“Dodo?” Benjamin guessed. “Raptor? African swallow?”
“—partridge.”
Benjamin blinked. He was to break a bottle of wine upon the helm of a landlocked aviary in order to present all and sundry with their first ceremonial… partridge? His teeth clenched.
Of course he was.
“The aviary must open within a month of this reading,” the solicitor concluded. “Silkridge must remain on premises until that date, or else forfeit forever the gold locket currently held in trust.”
“Are youbammingme?” Benjamin’s blood heated. “I don’t have a month before the new session of Parliament. I have less than a fortnight.”
The elderly woman patted his arm. “Where there is a will, there’s a way.”
“That isnotwhat that phrase means,” he muttered. Where Grandfather was concerned, there was rarely a way.
Muscles tight with anger, Benjamin made his way toward the dais. Grandfather had betrayed him not once but twice, by withholding the locket from its rightful owner first in life and now also in death.
He had obviously taken pleasure in crafting his ridiculous challenge. Benjamin clenched his fists. He hated that his grandfather was making him dance to strings for something that should already be his.
A grandfather was meant to love his grandchild. Not taunt him with the memory of his dead mother.
“Where is it?” he demanded as he stalked to the dais.
The solicitor lowered the papers. “Where is what?”
“The locket,” Benjamin growled. “Before I lift a finger, I must verify it still exists and that my grandfather isn’t toying with me.”
“Mr. Marlowe would never toy with his grandson,” chided a kindly voice behind him.
If only that were true.
Chapter 5
After stalking out of the reading of the will, Benjamin did not stay to share refreshments with the rest of the townsfolk. His appetite had been spoiled, and he certainly didn’t feel like sharing stories about his grandfather.
Nor could he return to his cold, impersonal chamber. There was nothing intrinsically wrong with the guest quarters. They had clearly been recently renovated and were spotlessly clean. But a bedchamber was all it was.
If he was going to be stuck here for the next few days, he was going to need an office… Or at the very least, a writing desk and stationery. He must send word to London that he had suffered a brief delay but would still arrive well before Parliament opened to continue policy discussions with his committees.
And then he would do whatever it took to make the aviary halfway presentable and shove a partridge inside so that he could retrieve the locket and be on his way. By tomorrow, if possible.
It all depended on the current state of the aviary project.
He caught sight of the lead housekeeper. Perfect. No one would know the castle better.
“May I be of service, Your Grace?” she asked.
“I hope so.” He tried his best to mask his impatience with his grandfather’s machinations. “Is there an empty study I could use or a desk I might borrow?”
“The counting house,” she replied without hesitation. “It was your grandfather’s primary study. I am confident you will find all you need there.”
Of course. Mr. Fawkes had clerked in the counting house since before Benjamin was born. After seeing the state of his health yesterday, Benjamin had assumed Mr. Fawkes had retired along with Grandfather.
No matter. Even if the room had been untouched for some time, the housekeeper was right. It should contain everything Benjamin might need. At least for such a brief stay.
The counting house might be a small chamber atop the south tower, but in some ways, it was the heart of the castle. That was where all the accounting operations took place. The resident clerks ensured every detail was carefully logged in meticulous journals of accounts. Mr. Fawkes and his books boasted an encyclopedic knowledge of every transaction the castle had ever incurred. The room would be empty, but still be well-stocked with supplies.
Benjamin strode to the south tower and wound his way up to the top of the turret. To his surprise, every wall sconce he passed contained a lit candle.
