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She intended to get it.
Glancing furtively about the empty hallway, Ariana acted quickly, before Baxter could emerge from the morning room. Hurrying to the front door, she slipped outside and spoke rapidly to her waiting carriage driver.
“My stay here will be far longer than I originally intended,” she said in a terse whisper. “Go back to Broddington. I’ll send for you when I’m ready to return.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” the driver replied.
Ariana stayed him with her hand. “Wait until I’ve reentered the house and closed the door. Then, count to ten. At that point, you may leave.”
The driver looked flabbergasted. “Pardon me?”
“Please … just do as I say!”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Brows knit in bewilderment, the driver nodded.
“Thank you.” Ariana flashed him a swift, grateful smile. Wordlessly, she hastened back into Winsham, praying that Baxter hadn’t followed her out immediately.
The hallway was deserted.
With a sigh of relief; Ariana closed the door—loudly—behind her. Then, without pause, she sped into the sitting room, ducking down behind the massive sofa.
She had just tucked her skirts tightly around her when she heard the unmistakable sound of horses’ hooves. Her carriage was departing, precisely as she intended.
An instant later Baxter emerged, making his way to the front door and peering out. Evidently relieved by what he saw, he turned on his heel and strode off.
Thank goodness, Ariana told herself silently. Now he’ll go back to bed and I can begin my search.
Her breath caught in her throat when, instead of mounting the stairs to return to his room, Baxter stalked past the sitting room and disappeared into the rear of the house.
Where is he going? Ariana wondered. It’s barely dawn.
Frowning, she reevaluated her strategy. She had planned to search Baxter’s study first, then make her way through the lower level of Winsham while Baxter was asleep and before Coolidge arose to begin his chores. But obviously that was not to be. So she’d just reverse the order she’d intended, beginning with the second level and eventually exploring the first.
When the silence extended into long minutes, Ariana took her chance. Scooting out from behind the sofa, she peeked into the hall, then sprinted across to the stairway and hastily ascended, praying all the while that the upper level was unoccupied.
Again, the fates were with her.
She slipped into Baxter’s room, closing the door carefully behind her. Without hesitating, she made her way to his desk.
Over the next half-hour, Ariana cautiously searched every square inch of her brother’s quarters. She had no idea exactly what she was looking for a receipt, a note, a name. What she discovered was nothing.
Wearily, she sagged against the wall. Apparently Baxter kept none of his records in his room. She’d have to find a way to get into his study.
Heart pounding, Ariana inched her way downstairs, pausing after each step to listen. Where was Baxter? Hopefully not in his study.
Fortunately, the study door was ajar, the room vacant.
It took Ariana twenty nerve-wracking minutes to thoroughly scan the desk drawers. Again, nothing.
Surely evidence had to exist somewhere.
Impatience making her bold, Ariana crept down the hall, curious now as to where her brother had gone. Had her confrontation unnerved him? If so, had he retreated to wherever his papers were kept?
She had to find out.
Inching her way, she glanced into each of Winsham’s rooms, hoping for a clue as to Baxter’s whereabouts. He appeared to have vanished into thin air.
Ariana stopped when she reached the servants’ quarters. Surely he wasn’t with Coolidge!
