“Brooches. Necklaces. Minor pieces. All claimed to be from the estate of a former ambassador’s widow.”
Townsend reached into his coat and drew out another sheet. “The estate in question sold several lots, one as recently as this year, and another nearly thirty years earlier.”
Gabriel stilled. Leticia’s fingers hesitated on the page. “That’s a long time span.”
“Edward found it curious enough to include the document,” Townsend said. “The same estate manager handled sales nearly thirty years apart. He thought the trail was worth following. The first lot included seemingly unrelated items, a silver teapot, a beaded reticule with a broken clasp, and a porcelain doll.”
Leticia exchanged a glance with Gabriel. Her voice became quieter. “People collect odd things.” Yet unease coiled in her stomach.
“True,” Townsend said. “But sometimes oddities connect more than they appear to.”
He leaned back in his chair, watching them all with the ease of a man who had seen a great deal and still found the company more interesting than the problem.
Gabriel straightened in his chair. “Same estate manager every time.”
“Which means,” Leticia said, eyes narrowing in thought, “he might know who owned the pieces before they were sold.”
“Or,” Gabriel added, “how they came to be in the widow’s collection in the first place.”
Barrington folded his arms, regarding her with interest. “That’s a long memory to keep.”
“Some men keep meticulous ledgers,” Townsend said. “Edwardthought it worth noting. Said if anyone could give you a trail to follow, it would be this fellow.”
Leticia skimmed the papers again, her focus steadied. “Then he is our next step. One conversation could tie these threads together.”
Gabriel glanced at her, one brow arched. “If he’s inclined to share what he knows.”
“That,” she said with a faint smile, “is what charm is for.”
Barrington chuckled. “If you’re volunteering, Lady Salisbury, I imagine the poor man won’t stand a chance.”
“Nor will you,” Gabriel murmured, though his tone was so mild it could have been mistaken for agreement.
Townsend smirked at the interplay, clearly entertained. “You two always work like this?”
“We’re not working together,” Gabriel said at once.
Leticia tilted her head toward him. “Aren’t we?”
The flicker of a smile faded across his mouth before he bent again to the ledgers. “If we ride out tomorrow, we can be there before luncheon.”
“Tomorrow?” Barrington gave a low whistle. “Eager.”
“The longer we wait,” Gabriel said, “the more likely the trail will fade.”
“And the sooner,” Leticia added, “the thief has time to act again.”
Townsend gave her a full look. “Your instincts are good, Lady Salisbury.”
“They have to be,” she replied. “No one listens until it’s nearly too late.”
Silence pressed in, broken only by the cry of gulls outside the window.
Barrington slapped his hands against his knees. “Right, then. The estate manager it is. I’ll send a note ahead.”
“Don’t,” Gabriel said. “If he’s part of this…”
“He isn’t,” Barrington said.
