Mrs. Jellops patted her hand. “I was, my dear, just about out of my wits. Mrs. Broadbent was kind enough to send me up a strong toddy and that settled me quite nicely.”
The drawing room door swung open, and Bellamy led the footmen in with a tea tray and a second tray of cakes and biscuits. As they laid the tea things, Lord Dalton said, “Have you any idea what the man could have been after?”
Daisy shook her head. “None. Nothing obvious, anyway. It was not a usual robbery, everything of value was left behind. Some of the paneling on the walls was pried loose, as if the person looked for something that was hidden. My only thought was it might be a gambling debt a gentleman did not want found?”
“Perhaps,” Lord Dalton said, “though breaking in and tearing the house apart seems rather extreme for a debt that cannot be legally enforced. My father would hardly bother trying to collect on it.”
“May I ask, Miss Danworth,” Lord Burke said, “have you gone through all of your father’s personal papers in case there is a hint of some unsavory matter or something yet to be resolved?”
Bellamy had set the teapot down and Daisy had just raised it to pour the first cup. She quickly set it down again, her hands shaking. She had not gone through any of her father’s papers. Mr. Crackwilder had done it for her in London, and had removed to Shropshire anything of note for the duke to determine what to do with. He’d set aside a stack of personal letters to discover if Daisy was interested in keeping them and she’d refused. Mr. Crackwilder had seemed relieved and said that most of them were probably not suitable for a lady’s eyes anyway. They’d gone into the fire.
She did not wish to handle anything her father had handled, she did not wish to see his handwriting, she did not wish to smell the scent of his soap on the paper. She wished to forget he’d ever lived, not drown herself in his memories.
Lord Dalton broke the silence. “I believe the task of sorting through Lord Childress’ correspondence may prove unpalatable to Miss Danworth. Might I suggest I tackle it. Perhaps I can find some clue as to the cause of…recent events. I am supposed to rest and there can be nothing more dull than reading through papers and letters.”
Daisy nodded and willed her hands to steady so she could get on with the tea. It was a welcome suggestion. There might be relevant information in her father’s papers, she just could not bear to touch them.
“His room has been locked,” Daisy said. “Though the man who broke in has seemed to thoroughly examine the library, I suppose there must be papers in his bedchamber too.”
“I will be happy to assist,” Lord Burke said. “I do not mind reading through papers.”
Though Daisy thought Lord Dalton must be gratified by the offer, he did not seem so.
For that matter, Miss Minkerton did not seem so either. Rather sullenly, she said, “Our walking of the pier must be pushed to another day.”
Lord Burke appeared rather stricken by the lady’s comment and said, “I am sorry, I ought not upset your plans so often.”
Now it was Miss Minkerton’s turn to appear stricken. “Of course you must! Miss Danworth needs your assistance.”
Daisy was looking back and forth at everybody and wondering why they all looked so unhappy. It was only a walk, after all.
Had Lord Dalton promisedhewould walk on the pier and now Miss Minkerton was disappointed that the scheme was called off?
“You ought to go,” Lord Burke said to Miss Minkerton, “and Miss Danworth too. The air coming off the sea is beneficial and you can take Mrs. Jellops, if she agrees, and some footmen. There can be nothing dangerous in broad daylight with a proper escort.”
“I do not mind going,” Mrs. Jellops said. “I quite like the sea, as long as nobody leaps into it. Though, we’ll need Mrs. Broadbent, rather than the footmen.”
Bellamy, who had been straightening a cloth on a side table, said, “Please excuse me, perhaps it would be more suitable were I to go in Mrs. Broadbent’s place.”
Mrs. Jellops waved her hands and said, “Dear me, no. We would wish to have somebody who would pound a person to bits while they were there, not after they’ve departed.”
Bellamy flushed. He glared at Lord Dalton, bent forward, looked at his shoes, and dramatically pointed at them. Then, he stalked out of the room.
Daisy had no idea what any of it meant. For that matter, she was certain she did not understand half the significance of the past few minutes’ conversation.
For all that, she was not opposed to a walk on the pier. It would be well to leave the house, for she had no wish to be nearby while her father’s papers were examined.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Charles had got the key to Lord Childress’ bedchamber from Bellamy. His butler had seemed annoyed that Burke trailed their every step and Charles was certain the old fellow had a laundry list of complaints he wished to air. His toes had been so recently insulted by Mrs. Jellops, and then Mrs. Broadbent seemed to make a career out of offending him. Now, it seemed Mrs. Broadbent had set herself up as the heroine of the break-in, while Bellamy came off as an idiot shouting at the wind.
Though Charles was not sorry to miss whatever tirade Bellamy had in store, he was annoyed at Burke’s following as well. What was the purpose of the fellow pushing in? Did he suppose Miss Danworth would swoon over the idea that he’d put himself forward to thumb through some papers? Did he think she would throw over all of her ideas just because he’d indicated he wished to be helpful? He would go and say he did not mind reading through papers? What a bit of nonsense, absolutely everybody minded reading a pile of papers.
They had reached the top of the landing and made their way down the east wing. Charles found the door and unlocked it, pushing it open.
Childress’ room was as dark as his temperament had always been. Charles crossed the room and opened the heavy curtains to let in the light.
There was not much remarkable about the room, other than the general disorderliness of the place. Empty wine bottles sat on the mantle, the bed was barely made, even the bedstead itself was not in order. At the head of it, one of the bedposts was missing, the other an odd bit of metalwork depicting a man atop an eagle. There was a rumpled shirt on the floor, as if the lord’s valet could not be bothered to attend to it, and the grate had not been swept out. Charles supposed the maids he’d hired had taken one look at the room, closed the door, and pretended they’d never seen it at all. It appeared that on Childress’ last visit, he’d decided to leave suddenly, without giving his servants the time to do things properly.
