“Would your uncle have known about the property passing to your mother?” Max interjected.
“I believe so. Although, Uncle Silas rarely visited. He and my father did not exactly see eye-to-eye on things. I heard them arguing once about money. Uncle Silas left in a huff. Father said he would not give him more. Father briefly mentioned a recent letter from Uncle Silas requesting money that last day.” Her voice trailed off.
“Did you find the papers?”
“I did.” She stopped there. “I located Father’s secret box, but I left it where he had left it, hidden from view. However, the key to it is again missing. Father had lost it, then found it that morning when we were talking. But I left the room before Father left with Mother. I had planned to search for it.”
“I am familiar with Nash Slade. He can be dangerous. I am curious about why he left you alone when he saw you before leaving your house that night.” Mr. Nizal held her gaze. “Are you aware of rumors that connect Nash Slade to your uncle as an illegitimate son?”
A hush fell over the room.
“I was not.” Maggie barely whispered.
“But the former Viscount Winters and your mother knew of this, my dear.” His mother spoke up. “According to what your mother told me, your father made sure that Slade’s mother had financial support to raise and educate the boy. While he could not acknowledge him as his nephew publicly, your father had been supportive.”
“Well, that only adds to the mystery of his presence. It does not change the fact that he is dangerous and has frequently worked for your uncle. And I understand we have seen him here. Please be advised that you could be in danger. Stay inside the safety of this house.” He closed his book, signaling that he had taken enough notes. “Lady Tipton, with your permission, I would like to visit your home. I need to see the interior.”
Chapter 8
The dowager countess and the doctor had both asked Max to give Maggie at least two more days of rest before undertaking an expedition to her parents’ home. Besides the harsh cold, the emotional trauma suffered concerned them. In that time, a light snow had added to the one that had already fallen, keeping the ground lush and powdery white. With the sun shining behind light clouds, the weather was crisp and cold as the small party of four left Hambright Manor.
Maggie quelled the emotion rising within her as she mentally parsed through the details of her last meeting with her father. It oddly combined the emotions that assailed her—fear mixed with a sense of longing and impatience. She wanted answers, and it looked like she could not leave Max’s home soon.
She was always being pampered and cared for, something that she had not known since losing her parents. The last three years had been nothing but heartache, pain, and fear. She reveled in the fresh air and the attention, but still feared she might bring trouble to Max and his mother. Yet they squashed the thought every time she broached it. She also found herself more and more drawn to Max, recalling little things like his penchant for making her smile whenever they were together. It did not matter whether they were getting an ice or riding. They enjoyed each other’s company. She had shelved a lot of those memories, but his constant nearness unleashed them little by little.
“Lady Tipton, do you agree?”
“Yes? Oh. I am sorry. You caught me woolgathering.” A heated blush colored her face. The blasted man never stops asking questions. She turned her attention to Mr. Nizal. “I heard the last part, kind sir. Would you mind repeating your question?”
They had hoisted the short round man onto the seat across from her. His legs dangled off the seat, and his feet barely touched the floor of the carriage. Maggie fought back a giggle at the sight. Mr. Nizal regarded her and put down his notebook. His look was always one of scrutiny. “Your ladyship, do you think we should pull to the front or the back of the house? I ask because it is likely that people watch. This snow”—he waved his hands nonchalantly at the window next to him—“makes it easy to see tracks. That could be good or bad. Yes, let me think about that.”
“Was there a question in there?” Max’s voice had a lighthearted lilt to it.
Maggie noticed Max was trying to smother a smile, and she grinned. “If I recall, there is a portico at the back. The small drive the servants used swings off the main drive out front and moves to the back of the house. The tracks would be noticeable, but only to someone on the property. Otherwise, we can visit without notice from others on the road.”
“Yes, that will do nicely. I would like to visit as much of the house and stable area as possible. Your parents died from a carriage accident. If something nefarious happened, it most likely would have started in their own stables.” He scribbled fiercely for a moment and tucked the nub and pad in his faded waistcoat pocket.
“Er…Maggie, dear. There is something I wanted to discuss with you. I had not mentioned it before as I had not imagined this trip.” The countess turned to Maggie and patted her arm gently. “But have you heard…um…did you see…?” Lady Worsley was struggling with her thoughts, but Maggie had a good idea what the countess was asking.
“Are you asking if I have seen the rumored ghost?”
