Page 45 of Hold Me Fast
But when he joined them at the inn fifteen minutes later, he’d seen no trace of Marco, Guy, or anyone associated with them.
*
They had beenplanning to split up on the second day—Bran and Jowan to meet with Mrs. Mayhew and Tamsyn and Evangeline to shop for fabrics. Jowan decided they should keep together. “If there’s a possibility that Coombe is about and knows Tammie is here, I do not want you two ladies to be facing him on your own.”
Evangeline was inclined to scoff, but Tamsyn shuddered and agreed. “He is unpredictable, Evangeline, and no one has ever said ‘no’ to him and made it stick. He thinks he is above the law… or if not that, precisely, that the law is only relevant to other people.”
Bran agreed they should stick together, and Evangeline declared herself outvoted, so they all arrived at the address Mrs. Mayhew had given them. The house showed clear signs of the proposed move—light shapes on the darker walls that indicated where paintings had recently been removed, an empty tea chest in the parlor to which the maid showed them, and a flour bag alongside filled with wood shavings ready to protect whatever fragile objects were to be stowed in the chest.
The lady, when she arrived, proved to be a vigorous little woman in her middle years. She was removing a voluminous apron as she entered the room. “Sir Jowan Trethewey?” she asked, addressing her question to the space between Jowan and Bran.
“I am Trethewey,” Jowan told her. “And I assume you are Mrs. Mayhew. May I make known to you Miss Roskilly and Mrs. Parkerdale? Also, my brother and steward, Branoc Hughes. Bran and I escorted the ladies to Plymouth for shopping. I hope you do not mind us all descending on you like this. We have a number of errands today and thought it better to stay together.”
Mrs. Mayhew nodded politely to the others. “You will be wanting the papers regarding the work my cousin handled for your father,” she said to Jowan. “I have them here.”
She indicated a stack tied with string, sitting on a table in the window embrasure. “If you do not mind, I would like you to check them to make sure that they are as you expect. My cousin’s files were in disarray when they reached me. He had apparently been ill for some time, and his filing had suffered. Also, whoever packed up his files took no care regarding what went where. While I have done my best to sort everything in order, there may still be elements missing. I have two boxes of papers for which I have not been able to discover logical places.”
Jowan thanked her, and he and Bran took a seat at the table and began looking through what was there. Jowan was not sure he’d be able to recognize whether something was missing, since he did not know what to expect, but all that he and Bran could do was their best.
As he and Bran went through the papers, he heard Mrs. Mayhew offer Tamsyn and Evangeline refreshments, and lead them from the room. A short while later, a maid brought a cup of tea and a slice of lardy cake, and put them by his elbow, and he glanced up to see that Bran had been given the same.
He gave the maid a smile and his thanks and turned back to what he was reading. It was soon clear that the relationship between Trantor and Sir Carlyon lasted for more than a decade before the two men died within a couple of months of one another.
Sir Carlyon had started with a few small investments in cargoes and had reinvested his earnings and principal. Jowan began sorting the pile by investment and date. Bran pulled out a notepad and a graphite pencil and began calculating the investments and returns.
“We have the information we need to assert ownership of each stock,” Jowan concluded after a while. “I’d venture to suggest some correspondence might be filed elsewhere or might have gone missing altogether.”
“If we can recover the sums owed, you’ll be a rich man,” Bran responded, turning the pad around to show Jowan the total he had underlined and then circled.
“Three thousand, five hundred, and twenty-one pounds,” Jowan read, awed.
“Don’t forget the three shillings and nine pence,” Bran commented. “Mind you, I don’t swear to any of those. If the money has been reinvested, or even just put in a bank on deposit, there could be more. And, of course, some or all of it might have disappeared since the baronet lost track of it.”
It might have been true, but Wakefield had reported that Trantor had a reputation as a trustworthy solicitor, at least until he fell ill. So, there was at least a chance that some or all the money was waiting for them somewhere. Waiting for the Trethewey estate, which meant Jowan. But he would at least be able to give his steward an increase in salary.
“Three thousand, five hundred pounds,” he repeated slowly. Trethewey 1 and 2 combined gave him one hundred and fifty pounds a year. Wheal St Tetha was expected to do better, but only after it ate money for the first year or two. All the tenancies on the estate together didn’t gross more than three hundred pounds, and he had to take repairs out of that.
The first step would be to track down what had happened to the stocks and shares. “How do you and Evangeline feel about taking a honeymoon in London?” he asked Bran.
*
The ladies hadspent the hour helping Mrs. Mayhew. She was in a difficult situation. The house that she had shared with her husband had been left to her husband’s son by an earlier marriage. The son was an officer with the East India Company and had been happy for his stepmother to remain in the property while he was in the Far East, but he had resigned his commission and was on his way home.
“It is natural for Nigel to want the house for his wife and children,” Mrs. Mayhew explained. “It is certainly not large enough for an unwanted dependent. Not that Mr. Mayhew left me penniless. My widow’s portion will afford me an adequate income, particularly if I can find an inexpensive cottage to rent. I have been saving, too, so all shall be well, I am certain.”
The worry in her eyes told another story, and when Evangeline asked when she had to be out of the house, Mrs. Mayhew admitted that it could be as soon as two weeks, depending on when her stepson’s ship docked. “If I have not found a place to stay, I will put my boxes into storage and rent a room somewhere.”
An idea popped into Tammie’s mind, but it would be rash to say anything. After all, she did not know the lady. Certainly not well enough to propose living together. On the other hand, Mrs. Mayhew seemed pleasant enough. She had a clean bright aura in which greens and pinks predominated, which meant she was probably nurturing and kind. She had shown herself to be honest in contacting Jowan about her cousin’s files. She had nice manners and her servants appeared to treat her with respect and affection.
Tammie was going to need a respectable woman to live with her in her mother’s cottage. A respectable lady, furthermore. A companion, not a servant. She had asked in the village. No one could think of someone suitable who wanted the work.
Perhaps asking Mrs. Mayhew was not so outrageous after all.
By the time Jowan and Bran were finished, the ladies had packed two tea chests with china, carefully wrapping each item in paper and nesting it in wood shavings. And Tammie had made up her mind to discuss her idea with her friends.
They may have good reasons why having Mrs. Mayhew as her companion would not be appropriate. Or they might agree with her own assessment. Either way, she now had friends she could trust, and talking to them would help her make up her own mind.
Accordingly, when they had said their farewells to the lady and were waiting for a hackney, she introduced the topic.
