They were still some way off, but Morris thought it looked deserted. As they rumbled over a wooden bridge, he said, “Jolly nice. How much land?”
“Roughly two square miles. This stream is the eastern boundary, and the hills mark the northern line.”
“Tidy little parcel. Who manages it for you?”
“I’ve a couple living here who used to work for my grandmama. They keep four farmhands, I understand.” Gideon’s glance raked over the meadows. “Though you’d not guess it at the moment,” he muttered, looking rather grim.
They drove on along the well-kept road edged with rioting wildflowers, through fields where young corn waved softly, or the feathery heads of carrots marched in neat rows. Distantly, cows stood hock deep in the lush meadow grasses. A curving drive led to the house, and the postilions stopped the team in front. Gideon climbed from the coach. His hail brought no response nor sign of life. Touched by apprehension, he strode up the steps between flowerbeds where daffodils bobbed golden heads to the tune of the breeze and tulips splashed their bright colours against the stems of lofty hollyhocks. The front door was not locked, and he hurried inside only to halt, shocked into immobility.
Following, Morris gasped, “Lord save us all!”
The wide hall was littered, drawers pulled from the sideboard and tossed heedlessly. The tall case clock had been wrenched open, the pendulum torn off, the glass door cracked from top to bottom.
They walked, stunned, into the spacious withdrawing room that Gideon remembered as being so warm and welcoming, and was now a shambles of overturned chairs and tables, broken vases, torn cushions, even the pictures having been pulled down and thrown haphazardly about the floor.
“They were thorough,” remarked Morris. “You’ve got to give ’em credit for that.”
“I’d like to give ’em a sight more than credit,” said Rossiter grittily. “Damme, but they want that accursed chessman!”
He went back onto the steps and called to the postilions to take the carriage to the barn and bait the horses. Returning, he and Morris made a rapid and painful inspection of the house. Room after room had been ransacked and wrecked. It was a violation; a painfully wrenching invasion of this personal place, which was inexpressibly dear to him. Coming slowly down the stairs, he tried not to show the extent of his rageful grief, and muttered, “I hope to God none of my people were hurt in this debacle!”
“Oh, mygoodness! Gideon!”
Wearing a beige travelling gown and with a beige lace-trimmed cap perched atop her high-piled curls, my lady Lutonville stood in the entry hall, her maid peering curiously over her shoulder.
The sight of her was balm for Rossiter’s bruised spirit and he went quickly to take her outstretched hand. “If it needs this to bring you to me,” he said with his wry grin, “’tis worth it!”
“I came for quite another reason,” she answered. “La, but how dreadful this is! What senseless destruction. I am so sorry. I know how you always have loved this old place. Did you catch sight of the vandals?”
“No. We arrived but ten minutes ago.”
Morris growled, “I wish wehadseen the filthy louts!”
In her distress, Naomi had been aware only of Gideon. Belatedly, she said, “Lieutenant, I ask your pardon! Whatever must you think of me? I had not meant to ignore you.”
He bowed with unfailing courtesy, and assured her he quite understood her reaction. “Nasty shock for you, ma’am. You didn’t expect to walk into this.”
“No, indeed.” Naomi looked sadly about the wreckage. “’Tis frightful! Frightful! What of your servants, Gideon?”
“Would that I knew.” He righted an overturned chair. “I had hoped to show you the farm under different circumstances. My apologies that you must see it in such a state.”
Morris picked up a heavy silver candelabra. “They do not appear to have robbed you, at all events.” He glanced at Maggie, who looked pale and frightened. “C’mon, m’dear,” he said bracingly. “Let us start to set things to rights.”
They all began to pick up those articles not hopelessly smashed. Retrieving a little clock, Naomi listened anxiously for the tick, then handed it to Gideon. “’Tis still running, thank goodness. Oh, how silly we are! We can accomplish so little. You will need help to tidy this poor house.” She saw that he was watching her rather quizzically, and went on, “I fancy you must be wondering why I am here.”
“I scarce dare ask.”
“I came to tell you that you owe my papa a most humble apology, sir. He has found the chess piece!”
“Be dashed,” exclaimed Morris, hurrying over to them.
“How?” asked Rossiter.
“In the strangest fashion. Papa received a package through the Post yesterday. ’Twas from the jeweller in Canterbury, explaining that he had given me another gentleman’s property by mistake. He enclosed the chess piece belonging to Papa, and desired that the other be returned to him. Which will,” she acknowledged thoughtfully, “be rather awkward.”
“More so than you might think,” said Morris.
Rossiter asked tersely, “Did the jeweller name this other gentleman?”
