“Then we best high tail it to Upper Brook Street.”
*
Percival Jebkin unlockedthe door to the townhome with unsteady hands.
“Sir Richard simply closed these doors and returned to his station in India after Lady Astyr’s death three years ago,” Percival said as he pushed open the door. “Jebkin and Jebkin assisted him in removing and storing all his valuables from the house, but much of the furniture remains.”
Jack strode into the expansive hallway and took in the wide staircase, lush Persian rug, and elegant blue and gold papered walls.The snake, he muttered under his breath.
Brandt whistled. “This place is something, ain’t it?”
All that time, my uncle and aunt lived like kings, while we—
He shook his head.
No, I would not have wanted to exchange our little cottage for this house. We were free birds on the moors. Free and happy!He thought of his twin sister and smiled.Frances would have hated this place.Sixteen years had passed since her death from consumption, and the hole it left in his heart still gaped.
“As I mentioned, the paintings and other valuables were all removed and placed in the care of Jebkin and Jebkin at the time of Lady Astyr’s death. Of course, everything remaining in the house will have to be inventoried, cataloged, and sold, which may take a few weeks.”
“I don’t have a few weeks,” Jack snapped.
Percival frowned. “I don’t understand—”
“Where are the papers we asked for?” Brandt cut into Percival’s sentence.
The law clerk redirected his attention to his work bag and extracted a rolled document secured with a string. “I prepared a copy for you, but I will need to take the original back to the office this evening. If anyone discovers it’s missing—”
“Quit yer yammerin’!” Brandt snatched the document and passed it to Jack.
Jack untied the string around his uncle’s will and unraveled it. As he did so, another rolled paper fluttered to the floor. Brandt scooped it up and untied the string around it. He unrolled and scanned the document in silence.
Jack saw the color drain from Brandt’s face. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just some legal talk. Makes no dang sense to me.” He rolled up the paper again.
Percival came forward to retrieve the document. “If it’s part of the original will, I must return it to the office.”
“It ain’t,” Brandt snapped.
“Let me see.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t lie. I saw the expression on your face. You turned as white as a snowdrop. Now, let me have it.” Jack held out his hand.
“I ain’t gonna do that right now.”
“What?” Jack asked, incredulous. Why would Brandt withhold information from him? It made no sense. Something was afoot, and he intended to find out what it was. He tossed his uncle’s will aside and put his hand on his holster.
“Give me that paper, Brandt.”
Percival whimpered and scrambled on all fours to recover Sir Richard’s will.
“Go on,” Brandt said without flinching. “I dare you.”
“Hand me that damn document,” Jack repeated.
“You’d better shoot me, Cowboy, ’cause there ain’t no way you’re leaving this house alive if you point a gun at me.”
