“Two days, I’d guess. Maybe longer knowing Grandmother. She might want to delay them to ensure the servants have time to arrive first. At least I’m hoping the staff arrives before they do.”
“I want to find out what the Gallaghers have been up to and what is happening with Mr. Browning before the Tidemarks arrive. I want to ensure I can present to Edmund exactly how much the Gallaghers have cost the marquessate since he chose not to return here.”
He laughed. “On our return from the village, I’ll go through the account books to look for any irregularities. What do you say they will show a salary paid to Carlyle that hasn’t been?”
Her lips compressed. “I’m certain of it.”
* * *
Lakehurst,his jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up, looked up from the letter he was reading when the door to the study opened.
Cassie pushed the door open wide so Gwinnie could enter carrying a coffee service. She walked slowly and carefully—a feat difficult for his boisterous twin—and placed the heavy tray on the sideboard in the study.
“Agnes and Rose are putting their heads together to plan a dinner for everyone,” Gwinnie said. “Carlyle butchered a couple of chickens, so to have enough for everyone, we will have a chicken stew tonight. I shall certainly be glad when the cook from Malmsby House gets here!”
Lakehurst nodded acknowledgement.
Cassie poured the coffee. “I’ll let you fix your coffee to your liking and I’ll watch to learn your preferences,” she said. She added cream and sugar to her own and stepped aside.
“Have you discovered anything interesting yet?” Cassie asked Lord Lakehurst.
“I was just reading a letter from this Mr. Browning you mentioned,” he said as he stirred his coffee.
“The estate steward.”
He nodded. “Judging by this letter, I would hazard that Mr. Gallagher told him he was only needed for the intake of the quarterly rents, which he was to report directly to him, not to Mr. Tidemark or yourself. Mr. Browning objected, saying he disagreed with this arrangement, that he should have visibility to the accounting for both profit and expense, especially as he had been told to raise the rents by ten percent.”
“Ten percent!” objected Cassie. “There are tenants that would break! Edmund never mentioned raising the rents.”
“I’m not certain he did. I have found no correspondence from Mr. Tidemark that suggests that. What I have seen is an admonishment to guard expenses, and at this time, he saw no reason for a raise as their daily tasks had gone down with an empty castle,” Lakehurst said.
He sipped his coffee. “I’m sure that did not sit well with the Gallaghers. And maybe what set them on the path of dishonesty?” Lakehurst suggested.
“I think they were dishonest before that,” Cassie said drily.
Gwinnie snorted inelegantly. “That I would believe. So, brother, what have you gone through so far, and where should we begin to canvas the study?”
“I am concentrating on the desk. Cassie, do you know if one of the desk drawers has a false back or bottom?”
“No, I don’t. I rarely came into this room. Richard preferred it that way.”
“Interesting,” Lakehurst mused.
“Did you find something that might show that?”
“Possibly. I’ll look more closely when I’ve finished seeing what I can find after going through the drawers.”
“The account books should be in the bookcase to the right of the desk,” Cassie said. “I do remember that from the few times I was in this room.”
“Let’s start there,” Gwinnie said. “What should we be looking for?”
“I don’t know, precisely. I think we should discover what books are from the last two years—from six months before Richard died to the present.”
“I’d also suggest quickly going through the other books to look for loose papers or pamphlets stuck in places they don’t belong,” suggested Lakehurst.
“I’ll start with that task, and I’ll organize the ledgers by date, as I know nothing about the estate,” Gwinnie said, crossing to the bookcase and looking up at the volumes in the shelves.
“I’ll look through the more recent ledgers,” Cassie said. She picked out a few books with newer appearances and set them on a chess table under the window. The later afternoon sun streamed across the books and the floor, illuminating the rug pattern's rich red, gold, and brown threads. “Though I can’t imagine Mr. Gallagher would make records pointing to embezzlement in the official estate books.”
