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

“But there is a point here,” Gabriel continued, ignoring Harry. “It seems that the land will always be in a somewhat precarious position until the Mortmain business is either confirmed or dissolved.” He pursed his lips in thought. “So we must ask ourselves something. If we were documents pertaining to something as crucially important, where would we be?”

“Clearly not in London, or Gylbart would have uncovered them already. I’ll wager he put many guineas in the hands of clerks to try to find anything to do with the matter.” Evan tossed his opinion out, and nodding as he received approving looks.

“Good point.” Harry shot a forefinger at him. “So if not there, then where? The County seat? They must have some records…”

“Another option, but I wouldn’t want to wager on that. County seats tend to vary in location. And a new monarch would certainly make changes—even from one family to another. Our Lord Lieutenant might not have had that title fifty years ago, and who knows who was in charge a hundred years ago, let alone when the Wolfbridge Mortmain was established.”

“Perhaps some liturgical records,” volunteered Gwyneth. “We are talking about a religious-linked document. Mortmains were created to preserve church lands. Hence the ease with which our founding Bishop was able to have his land protected by one.” She pursed her lips. “But where that might be recorded? I have no idea.”

“So where does that leave us?” Jeremy’s mouth turned down. “It doesn’t sound as if there could be anywhere else to look.”

The ensuing silence was broken only by Darcy, snoring gently by the fire.

Until Gwyneth took a breath. “There is one place. A logical place.” She looked around the table. “If we had a document vital to our survival, to the very existence of Wolfbridge, where would we put it?”

“In our strongbox.” Gabriel stared at her. “The one behind the third portrait on the left after the middle door in the ballroom.”

“Exactly.” She smiled. “That’s it, exactly.”

“Er…I don’t believe we have the Mortmain papers in our strongbox, dear love.” Jeremy raised an eyebrow at her.

“No, we don’t. But they might be in the Fivetrees strongbox…”

This time even Darcy stopped snoring as the implications of that statement penetrated the minds of everyone at the table.

“Does Fivetrees have one?” Evan blinked.

“I should think so. Every large home has some sort of a strongbox. Especially if there is a lot of jewellery in the family.” She blinked back.

“Not necessarily, but it’s certainly worth looking into…” Jeremy stared at the table, obviously lost in thought.

“I agree.” Gabriel turned to Gwyneth. “We should go and see if we could fine one.”

“Not tonight, lad,” chuckled Harry.

Gabriel snorted. “I didn’t mean now. But perhaps tomorrow, if the weather holds.” He turned to Gwyneth. “What do you think, love? Are you up to a trip to Fivetrees? It will give you a chance to make sure the property is secure, and while we’re there, we can perhaps investigate a little and look for a safe?”

Gwyneth thought about it. Royce wasn’t there to say yea or nay, so it was pretty much up to her, and she could see no obvious drawback.

“All right. Yes. I think we should. Let’s go tomorrow.” She paused. “And if we find nothing, we can always send a note to Lady Judith Withersby. Perhaps she’ll recall mention of one when she lived here.”

Gabriel cheered. “I’m excited. It will be an adventure. Perhaps I should bring a hammer so that we can tap on the panelling. I’ve heard that behind old panels is an excellent place to hide things…” He grinned at them all, making them laugh.

“Just because we were lucky once, lad, doesn’t mean we’ll be lucky twice…” Harry leaned back from the table. “So don’t get your hopes too high.” He sighed and pushed his empty plate aside. “I’ll come too, but I’d better stay away from the pies or I won’t fit through Fivetrees’ front door.”

“We should all go.” Jeremy stood. “The Wolfbridge contingent invades Fivetrees.” He raised his hand and called for a hip-hip-hurrah.

Gwyneth rolled her eyes and laughed.

Chapter Thirty-One

It was actually two days before Harry, Gabriel and Gwyneth tucked themselves into the gig and set off for Fivetrees. The weather had turned unpleasant enough to keep them by the fireside, but as soon as it cleared, they were on their way.

Both Jeremy and Evan declared themselves content to stay behind since they’d really had their fill of the place, and Gwyneth could well understand their sentiments. What had seemed like a good idea over a wonderful meal now engendered some mixed emotions.

Fivetrees wasn’t even her property, but it felt like a millstone around her neck. The proximity to Wolfbridge, the possibility of it actually being part of the Wolfbridge history, and the association with the Fairhurst family—all rendered it far from the usual neighbour.

She tried not to fidget as her thoughts plagued her, but Gabriel, upon whose knees she sat, sensed her discomfort.

“We’ll be there soon,” he soothed, hugging her and putting as much of his cloak around her as he could.

She glanced down at him with a chuckle. “Thank you, Papa.”

“You seem uncomfortable,” he answered, a worried look on his face.

“I’m not, really. Just not sure we’re doing the right thing today.” She looked ahead to where the topmost chimneys were already starting to appear. “I cannot warm to the place. It seems…lost.”

“A good description,” nodded Harry, his hands firm on the reins as he guided them over ruts and mud. “Many of the older houses have a certain feel to them. They’ve seen so much, it is as if the lives lived within have left impressions on the walls.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him. “That, Harry, is quite fanciful for someone as practical as you…”

“Probably.