by Joan Smith
“I’ll take care of Flame for you, Miss Lowden,” the stableboy offered.
“Would you get her some water, please?”
As soon as the boy left, she ran the length of the stable, peering into corners for the wagon. There was no sign of it, and, of course, no piles of gold. How would it be packaged—in bags, in boxes? Perhaps the gold was in the hayloft? But the wagon certainly wasn’t. It could be buried under any haystack on the estate, or even disassembled by now. The stableboy returned with the water, and Esther left the stable. As she went toward the Abbey, she noticed two of Joshua’s laborers were tending a bonfire.
This wasn’t unusual. There was always plenty of debris to be gotten rid of on a large estate, and what could be burned was. A wooden wagon, however, could also be disposed of in this manner without leaving a trace but the hardware. She sauntered over to the fire and peered into the flames. There was a large mound of cinders and ash below the fire. It must have been burning for hours.
On top, the men were piling on house refuse: old journals and magazines, a dilapidated kitchen chair, and bags that once contained flour and sugar. The stench in the air suggested that food remains were below the dry fire fodder. And if the ashes of a government wagon were below it all, she had no way of knowing, but it seemed significant that Joshua was having the monthly bonfire at this precise time.
It was always a pleasure to enter the Abbey. Joshua’s household was well run. On a fine morning in spring sunlight struggled through the vine-tangled windows of a small saloon, glinting off brass lamps and old carved furnishings. On the walls Dutch paintings glowed like jewels. Why Joshua chose to hide such lovely paintings in a small saloon was a mystery to Esther. The Vermeers were small but exquisitely done, a companion set of women working in the kitchen. Lady Brown was already established behind a desk with a list and a pile of white cards before her.
She lifted her head and said, “Joshua is waiting for you in the ballroom, Esther. He wants your suggestions for decoration.” A hopeful smile lifted her lips. “A ruse to get you to himself,” she said archly.
And an excuse for me to poke through a few more saloons, Esther silently added. She went into the hall, and when she found it empty, she drifted into his office, silently closing the door behind her. A massive oak desk occupied the center of the far wall. She hastened to it and looked through the papers on top. She glanced at bills for farm supplies and receipts from buyers of his produce. Nothing suspicious here. She slid open the top drawer and found herself staring at an offer to purchase Pilchener’s estate at a price of ten thousand pounds. The sum was fresh in her mind, the exact amount stolen in the gold shipment. She silently closed the drawer and went to the ballroom, warning herself to hide her knowledge.
The man standing in the middle of the room gazing all around him with an air of quiet satisfaction looked like any prosperous country squire. His jacket, though well cut, did not aspire to city heights of fashion. His waistcoat was a discreet stripe, and the topboots he wore had no foppish white bands. It wasn’t a desire to cut a dash in society that would lure Joshua into robbery, but would his lust for land do it?
“There you are.” He smiled and paced forward to meet her. “I have just been imagining this room full of masked revelers. In May, I think simple baskets of flowers will give a festive touch. I’m glad you nagged me into having this ball, Esther.”
But the ball had been arranged before he spoke to her, or what excuse did Mr. Meecham have for that domino and mask in his room? “Have you set on a date?”
“Yes, we’re rushing it forward—next Friday night. That gives us ten days.”
“Your invitations will hardly have time to be received and answered. Or will they be mostly local guests?”
“Not at all. I’m inviting some members of London society for the weekend,” he said, and named half a dozen of the ton.
“I hope you warn them not to bring their jewels.”
“Ladies won’t appear in public without their gewgaws, but I am suggesting they form a caravan and all come together, with armed footmen. I don’t expect they’ll wait till dark to make the trek, either. I am suggesting they come in midafternoon. They’ll stay the weekend and return in daylight on Monday. I hope you and your aunt will come over even earlier and play joint-hostesses for me.”
“We’d be delighted to. You have given a deal of thought to your guests’ safety.” Of course Captain Johnnie would hardly rob his own guests, so that proved nothing.
“What do you think of my idea for floral decorations?”
“Not original, sir, but as you are rushing the thing forward as though it were a wedding of necessity, you don’t leave me much time for improvement.”
Joshua glanced down at her with a smile in his dark eyes. “Next year, you can have it all your own way. Start thinking now, and devise any fantasy that suits you. You could do it in Persian tents à la Byron, or chinoiserie, in the royal fashion of Prinny—or in the ‘horrid’ style of Otranto’s castle, with ghosts lurking in dark corners.”
“Money is no object, I see,” she said, and looked for his reaction.
“Sheets for ghosts don’t cost much.”
“It wasn’t the Otranto theme that appealed to me, Josh. I rather like your suggestion of Persian tents.”
“I daresay a few yards of muslin won’t break me.”
“More than a few yards. Why, at this rate, you won’t be able to afford Pilchener’s place,” she said offhandedly.
Josh just smiled and said not a word about already having made an offer on it. “If there is anyone you would like to invite to my ball, just add your names to the list.”
The name that occurred to her was Mr. Fletcher, but she had lost her enthusiasm for him. “I would like to ask Lady Gloria. She would enjoy it.”
He peered playfully down at her. “No one else?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You do that. Ask anyone you like; you have carte blanche. No need to check with me. I’m sure your discretion may be counted on not to lumber me with undesirables.”
It almost seemed he was urging her to ask Fletcher, but she refused to recognize the hint. “If Officer Clifford is still about, it might be a good idea to have him here. He might pass for a gentleman in a domino if he keeps his mouth shut, and he can help you guard all the valuables that will be in the house.”
“A good idea. I’ll speak to him. Your aunt tells me you rode over this morning. I hope you had an escort.”
“I accompanied her carriage.”
“That’s a slow, dragging ride. I’ll send one of my men home with you, to allow you a good gallop.”
Esther felt a spurt of annoyance that soon turned to suspicion. She had planned to check out his land and couldn’t do it if Joshua’s man accompanied her. Was that why he suggested it? “I'm not in the mood for a gallop today. I’ll accompany Auntie’s carriage home,” she said.
He nodded in satisfaction. “I’ve had the servants haul baskets and vases into the morning parlor to save your going to the attics. Shall we have a look at them?”
“You must have other things to do, Josh. Just leave me to it.”
He pulled out his watch. It was an old turnip timepiece inherited from his father. Joshua really did not indulge himself in toys. “I do want to speak to my banker this morning. I’ve notified the gardener you’ll be speaking to him. I’ll ask the servants to bring you and Lady Brown coffee in an hour.”
“Thank you.”
He left in very good spirits. At the doorway he turned and waved, with a musing smile on his usually dour face. He thought he had conned her, she assumed, and wondered why he had gone to the trouble of having baskets and vases brought down from the attics. Was it to keep her out of them? As soon as the door closed behind him, she went into the hall and up the front stairs. Esther was familiar with the Abbey and went directly to the attic door and up the staircase.
The air was close in the silent attics under the eaves. There were no
lamps, but the windows gave plenty of light. She looked at the sprawling space and knew it would take a week to find anything Joshua had hidden there. There was no dust on the floors to leave guiding footsteps. Even his attics were kept clean.
She wandered from room to room, opening trunks and peering into drawers of discarded chests, but found only ancient clothing and yellowing linen and bundled parcels of letters, with fading ink in spidery script. She looked around, wondering if there might be something to use for the ball, and found a rather pretty trellis arch that would make a suitable entrance to the ballroom with flowers and vines in the latticework.
She returned below and asked a servant to bring it to the ballroom, and went to the conservatory to speak to the gardener. They went into the garden to discuss what would be in bloom in ten days’ time and what plants should be bought and hired. The gardens were lovely, stretching for hundreds of yards. Roses—red, pink, yellow, and white—nodded in the sun, with the blue sky arched above. Such a beautiful day, such a beautiful place—she resented having to think of catching a thief.
In an hour she joined her aunt for coffee and suggested they take the cards and list back to the inn for writing up. “I shan’t be returning with you after all,” she said, and felt badly about lying to her aunt. “Joshua offered me an escort home,” she added. That at least was true; she didn’t say she had refused the offer.
“So thoughtful. One cannot help but thinking, when she is at this lovely abbey, how fine it would be to be mistress of the place.”
The same thought had occurred to Esther. “Yes,” she said, rather wistfully. “It does seem—spacious—after the dower house, does it not?” And the grounds, at least, would be even more spacious after Josh bought Pilchener’s property.
Esther went to the stable and tarried till her aunt’s carriage had left. Then she mounted Flame. The stableboy looked a question when she headed out alone. “Shall I go with you, Miss Lowden?” he asked.
“I’ll catch up to the carriage,” she said, and trotted Flame out toward the main road. But when she was beyond view of the house, she detoured into the park and thence through the fields. Men were cutting the first hay crop, so she couldn’t check the haystacks for a concealed wagon, but she cantered through the spinney and woods, peering for signs of a wagon’s passing. It would have left a trail through the undergrowth off the main path. She saw no such trail.
It was peaceful in the woods, with the tall trees providing shade and scenting the air with resin. Wildflowers bloomed between the trees, carpeting the forest floor with patches of white and yellow and blue. Overhead, disturbed birds chirped their displeasure with her presence.
It was another fruitless effort—the estate was just too big for one person to search—and she went home. Lady Brown had arrived before her, unaware that she had made the trip alone. Lady Gloria was sipping tea in the morning parlor and beckoned Esther in.
“Have you heard?” she asked, her little gray head bobbing like a bird’s, as she pulled her shawl around her narrow shoulders. “I’ve just been reading in the paper that they’ve found the wagon that held the gold. It was empty, of course.”
Esther’s heart was clenched like a fist. “Where?” she demanded.
“In the Thames River, not too far from London. It was driven into the river, but a boater came aground against it and saw the printing on the side. It was a government wagon, you know. The gold is in London by now. There is no hope of ever recovering it. They found one of the nags, too.”
Esther felt her heart ease back to normal. “In London?” she asked.
“Yes. Johnnie has got away with another fortune. The man must be rich as Croesus. What a high life-style he must enjoy. A fine home and servants, and anything he likes to eat and drink. Quite like the old days at the castle. Oh, and speaking of food, Esther, you might just mention to your manager about breakfast. I found my eggs just a teensy bit hard this morning. I don’t know how many times I have told them two minutes, but they will keep bringing them as hard as a rock, and an overcooked egg tastes like bile.”
“I’ll tell Buck right now,” she said, and used it as an excuse to get away.
She went to Buck’s office and tapped at the door. “Esther, come in. I have been thinking about this pastry business, and really we must hire a pastry chef.”
“Later, Buck. Did you know your cousin has put an offer on Pilchener’s place? For ten thousand pounds,” she said, and directed a meaningful look at him.
“The devil, you say! Where is he getting the blunt?”
“That’s a good question. Oh, incidentally, while Lady Gloria was complaining about her hard eggs just now, she told me they have found the wagon that held the gold in the latest robbery. It was in the Thames. Ten thousand was taken, you remember?”
“I certainly do. Couldn’t I use ten thousand! I have had another set-to with Papa. He stopped in for a minute to harangue me. Called me an inn maid, by the living jingo. I told him I had no thought of giving up my career. There will be nothing for me from Papa, I fear.”
“He’ll come around in time, Buck. Pilchener’s place costs ten thousand,” she said, to make her meaning perfectly clear.
“Don’t narrow your eyes at me like that, Esther. Josh didn’t steal it. I think I know my own cousin.”
“I thought I knew him, too, but lately he seems—different.”
“He seems as toplofty as ever to me. Your aunt was just telling me about his masquerade party. That is a little unlike him to be spending his money on frivolity. I daresay he has his eye on some London lady and is out to impress her.”
“London lady? What do you mean?” she demanded.
“It stands to reason he must have in mind nabbing an heiress. Why else would he feel free to spend ten thousand pounds? The Chalmers chit, likely. She has a dot of twenty-five, I’ve heard him say.”
Esther scowled and ran to check the invitation list for Miss Chalmers. Her mood was not improved upon finding Lord and Lady Chalmers and their daughter, Lady Margaret, at the top of the list. And he had said he was having this ball for her. She knew all along that wasn’t the reason, but to have it confirmed stung like a nettle. Let him write his own invitations, the pest.
Chapter Eleven
Esther did write one of the invitations to Joshua’s ball. It was addressed to Mr. Beau Fletcher and Miss Fletcher. Beau arrived back at the Lowden Arms that same afternoon, in time for dinner. Though she was still angry with him, and with the whole world, Esther decided he would make a good flirt to annoy Joshua, and wrote up the invitation before dinner. She was rather curious to meet Miss Fletcher, as Beau spoke often of her, always in the highest terms.
What he had never mentioned, and what came as a great disappointment, was that Cathy was invalidish. Beau had to carry her into the inn, swaddled in blankets. It was Lady Gloria Devere who told Esther about it at dinner that evening.
“She was overcome with heat, poor thing,” Lady Gloria explained, “and it was only sixty-three degrees. I find the air quite chill. In fact, my room is freezing at night.”
“You must ask the servants to lay a fire,” Esther said.
“I have asked your manager a dozen times to have the grate cleaned. One hardly knows which is worse, the cold or the smoke.”
“I’ll speak to him myself,” Esther said, and reverted to the more interesting subject. “What did Miss Fletcher look like, Lady Gloria? Is she pretty?”
“Even her face was covered. I hinted for an introduction as Mr. Fletcher carried her into the lobby, but he was rather brusque, I fear. Not exactly rude, you know, but curt. He said he had to get her to bed immediately. Perhaps it was the crowds in the lobby that deterred him. That Mr. Meecham was there, speaking to your manager and Officer Clifford, and some new patrons were just entering. They would all have crowded around, I daresay. He is a very considerate brother,” she added, “unlike some.”
Lady Brown recognized a hint in this that Lady Gloria’s own brother was being selfish
again, and the conversation turned to that well-worn topic. It seemed there were strings attached to Lady Gloria’s invitation to return to the family mansion. The strand on which Lady Gloria expatiated for the remainder of dinner had to do with reroofing that portion of the house where her apartments were located. “He must take me for a naive girl,” she snorted. “Lead roofing costs a fortune.”
Esther thought Cathy might be sufficiently recovered to come downstairs for dinner, but she was disappointed. Her brother ate with her in her room, but he met Esther later in the hall as she was going upstairs.
“Esther, nice to see you again. Did anything exciting happen during my absence?”
She examined him coolly. “The only exciting thing that has happened today is your sister’s arrival. I hear she is indisposed. I hope it is not serious?”
“Cathy always suffers in a carriage. The doctor calls it motion sickness. I hope she will be better soon.”
“I trust she is resting comfortably?” He nodded, and Esther continued, “When may we meet her?”
“Very soon. If she is not able to leave her room tomorrow, I’m sure she would be happy to receive you there. I shall have to spend a good deal of my time with her,” he added. His smile suggested his presence would be the real treat.
To show her new state of pique, Esther said. “Just let me know when you want a respite, and I shall be happy to replace you.”
Beau shuffled his feet, peered at her from the side of his eyes, and eventually said, “I expect Officer Clifford has been telling tales on me.”
“Telling tales suggests a misrepresentation of the facts, Mr. Fletcher. If he is slandering you, I suggest you speak to him.”
“No, what he said is true. I was at the Black Knight that evening, with—well, you know who I was with,” he mumbled sheepishly.
“Whom you or any of my clients associate with away from my inn is no concern of mine, just so you don’t bring your women here.”
