“Oh, no. By the look on your face, all the jewelry is gone too?” Grace asked.
“I’m afraid so. Papa threw all of Mama’s dresses on the floor and took everything from the small box on her vanity.”
“I’m so sorry,” Grace said, hugging Audrey. “I know you loved her pearls.”
“Thank you, Grace. We will just have to make do however we can.”
The rest of the day and the next one passed without their father coming home, which was unusual these days.
“Where do you think Papa’s gone?” Mia asked when they were all sitting in the parlor on the third day of the baron’s absence.
Audrey looked up from her book. “I don’t know. It’s not like him to be gone this long.”
“What if—”
A knock on the door interrupted any furtherconversation.
“I wonder who’s come calling?” Audrey said.
Beckwith opened the parlor door and announced the local magistrate. “Mr. Wright.”
All three girls immediately stood. Why was the magistrate at their door?
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m looking for Miss Parker,” Mr. Wright said, striding into the room with an air of authority around him.
Audrey stepped forward. “I’m Miss Parker. May I ask why you’re here? My father, Lord Fletcher, is not at home presently.”
The magistrate bowed his head. “I know, miss. That’s why I’m here. There’s been an unfortunate incident.”
A shiver of dread raced up Audrey’s spine. “An incident? What kind of incident?”
“It appears Lord Fletcher has been the victim of a robbery gone wrong.”
“Victim? What are you saying?”
“I’m sorry to inform you, Miss Parker, that your father is dead.”
Chapter5
New York City
James could hardly believe theincrease in circulation in the four weeks since the paper started including women’s articles in the Friday edition. If sales kept up at this pace, they’d have to invest in another printing press to satisfy demand for the paper. That made him so happy. Who would have guessed that, from his humble upbringing, he could become co-owner of a thriving newspaper?
He only wished his parents were alive to see the success he’d achieved. Eight years ago, when he was eight and ten and had worked for Henry for a year, a virulent strain of pneumonia had swept through their apartment building. Several tenants had died, including both his parents, leaving him totally alone for the first time in his young life.
Henry once again stepped up to offer whatever he needed. The man was generous to a fault and had become a de facto father figure to Jacob.
In the years he’d worked for Henry in the shipping business, Jacob had never lost his desire to be a journalist. When he approached Henry a few years later about the newspaper idea, the older man had surprised him by offering the start-up funds for a forty-nine percent share of the business. Knowing Henry had a good head for business, Jacob had readily agreed, and he’d never regretted his decision.
Now they were co-owners of a thriving newspaper, and Jacob felt on top of the world. At five and twenty, he’d not only achieved his dream of becoming a journalist, but he was making a tidy fortune with the paper as well from his share of dividends in Henry’s shipping business.
Right on time, Henry walked into his office. “Good morning, Jacob. A fine morning we’re having now that the snow has stopped, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jacob stood and extended his hand to his partner. “We are indeed. May I offer you some coffee?”
Henry nodded, taking Jacob’s hand in a firm handshake. “Yes. I have a little time this morning.”
Jacob stuck his head out of the office and called to the young man at the front desk. “Stephen, please bring in some coffee.”
