, they are not," James cut in. "Martin informed me the two ladies decided to take a stroll to the village."

Lady Torrington gasped and clutched her heart, James immediately grabbed her arm to steady her. "Good heavens, I thought they were merely going to take a walk along the manor grounds."

"This isn't your fault, Lady Torrington." Headfort said grimly. "It must have been Fiona's idea. She's been getting more reckless by the minute."

"What are you going to do then?"

"I've told Martin to ready my horse. I'll travel to the village and look for them there, or on the path if they were foolish enough to travel back."

His great-aunt's eyes softened in concern, "The roads are dangerous James. It has been raining for the past couple of hours."

"He won't be alone," Berkeley said. "I'll go with him."

"As will I." Headfort echoed.

James looked at his two friends, "It might be better if you stay here."

"Don't be an idiot James, my sister is out there." Headfort said harshly.

James nodded, understanding Henry's feelings. "Apologies," he turned to his two friends, "let's head out now."

Turning back to Aunt Esme he said, "You must return to dinner and act as if everything is normal. This cannot turn into a scandal. Vivienne hasn't even come out yet."

Lady Torrington nodded and he saw the steel reserve in her eyes. "Of course. I have it handled, you gentlemen find the ladies and bring them home so I can give them quite the lecture."

***

Martin held open the coat and James slipped in. "If I do not send a message or return by tonight, let the local magistrates know."

His butler nodded, "As you wish Your Grace. I hope you find Lady Vivienne and Lady Fiona."

"So do we," Headfort said, his voice unusually grim.

Martin pulled the door open, and a gust of wind sliced through James' coat. He grimaced and turned back to his friends, "let's get this done gentlemen."

They slowly made their way to the stables in the downpour. James' hat was soaked, as was his coat. He ignored the thought and trudged on. When the reach the stables he took of his coat and wrenched it, releasing the excess water. His friends did the same.

"Your Grace," his stable master appeared before them.

"Did anyone take out the horses when we were gone for the hunt?" James asked, knowing the answer but needing confirmation.

His stable master shook his head, "No Your Grace. A few of the stable boys took the remaining mares for grazing but it was only for an hour."

James and his friends shared a look.

Berkeley ran his fingers through his blond hair in agitation, "Unbelievable, they must have come here first and when they saw that there weren't any horses, they decided to walk to the village?"

"I think I can count on my hand the number of times I've been to the village without a horse. It is utterly foolish."

"Do you think they might have actually made it to the village?" Headfort asked in seriousness. "It's a possibility that they got exhausted and decided to take a break somewhere in between."

James sighed; the situation looked bleaker by the moment. "Let's hope that they made it to the village, it would be much safer than two unchaperoned ladies on the road."

Headfort nodded but he saw the worry in his friend's eyes. He could only imagine the responsibility he felt towards Fiona. Their father had died a couple of years ago from a heart condition, leaving Headfort in charge of his mother and sister. 

James still wrapping his head around the fact that Vivienne had gone to the village. He thought she might be smarter than that, but it seemed like all chits were the same, wanting to cause as much trouble as they possibly could.

The stable master interrupted his thoughts, "I've saddled the horses as Martin requested but are you sure that this is what you want to do? The roads might get worse."

"I'm sure," James said tightly as he mounted his horse. His friends followed in suit.

"Keep close to one another, we don't want anyone to get lost." James instructed.

"Aye."

They set out in the night. It was a slower pace than James was used to, but he didn't want to spook the horses. Their hooves could get stuck in the mud which would be quite the tragedy. They rode on as their coats became heavy from the rain—it did not seem like it was going to be stopping anytime soon.

James ignored the shivers that crawled up his body as his skin became colder. He willed his brain to prevent his teeth from chattering—he didn't want to appear weak in front of anyone. They rode past the hills and the lights of the village became more apparent, although they were mostly out, except a few twinkling candles in the windows serving a guide.

Something scampered out of the trees and rushed past them. The horses neighed loudly with their front hooves rising. James held on for his dear life as he tried to wrangle back his horse. When he settled the stallion down, he looked to his friends to make sure they were alright, only to see Berkeley on his ass. James grabbed his horse's reigns to prevent the animal from fleeing.

"Are you alright?" he shouted over the rain.

"I believe so," Berkeley clasped Headfort's hand who helped him back up. "However, I think I might have found something."

James slipped from his horse to view the object that Berkeley was holding.

"It's a bonnet," he said in surprise.

Berkeley's face was grim, "Although I am unable to see the colour, the material is very fine. It has to belong to either Lady Vivienne or Fiona."

Headfort kicked the ground in frustration, "What does this mean, has something happened to them?"

James placed his arm on Headfort's comfortingly, "Right now, we don't know. Let us pray for the best. The village is approaching soon, and we will be able to search for them there."

His friend nodded but the haunted look in his eyes didn't disappear. James couldn't blame them, the signs that the ladies were in danger appeared to be getting more and more apparent. Shaking off the thoughts, James handed Berkeley back his horses reigns while he mounted his own beast.

"Let's head out!" he shouted, waving his gloved hand.

His horse picked up speed and the others followed in suit. Wherever they were, James hoped the ladies were safe, the last thing he needed was such a large scandal, it would destroy Fiona and Vivienne's chances of landing good husbands.

They arrived in the village a few minutes later. The rain had mercifully slowed down a bit and the surrounding area was much more visible.

"Where should we look first?" Headfort asked.

James grimaced, "Most of the stores are closed. One of the only few things open is the tavern."

"They wouldn't," Berkeley said in shock.

James shrugged his shoulders, "At this point, I wouldn't put anything past those two."

Tying their horse to a post outside the tavern, the gentlemen entered. The rain sloshed into the place, but the floors were already so filthy that the rainwater they carried in made the place cleaner.

The tavern was quite lively at this time of hour. Farmers, villagers, wayfarers were all present with drinks on their tables and cards in their hands. There were people dancing in the corner while other crackled and sang terrible songs in the most atrocious tunes. He was well aware of the stares the three of them were getting in their fancy clothing, but he didn't bother to stop talking to any of the men.

Instead, he walked straight to the barmaid at the back. She was hanging around a customer, pouring his drink and allowing the man to get an eyeful of her bosom.

James cleared his throat once and the barmaid looked up at him in surprise as she scrutinized their wet coats. "Yer Grace, it's quite the 'uprise to see yer. Heard there was some sort of party being 'eld at yer estate. Didn't think of yer making the trek 'specially in all this rain."

James looked at her politely. "Believe me, this is the last place I want to be, but I've had some troubles."

The barmaid raised an eyebrow, "And how can I be of service to you?"

The last few words were said in a suggestive manner indicating exactly what services she would be willing to provide him.

"We are trying to look for two ladies," Berkeley cut in swiftly.

James watched as her eyes travelled to Berkeley's frame and took in his stature. James knew the ladies found him handsome and it was evident the barmaid did as well. Her eyes lit up in interest, as she focused her attention to him.

"And what ladies would these be?"

"Both about this height," James held out a hand near his shoulders. "One with blond hair and green eyes, the other with red hair and brown eyes. They should have been wearing fancy dresses that wouldn't normally be found in the village."

"Hmm, and what would I receive for this information?"

It was Headfort whose anger was no longer restrained on a tight leash. He slammed his hand down on the table. "If you don't tell me where they are, so help me God I'll wrangle your pretty little neck."

The barmaid no longer looked amused. He saw that she was minutes away from kicking them out of her establishment without providing an ounce of information. James fished into his pocket and found a pouch which he jingled and pushed towards the barmaid but didn't let go of it. "Yours, if you give us the information we ask for."

The barmaid's eyes locked in on the pouch and James could see she would start speaking any moment soon. In his experience, almost anyone could be bought for the right amount of blunt.

"There were two 'adies you came in earlier with the description you provided."

"Were?" James questioned, catching on the past tense. "Well, where are they now?"

The barmaid shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, they had a 'ouple of drinks, danced with some of the men and left about an hour ago."

"In this rain?" Berkeley asked bewildered.

The barmaid snatched the pouch from James' hand and placed it in her pocket. "I don't know, my job is to 'erve drinks, not look after pretty ladies who 'scape their castles."

James sighed as Headfort turned around and began walking after the barmaid's speech. "Thank you," he said to her. For indeed she had provided them with a clue to where the bloody hell those chits were. Forget his great-aunt, they would be getting an earful from him as well.

"This just keeps getting worse," Berkeley muttered as they walked towards the door.

"They almost would have been safer in the tavern than outside." James commented. "Let's just hope they haven't run into any trouble in the dark, there isn't much we can do to protect them."

"Don't let Headfort hear that," Berkeley warned.

James glanced in sympathy at his friend who looked more agitated by the moment. He clasped the man on the shoulder, "The village isn't that large. Don't worry, we will find them."

"I better hope so, because Fiona isn't leaving the manor until she fifty after this."

------------------

Was there possibly a little bit of foreshadowing in this chapter on the fate of the ladies? ;)