“Long one.” He kissed her gently, firmly, possessively, before loosening his hold. “How did you and Hector manage?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s have tea before it gets cold, and I’ll tell you,” she said, running her hand down his arm to take his hand.
He glanced over at the settee. It had become their favorite spot.
“Bring the side table closer, and I’ll pour,” she said.
He followed her directions. She sat down elegantly and poured while he gave himself over to the sight of her glowing hair, slender neck, and graceful back. Soon she cuddled in, and they sipped tea in silent accord.
She put hers down first, took his cup, and set it on the table. She turned so he could hold her while she laid her head on his shoulder. “There’s nothing to report. Hector found nothing,” she said, snuggling close. “Did you discover anything useful?”
“Yes and no. I told you the handwriting changed. Six months later, I noticed a discrepancy. At first, it was small amounts, a few shillings at a time widely spaced. Whoever had taken over the books was skimming.”
Mia peered directly at Gideon. “We still haven’t gotten a sample of Jem’s writing,” she said before laying her head back down.
“Earlier this year, the amounts became larger and more frequent.”
“When exactly did that begin?” she asked.
“About the time Felton Tavernash moved in,” he told her.
“Why fraudulent bookkeeping? Why wouldn’t he just dispense cash to Tavernash and so note it in the ledgers?”
“Marshall told me he refused Tavernash access to estate funds. I think he meant it. Either he lied or someone else gave Tavernash money and didn’t want Marshall or the solicitors to know it.”
“We need to confront Marshall about reading. Something isn’t right,” she murmured. “You told me the solicitors suspected unapproved land sales. Have you found anything like that?”
“Perhaps. There’s a page missing from five months ago. The new page picks up where the previous one left off. I asked Marshall about it. He said he made an error and tore it out, but he was flustered. He’s hiding something. So I asked him outright about land sales, and he told me that Grimes, the freeholder whose fields border Woodglen just beyond Nether Abbas, tried to claim part of the lower cornfields, and Marshall had to send him packing. He said the man claimed he owned it, then got shifty-eyed when pushed.”
Mia groaned. “Another puzzlement. We’ll never get to the bottom of what is going on.”
“Perhaps not, but it is beginning to appear that several things date to the arrival of our buffoon of a would-be heir.”
“But you have no proof of anything.”
“Not one iota. I see you packed up the papers. Find anything interesting?”
“No birth records. No marriage records. No family letters rejoicing in or denouncing an American marriage.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m sure Phillip would have searched, and he’d have said if he found anything.”
She got up and fetched a bundle of letters. “I thought you might find these interesting.”
Gideon scanned them quickly. “The snake was in Charleston my first year and more,” he murmured.
“It appears so. I’m sorry. More burdens for you to carry. Would your grandfather have let him near your mother if they weren’t married?”
He shrugged. “Probably not, but there’s nothing here to say whether relations continued.”
“More questions. Still no proof,” she murmured, snuggling back in.
He busied himself kissing his way down her neck.
“Gideon, does it matter?” she asked in between kissing him back.
Did it?“My birth? To Phillip, perhaps.” He moved to exploring the curl of her ear.
“What about Woodglen’s finances?” she asked.
