Bewitching The Recluse [BOOK 2 of Price Family Saga]

49. Chapter (Unforeseen Revelation)

When Lafferty reached for the tome of Greek myths intended for Teddy, he espied a stack of papers upon the table adjacent to the bookshelves. Presently situated in the study, these papers bore the mark of his endeavours – requisitions for sundry provisions for the household, primarily victuals, yet interspersed among them were mandates for diverse repairs within the domicile.

A sense of surprise enveloped him, for these documents were not methodically arranged amidst their brethren. Yet, he recalled the exigency of his hasty departure in the wake of the conflagration in Marlborough months prior, rendering him bereft of adequate time for such organisation. Now, afforded with an excess of leisure, he undertook the task of fulfilling his antecedent purpose.

He took them into his possession, and as he arranged the papers within the securely locked cabinet, a furrowed brow bespoke his contemplation. Upon revisiting the orders, he discerned familiar names – those of several intermediaries known to supply to Marlborough. It might not have been an anomaly if...

A sudden inspiration seized Lafferty, prompting him to hastily peruse orders from the epoch of the conflagration years past – thereupon, the same names recurred. However, delving further into history, certain names vanished.

One name, however, endured – preserved in the accounts of the very first conflagration that befell Marlborough when the late Marquess Robert St. Arcey still tread the earthly realm. Presumably, these records were initially harboured directly upon the estate but were inevitably relocated hither, perhaps out of an apprehension of fire.

However, it prompted the steward to revisit the attic, given that, according to intelligence gleaned from the late Corinne, antiquated family records found sanctuary there to prevent encumbrance elsewhere in the manor. Though a protracted endeavour, Lafferty, upon cross-referencing the documents, gleaned a faint tableau of clandestine machinations unfolding behind the veneer of normalcy, leaving him with more inquiries than resolutions.

Akin to a bloodsucker attached to the source of its sustenance, pondered Lafferty, and then he felt a new concern – What if the loan that the young Marquess received is truly backed by funds from this very person? Initially, this notion seemed absurd, but the more he contemplated it in light of the information he possessed, it began to make sense. Without dallying any further, he seated himself at the writing desk to promptly compose a letter, while a few parchments slipped off the table and descended to the floor. The name revealed was unmistakable, scripted in black ink on crisp white paper:

P. L. Winthrop

°°°

A few days later after Lafferty's revelation, Travis and Isabella found themselves in a state of bewilderment and tension in the hall – outside, the dawn was breaking, and there was no trace of Teddy.

"Why on earth did we erect a fence, deploy guard dogs, and station the sentinels? So that some rogue could filch a child right under our very noses?" exclaimed the Marquess in fiery indignation.

"I had foreseen this eventuality," uttered Lady Kendall with an icy tone. The venerable lady occupied a chair she had summoned for and pierced him with the stern gaze of her emerald eyes. "You can scarcely safeguard yourself, let alone a child, St. Arcey."

Travis recoiled, casting a stern look in her direction. "So, you're not imputing the abductor with a criminal offence but rather accusing me, Lady Kendall? What's next – will you assert that I've engaged some rascal to systematically subvert our lives?"

"Cease, both of you!" interjected Isabella, preempting Lady Kendall, who was on the verge of delivering one of her incisive retorts. "This mutual recrimination shall avail us nought in the quest to locate Teddy."