Page 87 of The Wise Daughter
“Thank you.” She didn’t mind that the house was not well stocked. It meant she and her father would have to find somewhere else to go soon.
One of the groomsmen was kind enough to light a fire, but otherwise, there wasn’t much else to do. Soon, Nora was listening to the carriage pull away.
Her father settled into a large armchair and heaved a great sigh. “If the duke had offered me this place, I’m sure I should never have offered it up in a gamble. It was wrong, either way, I know, but the other wretched place was much easier to surrender.” He closed his eyes, and soon, his breathing slowed, followed by light snoring.
Nora rubbed her arms, feeling very alone, and looked around.
The manor wasn’t nearly as grand as the castle, but it was respectable and adequately furnished. It compared well to their old home in West Riding, but Nora found she missed the castle’s portraits and twisted corridors that always promised her an interesting discovery.
Making herself useful, Nora went in search of the kitchen and larder to see what was at their disposal. The footmen were right. Other than a few baskets they had brought, the manor was empty of food, but she did find several candles. Greedy for light, she lit every last one.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, for so readily indulging in your candles,” she sighed, “but I need the light now more than ever.”
After setting them throughout the rooms she had thus far visited, Nora took another candle and set off to explore the empty rooms upstairs. Holding the light aloft, she was compelled to see it all, unsure what difference it would make, but she had to be thorough. Room after room, everything looked in order.Strange.If Raven Manor had needed such extensive work, which Carver had insisted was not quite finished, why did she not see any evidence of disrepair?
Marking the end of the second floor’s long corridor was a door plainer than the others but much more interesting to Nora’s curiosity. This door must have led to the third floor she had seen from the outside. The knob was either broken or locked, but after a few turns, she could almost feel the click of release. She yanked and rattled, shaking its rust, until it finally gave.
Just as she thought. Beyond the door was another staircase.
“Hello?”
Her candle cast stark shadows as she climbed the stairs to the third level. Here, the floorboards were cold and the walls bare. The first room she entered was empty except for a plain, crude bed and moth-eaten curtains. The second room was similar only more dusty. The third, however, made her pause.
Several paintings leaned against the walls, some large, some small, but all wore elegant frames and carried the marks of master artists. One portrait in particular snatched Nora’s attention. It was of a woman quite beautiful with sparkling eyes, chestnut hair with hints of red, a fine gown, and very familiar features.
“Mrs. Westlake?”
Nora hardly realized the whispered question had come from her own mouth. She didn’t know how it could be, but it was her neighbor in younger days. A strange sensation overcame her, like a bite of food that would not go down. She almost ran downstairs to wake her father, but the strangeness of her discovery made her yet more curious about the other rooms.
The next room was filled with an assortment of trinkets, clocks, and even jewelry in a jumble on the floor, shoved into the corners, and along the walls. The third room made Nora gasp and drop her candle, the flame extinguishing before it could cause any trouble except for leaving her in darkness, but she knew what she had seen in that candlelight. Even in the faint, ghostly light of the moon that slipped in, she could see the outlines of the only other piece of evidence she needed to be absolutely sure.
A room full of instruments.
Her heart pounded. Her breath quickened.
“Oh, Aaron. I wish you were here!” She didn’t need any confirmation to know that these were the instruments stolen from his mother’s music room. “You’ve banished us to the thieves’ lair.”
Though there were multiple thieves, there was only one man who could have shown her father another house, one man who accused the chimney sweep, the same man who handled business with the servants and their supposed lowered wages, and one man who suggested she was a mistake.
Carver.
Chapter 31
Nora rummaged through everything, the paintings, the silverware, the candlesticks, stirring up dust and flecks of dirt and cobwebs as she went. Carver must now be aware that she and her father were at Raven Manor. The walls around her suddenly looked too close, the room too small. She might as well have been a fly caught in a web.
Inhaling deeply, she paused her frantic search and forced herself to slow. Against the wall in the room full of portraits was a plain, small writing desk. On the desk was an intricately carved wooden chest with a lock on it.
“Well…” She placed a hand on her hip. “I’ve already broken one lock.”
She reached for a nearby, heavily weighted candlestick and pounded on the lock until it snapped clean off.
Lifting the lid, she was hit with the smell of parchment and ink. The inside was full of letters. Stacks of them all in the same hand, all addressed toCat Holmrook castle. All were signedCas well,nothing more.Some were dated a few months before the late duke died though most were written within the past few months when Aaron had been home.
Nora sat on the edge of the small, spindly chair and moved her eyes over samples of lines from the letters as quickly as she could. Every minute she sat in that chair was another minute Carver might be closing in.
You should understand by now how I operate. Money first, then answers.
She dropped that letter on the floor and read from another.
