Richard allowed a full quarter hour to elapse before he rang the bell. He rang again a couple of minutes after that, impatiently, but it was still longer before the door opened to reveal Tallant, the undervalet. It was a position exclusive to Richard’s household. Cyprian had so many other duties to perform that he needed an assistant for the routine tasks.
Morning tea was not a routine task, and if this was Cyprian’s idea of a statement…
“Where is Cyprian?” Richard demanded.
“I don’t know, my lord. Mr. Cyprian is not in the house.” Tallant placed the cup of tea carefully by Richard’s bedside.
“What do you mean, not in the house? Where the devil is he?”
“I don’t know, my lord. He left last night, and it is not clear if he returned.”
“What? Where has he gone?”
“I don’t—”
“Stop saying you don’t know, and find out!” Cyprian would have had an answer, and if he didn’t, he’d have been looking for one already, instead of repeating witless responses.
“Yes, my lord.” Tallant fled in a controlled way.
Richard fumed until the undervalet returned. His manner did not seem optimistic.
“Ah, my lord…” Tallant met Richard’s eye, quailed visibly, and spoke. “Mr. Cyprian’s room is in some disorder, my lord. Mr. Schooler knocked on his door earlier and ventured to look in case he was unwell. Mr. Schooler believes he has left the house.”
“Obviously he has left the house if he is not present. Get Schooler. No, wait. Get my clothes.” Richard had to be dressed. He could not do this in his nightshirt.
Tallant was no substitute for Cyprian, but he did his best. Richard hurried him through the dressing and sent him off to fetch Schooler.
Cyprian could not have packed and left. No matter the previous night’s appalling episode, he would not have gone. That was absurd.
Schooler knocked and entered, stately as ever, and one look at his grave expression gleaming with suppressed enjoyment made Richard’s heart plummet. Clearly the man knew something. “Where’s Cyprian?”
“It seems Mr. Cyprian was witnessed by several staff leaving last night in the company of Mr. Mason, my lord. Mr. Mason carried a large bag. This morning, I was concerned that Mr. Cyprian had not risen as usual. I ventured to knock on his door and discovered that his room was in disarray and his bed had not been slept in.”
“When was this?”
“An hour ago, my lord.”
An hour. Richard could have been looking for a full hour. “Fetch Mason,” he said through his teeth, holding back You pompous imbecile. “Have him wait for me in the book room if he is not already there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Richard hurried downstairs to the book room. Mason was not there, a fact that caused Richard disproportionate irritation, which flamed to anger when Schooler finally appeared alone.
“Well?” Richard demanded.
“My lord, I beg your pardon, but it seems Mr. Mason has left the house with Mr. Cyprian’s remaining possessions.”
“What?”
“His property has been removed since I inspected his room, my lord, and it appears Mr. Mason requested that one of the footmen help him with a trunk not twenty minutes ago. I conclude—”
“Where did he go?”
“James could not inform me, my lord. Mr. Mason left with the trunk on a hand cart and did not vouchsafe his destination.”
“When he returns, I shall see him at once,” Richard ordered, jaw aching from maintaining control. “Get me breakfast; get me coffee; and if you find out what the devil is going on, I wish to be informed immediately.”
Breakfast came. Mason did not. Richard scrawled a furious note to Dominic at the Board of Taxes. He’d given Dominic his word that Mason would have shelter in his house for as long as was needed, but that didn’t mean the fellow could do as he pleased and particularly not if it meant helping Cyprian—
Help him do what? Escape?
A good hour passed before Mason came in with a cursory knock. “Your lordship.”
“Where is Cyprian?” Richard demanded.
“Couldn’t say.”
“Don’t give me that,” Richard snarled. “You left the house with him last night and cleared his room of his possessions this morning.”
“Aye, I did that,” Mason agreed. “He asked me to. His possessions, he can do as he pleases with ’em.”
“Then where is he?”
Mason shoved his hands into his pockets, a disrespectful gesture that made Richard’s temper leap. “Couldn’t say.”
“Where did he go?”
“Ah, well, I could tell you that,” Mason said. “But it wouldn’t do you much use, because he’s not there now. Went off as soon as he got his trunk.”