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He smiled. “Oh, well, we like things as they are. We were all told you were dead. It is good to see that it is untrue. Would you like a drink?”

“No. I need to find out where my mother and sister went.”

Barlet looked at him, his brows drawn together. “Where they went? I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“You don’t know they are not there? There is not a soul there. What happened to all the staff?”

A tall man stood and stepped forward. “Your mother sent us all away, after she found out you were…supposed to be dead.”

“How long ago was that?’

“It were about two months ago, maybe a little more. We need our jobs, sir.”

“Does anybody here know where Mrs. Markham went?” he asked the room.

Another man stood. Thomas thought he looked familiar but could not place him. “When she sacked us all she said it were because she didn’t think she would have the funds to pay us. She never said she was plannin’ to go nowhere.”

“So, for two months no one delivered anything to Milford or saw them? Surely, my land steward has still been running the estate?’

“He up and left. Works somewhere up north now,” said Bartlet.

“My tenants?”

“They are all still there a’course,” Bartlet answered. “Most just waiting to see who the new master was going to be.”

This was getting worse by the moment. He needed to think, but he could feel his jaw clenching and unclenching as his brain darted from thought to thought. Why would they leave and not put the house under covers? No servants being around made some sense as to why their beds were unmade, still…”

He turned to the tall man. “Did you work at Milford?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Has the butler got a position elsewhere?” he asked.

“He did, sir,” the man replied.

“What is your name?”

“Kingsley. I was a footman.”

“You are hereby promoted to butler, if you are willing,” Thomas said putting his hand out.

Kingsley shook his hand. “I would be honored.”

“Good.” Thomas turned to the rest of the shocked patrons. “As you can see, I am not dead. If you have any information about my mother or sister, report it to Kingsley here,” he said. “He is now my butler.”

The man brought himself up to his full height. “Thank you, sir.”

Thomas nodded. “Can you gather all the staff who worked at the house and are still here and ask them to return to the house, unless they have other positions, of course. I will see they are all paid.”

A cheer went up in the pub as patrons celebrated the return of Captain Markham. It was a pity that Thomas could not celebrate. At least, by the sounds of things, his mother and sister were not kidnapped but had simply closed the house. His pension should have still gone to them, and he would have had a payout from the Ring at the confirmation of his death. Had she really fallen on hard times? To the point that they had up and left in such a hurry? It all didn’t sit right. Had Stafford not paid out his insurance?

There was an aunt in Somerset. Perhaps his mother went there. He would send a boy with a message and hoped that they were there. If so, why did they leave all their clothes and belongings? His mind could not reconcile it, and his gut churned with worry.

It was dark now, and John Driver was lighting the lamps. “What would you like to do, sir?”

“We are going back to the house. You must stay in the house with us, John.”

“No, sir, I stay with the horses. I always have.”