Laying it open upon the desk, Grayson saw, with some surprise, that the most recent entry was payment for one pig, already butchered.Livestock normally was a part of an estate this size, if not held by the property owner, then raised by the tenant farmers and easily traded for a portion of the rent owed.
Running a finger up the page, Grayson skimmed over meticulous records of small purchases, mostly of food, until he reached an entry for income.Then he stopped and swore under his breath.
Written in the same delicate hand was the sale of one black basaltware urn by Wedgwood for little more than pocket change.Glancing quickly through the columns, Grayson cursed loudly at the loss of several busts, one by Bernini, and a portrait by Lely.All had been let go for far less than their worth.And all to one man.
Squire Wortley.
“What is it, my lord?”
Grayson looked up to find Badcock studying him with some concern.“I have discovered where the missing items are, and it’s worse than I thought.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, some very valuable things were sold for absurdly low amounts to the local squire,” Grayson said.
“Perhaps he is their only source of funds, my lord.There cannot be many other residents of the area who could afford to buy the earl’s possessions.”
Yes, Grayson thought, unless the girls had a contact in London, where they could get higher prices for their goods, the squire probably was their only hope.Still, he did not have to cheat them so baldly.There was a difference between getting a bargain and fleecing innocent women, between transacting business and stealing from ladies who were above the lowly squire’s station.
As the embodiment of local authority, Wortley should have been watching out for Lucy and Kate, instead of… Suddenly, Grayson wondered if the man had put pressure on the Courtlands to obtain their treasures.
“My lord?”
Grayson glanced up, startled by the look on Badcock’s normally expressionless face.
“The, ah, accounts, my lord.”
Gazing downward, Grayson saw with surprise that he had crumpled a page of the book in his fist.Slowly, he released his grip and pressed the paper flat once more.Wherever Kate was concerned, he reacted with gut instincts that had little to do with civilized behavior.It was becoming rather alarming.
Releasing a harsh breath, Grayson thumbed through the rest of the volume, but he could find no references to income, other than that acquired from Wortley.
As far as he could tell, the earl’s daughters were not receiving an allowance of any kind from their guardian.Nor were they collecting any rents from the vast estate’s tenant farmers.Indeed, they appeared to be paying for all their food, what precious little there was of it.
Grayson found himself growing angry again and made a deliberate effort to remain calm.The thought of Kate struggling, not only with the drudgery of daily cooking and cleaning, but with the juggling of nearly nonexistent funds, as well, filled him with violent impulses.Mentally, he added Squire Wortley to his list of matters to attend to, right after the unmasking of his imposter and his confrontation with Uncle Jasper.
It appeared that he would be busy with Courtland business for some time to come, Grayson thought, smiling grimly.But the notion invoked other images, of unfinished dealings with Kate that had nothing to do with money, relatives, or neighbors.Only the two of them.Alone.Naked.
His first pleasant musings of the day were interrupted by a loud knocking at the study door that heralded the return of Tom and Meg.The cook was positively beaming at the success of her covert mission, and even the coachman seemed in good spirits as Grayson urged them to sit.
Glancing around the room, he had to suppress his amusement at the sight of the odd group.Never before had he engaged a coachman, a cook, and a valet for an investigation, but he had learned to be flexible when it came to resources.And he knew he could trust all of them, with the possible exception of Tom.
Right now, the old fellow appeared honest enough, as he prepared to report what he had learned in Chisterton.“Well, we’ve good news and bad, my lord,” he said.“There’s been some activity everywhere this spring, at the manor, the vicarage, and the squire’s house.People popping in and out as if they haven’t homes of their own, from the sounds of it.”
Grayson was not surprised.“I’ll admit that seems discouraging, but if we discover the identities of the guests and the length of their visits, I’m sure we could narrow down our list of suspects,” he said.
The coachman looked skeptical, but nodded.“As for the vicar’s boys, one is too fat and one too fair.That leaves Ezra, the eldest, and only one other local who fits Lucy’s description, the squire’s nephew, Archibold Rutledge.”
Grayson put a finger to his lip and rubbed it absently.“Very good.You have done well.”He paused, his gaze flicking to each of them, in turn.“I do not need to tell you that we must keep our activities quiet for the time being.I do not wish Lucy to get her hopes up,” he explained, giving Tom a particularly sharp look of warning.
To Grayson’s surprise, the coachman nodded, without argument, and hurried after Meg to unload her supplies.
When the door shut behind them, Badcock shook his head.“The culprit could be anyone, long come and gone, my lord.”
“Perhaps,” Grayson said.“But I have found it best not to overlook the obvious.”
“What next, then?”Badcock asked.
“Next, we shall set a trap,” Grayson said, his lips curling in satisfaction.“And see what we catch.”
