“A word with you,” Gareth said.
“Me, sir?” He squinted up, confused.
“Yes. You have served here a long time, I assume.”
“Fifteen years. Was at Chiswick House until I began to slow. This is where they put those of us getting on in years. I’m to be pensioned off next year.”
Fifteen years. That meant he came after the pictures were hidden in the attics. “When the last duke died, were there any big changes here?”
“Changes?”
“Movement of household goods. Visitors wanting to go through the attics or peek under the floorboards.”
He laughed. “Getting what they could before any inventory, you mean.”
“That is what I mean.”
“A lady came by. She took a pillow from one of the bedchambers. A relic of fond memories, she said. Perhaps she had enjoyed a particularly pleasant house party.”
“Nothing else? In all that time during the transition?”
He set his face into a placid mask and shook his head.
“Come now. You will not be criticized for telling me. No one will challenge that pension. Devonshire needs to know this. I ask in his name.”
“One day the second duchess arrived. A wagon accompanied her. She explained that the late duke had given her permission to take what she wanted for her own house, from any of his properties. I expect she chose this one because there would be no one to gainsay her.”
“What did she take?”
“Chairs and tables, I suppose.”
“You don’t know?”
“I discovered the obligation to be occupied elsewhere during most of her residence.”
Wise man. No wonder he had lasted so long in a duke’s service. He could not report what he had not seen, nor answer questions should they be asked.
“Were there any other such visits during your tenure here?”
“A few overnights while journeying elsewhere, on the part of relatives or nobility who did not want to impose on the main estate. There was one house party before the late duke passed. Mr. Clifford brought some of his naval officer friends here for a long hunting weekend.”
Clifford was old Devonshire’s bastard, by the same woman who later became his second duchess. The same duchess who had raided the place after her husband died. “Did you discover the need to be occupied elsewhere that time too?”
“Why, yes, sir. How did you know? My old aunt was feeling poorly, and since Mr. Clifford had brought his own servants, I took a short journey to visit her.”
“Were there any other times you discovered the need to be elsewhere?”
“Due to my aunt’s condition, I took the opportunity to visit her whenever visitors came with their own people.”
Gareth took his leave, mounted his horse, and set out to ride the property looking for who knew what.
He did not like that two of the people who now had to be questioned were the last duke’s wife and bastard son. If Ives had suspected where this would turn and had thrown him into the fire, he intended to thrash him soundly.
CHAPTER9
Going to Birmingham proved a complicated matter. Since she needed to also transport the paintings, Eva hired a wagon to take them to town. She and Rebecca sat in the back hoping it would not rain and ruin their bonnets.
The first stop upon reaching Birmingham was Mr. Stevenson’s stationery store. A short, bald man with bulbous eyes, he greeted Eva with a bigger smile than normal. She assumed that was because beautiful Rebecca stood at her side this time.
