He took her face in his hands. “Since I do not think I will have the chance to do this later—” All of last night lived in the kiss he gave her. Then he led her to the reception hall and handed her up the stairs.
She went to her bedchamber and stared at the corner floorboards. Nothing. No one had pried them up. Her coins still hung on that nail. Even more weighed down her reticule. She would survive this destruction because she had some money. She shuddered at the thought of how she would have managed if she did not.
The boards were fine, but nothing else. All the beds up here had been overturned. Cupboards had been emptied, their contents strewn around the space. A storage area behind a low door in Rebecca’s chamber gaped, the door open and the trunks ransacked.
“It looks as if they searched for money or valuables,” Gareth said.
“One has only to enter to know there will be none. We do not even have decent furniture.”
More of the same waited on the next level. There was no furniture up here, but some trunks that held her mother’s clothes and memories lived in one room. Those too had been violated, and on seeing this final assault, she lost her composure.
Weeping, she dropped to her knees and began gathering the old silks and shoes that still held the scents of her childhood from long ago. Even the destruction of her paintings did not hurt as much as this. A murderous rage took hold of her. She held the dresses to her face and cried out her anger and frustration.
Gareth knelt beside her. He took the clothes from her hands, folded them carefully, and placed them back in the trunk. “I do not like the idea of your living here alone.”
“It is my home.” She wiped her eyes with her hand. “I’ll be damned if I will be driven out.”
“Still—”
“I will not be made afraid to live in the only home I have known by whoever did this. Iwon’t.”
He said nothing more. He stood, and offered his hand to help her up.
They went back to the library and waited for the magistrate.
***
Sir Thomas Pickford appeared to be a competent magistrate. Tall, slender, and still much the officer he had once been in the army, he paced through the house, noting the destruction. He returned to the library and set its one chair close to the divan where Eva waited.
“You did not see them?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “I do not even know if it was one or more.”
“Probably more. Two at least. The chambers above show a careful method. This down here—” He gestured around. “A different mind did this.”
“It is clear she has nothing to steal,” Gareth said.
“True, but they searched just the same, while they had their fun.” He ignored Gareth and peered at Eva. “Is there anyone you have angered? Someone who might want to do this in spite?”
“That is an odd question, Sir Thomas,” Gareth said. The notion anyone would want to hurt Eva was preposterous.
“Not so odd, sir. Look around. We do not see the likes of this in this county, I can tell you that. Oh, there are thieves enough, but this—” He shook his head.
“Well, you have seen it now. I trust you will find those responsible.”
“I will try, but there is no telling who they are or where they are, is there? I will make inquiries, to find out if anyone saw something, perhaps while passing on the road in the evening. We will do what we can.” He turned his attention back to Eva. “It was not wise of you to wait until morning to seek help, Miss Russell. Are you going to be alone here much longer?”
“My sister will return in a few days.”
“Well, lock your doors. I do not think they will be back, but better to be careful.”
Sir Thomas took his leave, riding off. Gareth began setting the rest of the furniture in order in the house. When he came down from the bedchambers, he found Eva wiping paint off the landscapes.
He had felt a bloody rage on seeing the way those two paintings had been ruined. There could be no point in it other than cruelty. Perhaps Sir Thomas was correct and someone had done this out of spite.
Eva noticed him watching her. “I can use the canvases again,” she explained.
“They were lovely, and well done.”
