The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3), Sahara Kelly [english novels for students .TXT] 📗

“So what were they looking for?” she asked.

“That is indeed a good question.”

Gabriel moved to the window and peered out, then turned back. “And why did they expect to find it in here? They knew where to come, Royce,” he looked at the other man. “They came straight here, didn’t they?”

“Yes, they did.” Royce acknowledged Gabriel’s comment with a nod. “They knew where to come and what they were looking for…but I’d guess from this chaos that they didn’t find it.”

Gwyneth carefully stepped over a drawer, resting her hand against the wall for balance. But a broken table leg snagged her skirts and she tripped, falling against the panelling and bumping her shoulder.

She was quite surprised to find that the wood she hit caved inward with ease.

“My God,” breathed Royce, hurrying to her side. “I’ll be damned.” He untangled her skirts, picked her up and set her to one side. “Clever girl, Gwyneth. Look what we have here…”

Under the fascinated and silent gaze of both Gwyneth and Gabriel, he removed the broken wood to reveal a hidden cupboard.

Everything stilled as he peered into the cavity, a dark void in the panelling.

“Ooof…” He groaned as he stretched and reached downward, his jacket taut as he awkwardly grappled for something. “Got it.”

Gabriel and Gwyneth released simultaneous puffs of air. “What is it?” She asked first.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “A bag of something. Quite heavy.”

A noise from somewhere else in the house made them all jump.

“I think I’d like to leave now,” said Gabriel.

“A very good idea,” Royce nodded. “I don’t believe anyone is still here, but there’s no point in staying on the off chance we’ll come across anything else. This was clearly where the thieves thought they’d find something.”

“And they didn’t.” Gwyneth motioned to the ancient and filthy bag Royce carried.

“Assuming this is what they were after, then yes. I agree.”

“Time to leave.” Gabriel made haste to the door and beyond. “This house is making me feel most uncomfortable.”

Since that sentiment was shared by his fellows, Gabriel got his wish and less than five minutes later all three were tucked into the gig and leaving Fivetrees. Royce had locked the front door, hoping to dissuade any other unwanted visitors.

“You know,” said Gwyneth, “I can’t help but be thankful that whoever it was didn’t show up while Trick and Jane were here.”

“I agree,” said Royce, “although the smoke from their fires and the lights and so on would have made it clear that someone was in residence. That’s probably what put off the thieves until now.”

Gwyneth nodded, wrapped up once more and on Gabriel’s lap. “You’re quiet. Any thoughts?” she asked him.

He shivered a little. “That is not a happy house.” He chuckled. “I know. That sounds quite fanciful. But truly, when I took that first step inside, it was as if cold fingers walked down my spine. There’s no welcome, no greeting. No urge to enter.”

“I can’t argue that,” she agreed. “But perhaps with the right people in residence…a happy family, a large staff, that sort of thing…”

“Maybe.” He stared off into the distance. “But I would rather not return there if I don’t have to.”

“You don’t,” Royce said, his voice flat. “None of us do. And to be very honest, I agree with Gabriel. That is not a happy house.”

Gwyneth’s mind darted back to Kilham Abbey, and she shivered too. “I know what you mean.”

*~~*~~*

Of course their return brought the other three men to the hall, eager to welcome them back and hear the details of their trip to Fivetrees.

Ben had been summoned and was disappearing down the small lane to the barn on the gig as Jeremy closed the front door.

“Tell us all,” he demanded, taking Gwyneth’s coat and bonnet.

“Let’s get warm first. I’m still chilled from that awful mausoleum.” Gabriel shuddered.

“That bad?” Evan loaded up with jackets and mufflers, walking to the hooks and hanging them up.

“Every bit that bad and more,” said Gwyneth. “But we did find something.” She glanced at the bag Royce was just picking up after removing his coat. “And I can’t wait to see what’s in it.”

Within moments they were all near the roaring fire in the parlour, watching as Royce set his burden down on the floor. He sat down next to it, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s old. I can tell you that much.” He stared at the faded fabric. “Hand sewn, I’d guess.” Gently he untied the brown cord that held the ruched gathers together and secured the top. It was not unlike a lady’s reticule, but much larger. The material looked as if it might have been decorated at one point, and as his hands moved, dust fell away revealing some faded flowers and a couple of fleur-de-lys designs.

Gwyneth leaned forward. “And hand-embroidered too, if I’m not mistaken.”

He nodded. “Could be.”

The fact it was heavy was obvious, since it barely moved as Royce unwrapped the cord and the opening fell free. He reached inside and pulled out a leather pouch, followed by two more smaller ones.

The silence in the room was profound as he delved inside once again, producing a small sheaf of papers tied with a ribbon, a delicately sewn piece of fine linen edged with lace, a small box, and lastly a large book.

Gwyneth saw the crucifix on the cover and knew it to be a Bible.

“That’s what weighed so much,” he said, dusting it gently. “A miracle it didn’t tear through the bag itself, given the time it must have been in there.”

The others pulled their chairs close as Jeremy brought over a side table. “Put that stuff up here so that we can see what’s in those packets.”

Carefully, Royce did