“February?”
Gideon watched him work it out for himself.
“Tavernash!” he cursed again. “Beg your pardon, ma’am. I should have denied that one the house the day he turned up.”
“We think Tavernash either bribed or found out, then threatened him,” Gideon said.
“Who else may have known?” Marshall exclaimed. “I feel like a benighted fool.”
“We don’t know. We have one more to add to this, though. In July—”
“Grimes. The man raved and raged but never told me who claimed to sell Woodglen land out from under the estate. Was it Jem or Tavernash?” Marshall shook his head. “I told him whoever did it was a damned liar with no authority and I didn’t owe him a farthing.”
“Both Jem and Grimes may have been betting on Tavernash inheriting soon. They thought they could wait you out,” Gideon said.
“Then you came,” Marshall said.
“Yes, complicating their game. There was one more recently. A month or so ago, thirty more pounds went missing. I put that one on the mother.”
Marshall sank back, and his head dropped backward. “I’ve let them steal the estate blind,” he moaned.
“Not quite. You’ve also increased yields and made the entire place twice as profitable than when you took over. That is clear from the ledgers as well,” Gideon told him. “From what I can tell, my brother has also invested those profits wisely. Was that your doing?”
“I made a few suggestions, but it was mostly him,” Marshall admitted. “I know fields, crops, livestock, a good groom from a slacker.” He shook his head. “Didn’t keep me from being taken from behind.”
“Mr. Marshall, am I correct that the reading problem plagued you as a child?” Mia asked.
“Aye. Teachers tried everything—even beating it into me. Nothing worked.”
“And yet you are extremely intelligent. I knew a man like that once. One of my father’s friends. His reasoning was superior and his memory prodigious, but he couldn’t learn to read. He said the lines on the page looked like squiggles and wiggled away,” Mia told him.
“I don’t know about wiggle, but they change,” Marshall said.
“My papa said it happened sometimes, like a kind of blindness. It doesn’t have to keep you from doing your job,” she said.
“We’ll see about that,” Gideon interrupted. “First, we have to deal with Jem and the Tavernash intrusions.”
“Aye. First, I’m going to thrash Jem Hawkins within an inch—”
Mr. Marshall!” Mia shouted, horrified.
“It may be a moot point.” Gideon explained Mia’s experiment and Jem’s likely disappearance.
“Bolted like a coward, did he?” Marshall said.
“We’ll see. For now, I suggest we play innocent. Tavernash and his lady take me for the idiot my father called me—at least, I think they do. Let’s see what they do in his absence.”
Marshall sighed deeply. “Wise. Who will keep the books, though?”
The silence that greeted that question stretched while Gideon sorted through ideas. He could do it himself temporarily.
Mia spoke up first. “I could do it,” she said.
“Temporarily,” Gideon said. He thought for a moment Marshall would scoff at the idea of a woman doing it. He didn’t.
“I no longer know who else I can trust. You may as well do it.”
“Only if you go over it with me every day. Explain the day’s activities and give over the reports and receipts. I’ll make the entries and tally the numbers, but I’ll read it all to you when I’m finished.”
