Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society, Book Three) Rough Draft

Chapter Six

"What care have I for a party when I am about to see my family's name and reputation dragged into the mud?"

"What a shame as you were so insistent about the party before," Lady Leith said as she picked up the small pile of acceptances. "In a matter of days, we will have a houseful of guests and I'm sure you wouldn't want to give them any hint of gossip to take away with them."

For a moment, I was certain the dowager was trembling with rage. "If you were truly concerned about gossip and scandal, you would send that impertinent adventurous away!"

"I think this conversation has exhausted itself," my employer said, lifting her pen. "If I do not take tea with you, I will see you at dinner."

The dismissal was obvious. With a slight gasp, the dowager took a step back. She then spun around and left the sitting room. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "My feelings exactly, Nelson," Lady Leith said, her expression drawn and tired.

"If it would make things easier for you, I am willing to leave," I said softly. Lady Leith did not need this stress.

"Easier? The dowager would win once again and that is the last thing I want to happen." Lady Leith shook her head. "She may have more experience in getting her way but she will find that I am more determined."

Her right hand slipped down to her stomach. The intimate gesture confirmed my suspicions. "You're with child, aren't you," I said before I could stop myself.

She lifted her gaze quickly and her cheeks flushed bright red. "I have my suspicions," she said, her tone quiet. "The signs are there, but I would prefer to wait until I am sure before anyone else knows. My husband should be the first to know."

Instead it was her maid. I cleared my throat and glanced at my notes. "Will there be anything else, my lady?"

"Not at the moment. Don't forget to speak to Cook about the basket. I intend to walk to the Emerson cottage in an hour's time."

"I will be ready."

Lady Leith shook her head. "I will not need your company. Mr. Stone will be accompanying me as there seems to be a complaint about the cottage roof."

Mr. Stone was going to be away from the office. If I could find a key in that time, I could get in and make my search. "Of course, my lady." It took all of my self control to keep my eagerness from showing as I retreated from the room.

Now was my chance.

~*~

As quick as I could, I conveyed Lady Leith's wishes to the Cook and then Mrs. Horner. At the right time, I had a bonnet and spencer ready for my employer's walk. She thanked me, took the basket of food, and started for the office where Mr. Stone was at work. On a whim, I followed her down, taking care to stay far enough back that Lady Leith did not take notice of me.

"Mr. Stone, come. It's time for us to go see the Emersons," she announced as she stood in the open doorway. "Surely you did not forget our appointment this afternoon?"

"Lady Leith, I'm afraid I have a great deal to do," I heard Mr. Stone respond. "There are several positions in need of filling in the household, as you must be aware. I will consult my schedule and let you know what time would be convenient."

"Right now is convenient for me, Mr. Stone," Lady Letih said, her tone reproving. "With a party of guests about to arrive, it will be some time before I am free to visit the Emersons. This is a matter that must be addressed sooner rather than later as you yourself said in your report."

There was a pause. "Are you asking me to leave my work?" the steward finally asked. His tone was one of resentment.

"Indeed not. I am asking you to perform an aspect of your work that must be addressed. However, if you feel it is an inconvenience, I shall see the Emersons on my own. I will be sure to tell them all complaints shall be addressed to their satisfaction."

Taking a step back, Lady Leith moved to do as she said. The sound of a book being slammed shut could be heard in the office. A moment later, Mr. Stone came rushing out,his jacket in hand. "A moment, Lady Leith," he said, pulling the door shut behind him.

Lady Leith continued on as though she hadn't heard him. With a sharp curse, Mr. Stone let go of the door handle and rushed away from the office door. He went in the opposite direction of where I stood and vanished around the corner in pursuit of her ladyship.

I couldn't help but smile at Lady Leith's maneuvering of the situation. Was it the suspected child who inspired her to take charge of her household? Whatever the reason, I would not question it. She deserved to make her home how she desired.

In any event, there was one thing Mr. Stone had failed to do when he left the office. The door remained unlocked.

It opened with ease and I glanced around once before I stepped in. Eager to complete my task as soon as possible, I went straight to the desk. Papers were stacked in organized piles. The inkwell was still open and a pen was resting by it, though whatever Mr. Stone had been writing was out of sight.

Breathing out, I took a seat at the desk and began to flip through the papers. It was unlikely that anything incriminating would be left in plain sight, but I had to check to be sure. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and it only took me a few minutes to glance at each page. None of the handwriting on the papers looked familiar and nothing seemed suspiciously worded.

Next, I searched through the drawers of the desk, which took less time than the correspondence had. "Nothing," I said with a sigh as I sat back.

Either Sir Horace was clever enough not to keep incriminating notes at his home or he was not at all guilty of spying against the country.

As I went to push the last drawer closed, I heard a slight click from somewhere in the desk. Puzzled, I bent down and examined the underside of the piece of furniture. The shadows made it difficult to see and I ran my hand along the surface of the wood. My fingers found a small latch.

"What is this?" Slipping out of the chair, I went onto my hands and knees to climb under the desk. I pulled the latch and watched a small door swing open. Reaching into the small space, I pulled out a small handful of papers. "Now why does Sir Horacehave this hidden away?"

The first paper was an unsigned letter. It was a brief note to inform Sir Horace of Jonathan Sinclair's death. Why had he kept it for so many years? And why did he feel it necessary to hide it?

Unsettled, I set it aside and unfolded the next piece of paper. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the series of numbers that filled the paper. It looked exactly as the ones that had been found in Jonathan's possession!