Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“Certainly, my lord,” said Hastings, leading the way. “The grooms sleep above the stables, your lordship. But I and my wife, who is the cook in the house, have a two-room cottage attached to the back. You’ll wish to check those quarters?”
“Yes, Hastings, thank you for your cooperation,” said Deo.
“Shocking business, my lord,” replied Hastings. “You’re welcome to look all you like. The missus and I have nothing to hide, and if any of my men are responsible, I’ll tan their hides this side of Sunday for betraying the duke. Served this family all my life, I have. Never heard of such a thing!”
Deo nodded, feeling acutely uncomfortable.
“Aye, it’s a shocking thing,” corroborated Smiggens. “There has never been anything like this before. My father was born on this estate, my lord. The Laynes are the kindest and most generous family in all of England. I would die for them.” He shook his head, stumping along beside them.
A thorough search of the stables and grooms’ accommodations showed up nothing, and they moved onto Smiggens’s shed and the cottage attached that housed himself and his grandsons.
The shed was padlocked, but Smiggens hurried to unlock it for Deo to enter and search. Again, there was nothing that you wouldn’t expect to see in a garden shed. Smiggens then led them to his cottage.
“You’ll forgive us if it’s not as tidy as it should be, your lord and ladyship,” he said apologetically, holding the door open for them to pass within. “Three males in a house tend not to be as house-proud as a woman would be.”
The first room, which was both kitchen and sitting room, was sparsely furnished.
A pantry in the corner offered the only storage that Deo could see.
He checked that and then went through to the bedroom where three cots each with a chest at its base took up the entirety of the room.
He searched the chests and the mattresses.
And returned to the main room where Em stood by a chest he hadn’t noticed before.
“What is in there?” asked Deo.
“Linens, my lord. You’re welcome to look,” said Smiggens.
Deo knelt and began lifting out the folded linen. Something heavy slipped from the folds and fell with a ding to the stone floor.
Em gasped, and he looked down at the belt buckle by his knee. He dropped the linen back into the chest and picked it up.
“What’s that?” asked Smiggens, peering at it.
“One of the missing items,” said Deo, watching him closely. They had been careful not to mention what exactly had been stolen.
Smiggens went white as his shirt. He looked at Deo with horror in his eyes.
“No! I’ve never seen that before. I didn’t—I wouldn’t.
God in heaven, not one of my boys—” He swallowed, visibly sweating.
“My lord, I don’t know how that got there, but I swear on my Esmie’s grave I didn’t take it.
I never go in the house, my lord, unless I’m summoned like today. You have to believe me!”
Hastings, who had remained outside while they searched the cottage, presumably hearing sounds of distress, pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“What’s happening?” he asked, taking in the tableau as Deo rose to his feet slowly.
He wanted to believe Smiggens, he really did, but the evidence was damning. He passed the buckle to Em who cradled it in her hands.
“We found something,” said Deo, his eyes still on Smiggens, who was visibly trembling. Tears ran down the man’s face, but he said nothing further as Deo turned to the other man. “We need to search again, thoroughly.”
Hastings, who had gone white with shock when he realized what was happening, nodded. He flung a look of disbelief at Smiggens. The two men must have known each other all their lives. This would be almost as great a shock to Hastings as it was to Smiggens.
He and Deo turned the cottage upside down, but found nothing else. Throughout it all, Smiggens stood silently weeping.
Deo and Hastings escorted the stricken man back to the ballroom where they found everyone else waiting.
The duke took one look at Smiggens’s face and said, “Good God, what—”
Em held out the buckle mutely.
“Pendrell, what happened here?” he asked, his eyes on Smiggens.
“We found the buckle in a chest in Smiggens’s cottage,” said Deo.
Smiggens dropped to his knees before the duke. “I didn’t—I swear I didn’t!”
“Grandad!” His grandsons rushed forward.
“Grandad, what’s wrong?” asked the eldest.
“Hush, lads,” he said, wiping his face. “Let the duke speak.”
“What explanation have you for this, Smiggens?” asked the duke.
“None, Your Grace. I don’t know how it got there, but I didn’t put it there, I swear on my Esmie’s soul I didn’t, I wouldn’t, and the lads wouldn’t either. Boys, you haven’t seen this before, have you?”
The lads shook their heads.
“Your Grace,” Annis stepped forward. “Whatever the explanation for this, I’d swear black and blue Smiggens isn’t responsible.” She put a hand on the older man’s shoulder as she spoke and squeezed.
Smiggens gave her a grateful look over his shoulder and murmured. “Thank you, lass.”
Before the duke could respond to this, there was a great clanging of the doorbell.
Creighton looked to the duke, “Your Grace?”
The duke sighed and rubbed his face. “You’d better answer that, Creighton, but the duchess and I are not at home to visitors.” He turned to the rest of the servants and said, “You may return to your posts, and thank you for your patience.”
The servants began to file out of the room, many of them casting curious or pitying looks at Smiggens, who had risen to his feet after a gesture from the duke and stood with an arm round each of his lads.
When they had cleared the room, the duke opened his mouth to say something and was cut off by strident tones filtering up from the ground floor.
“Stand aside, you clodpole!”