Page 72 of Rogue of the Greenwood
“A badly written song. I just wonder how he has convinced St. John to go along with it. If I am gone and St. John holds the mortgage, then he’s the one who has claim to the estate. He must know the estate is not as diminished as Gisborn pretends. What hold does Gisborn have over him?”
“That’s a good question,” Will said. “Perhaps Gisborn is not so clever after all?”
“Or perhaps we’re still missing something. Either way, my steward is not going to like it when he finds I’m alive. We need to have the documentation in our hands to prove what he’s done before he knows that we’re after him.”
“But we’ve looked the place over, Rob. It just isn’t here.”
“It’s in this house somewhere; I know it.”
“Maybe he keeps it closer to him, in a more intimate place.”
“His bedchamber, perhaps?”
“You know where that might be?” Will asked.
“He’s supposed to live in a cottage I supplied himnearby. Balford confirmed that he’s been living here since my sad demise, though. I assume he will have taken over one of the better bedrooms. Why don’t you go to the end of the hallway and check the library? I’ll go upstairs.”
Will nodded, holding his lantern and adjusting the shutter. They both carried a light, but they’d been keeping them as dim as possible. It made searching more difficult, but it was safer that way. They did not need to alert anyone to their presence.
He’d sent word to Balford, of course, to let him know what they were about. But Balford still was not sure all the staff could be trusted. He warned Robert that he would not make it widely known in the servants’ quarters that their true master was back. If Robert was detected, there was a risk the staff would think it their duty to alert Gisborn.
Glancing out into the corridor, Robert confirmed this wing of the house was deserted. Will ducked out of the office and turned to the left, heading for the library. It would be an odd place to hide papers, but Gisborn would know it was a room seldom used by servants and there certainly were plenty of hiding places there.
Robert turned to the right and moved silently toward the main section of the house. After several yards, this corridor opened into a wide hall. This had, at one time, been the entrance hall, but a new façade had been built over the years and an even grander entrance was now used.
There was a staircase here, though, and Robert felt secure that he could dash up it undetected. Gisborn’s dinner would be well under way, so that should keep him and his guests well occupied in the newer,grander areas of the house. No doubt he was, even now, impressing his guests with his faux splendor.
What were those guests doing, Robert wondered? He thought of Marianne, all dressed in her finest gown, her flaming hair radient as the candlelight flickered off of it. Were her eyes shining with excitement? Was her smile dazzling her host? Was she, in fact, pleased with the flattery Gisborn probably heaped on her?
The thought of that man making pleasantries with her, perhaps putting his hands on her—touching her knee under the table, brushing her as he walked by, holding her for an impromptu dance—infuriated Robert. Surely Marianne would never allow such advances. She’d put Gisborn off, wouldn’t she?
No, she would not. Of course, she would not. Robert had specifically asked her to hold the man’s attention, to keep him occupied. She had promised to do exactly that. One thing he knew for certain about Marianne Maidland: if she indicated she would do something, nothing would stop her. Whatever liberties Gisborn chose to take, Marianne would endure them as part of her duty. She was here to be a distraction for Gisborn, and Robert knew she was more than up to the challenge. As much as it nauseated him to think of it, if Gisborn showed interest in her, she would do all that she could to make herself agreeable tonight.
Robert wanted to smash the nearest vase on a table. He’d sent her to the man, asked her to waltz into the wolf’s den and make a pet of him! He could kick himself.
Gisborn did not deserve the time of day from Miss Maidland. She was too good for him, by far. She wastoo good for all of them. Robert would give a thrashing to any man who so much as looked at her in a too-familiar way.
His step faltered. He’d been about to climb the stairs, but he froze, his hand gripping the rail. He may not have found anything to confirm his suspicions about Gisborn, but he’d certainly confirmed something about himself.
He cared a great deal for Miss Maidland! The thought of her with any other man, of her in any sort of danger, made him nearly crazy. It was all he could think of!
What was Gisborn doing with her at this moment? Was he treating her fairly or did he suspect she knew more than she indicated? Was he making her regret her promise to aid Robert tonight?
He had to know what was happening to her.
Abandoning his plan to go upstairs, he crossed to the corridor on the other side of the hall. It would take him to the newer part of the house, the areas that Gisborn was likely using for his party. Robert would just catch a glimpse, just reassure himself that Marianne was fine. Then he would be able to continue his search.
If he did not need to give Gisborn a thrashing first.
Marianne’s face hurt from pretending to smile. The dinner was tedious, to say the least. Mr. Gisborn was disgusting, to say the most. He took every opportunity to glower at her, to lick his lips and smile slyly at her. What could she do but smile back?
Her stomach felt sick and she wanted to go homeand bathe.
But she was doing this for Robert. Even now, he was probably in this house, digging through Mr. Gisborn’s things and finding what he would need to be able to finally come out of the shadows and make Mr. Gisborn pay for his duplicitous behavior. She could hardly wait to see the smugness drain from Mr. Gisborn’s face, the heat fade from his eyes as he realized all his efforts had failed.
But what if Robert wasn’t finding what he needed? What if this whole business wasn’t ended after tonight? Well, it certainly couldn’t’ go on. She’d already decided that she would find a way to see Robert tonight, to warn him about what she’d overheard. It was just that… now that she was here, with Mr. Gisborn and his greasy gazes, she wasn’t quite sure how to get away from him.
“The weather has been lovely,” Meg said when the group had fallen into an uncomfortable silence.
